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Helga couldn't sleep.

Not because she was going to bed early, even for her age. Well, not only because of that. The pig had tried to drift into dreamland. She closed her eyes and breathed softly, but the sandman didn't come. So she found herself staring up at the ceiling of the cabin's second bedroom.

"What the fuck?" She said aloud to an empty room. The pig wasn't sure who this was aimed at. It could have been targeted toward the mental image of her two girls, whom she knew were sleeping well in the basement on account of the baby monitor. Occasionally the metal of the cage rattled, but Helga knew Amy moved in her sleep. In hindsight, she shouldn't have had them both bound together.

That oversight had her thinking the phrase was for her. "What the fuck?" She said again and rested the back of her hand against her forehead. This wasn't the pig's first rodeo in being harsh in play. But she'd never been so cruel to make anyone...no, she took that back. There was that one possum in Dallas who enjoyed domestic servitude and a heavy hand. She spent a week treating her like a slave while her husband was on a business trip. Hell, the gang joined in over the final few days.

She shivered at the memory, both with excitement and terror. The pig hated to admit how much she enjoyed making that possum crawl around in her own home. She felt like she could have gotten away with anything. Shit, she almost tried leaving the woman tied up for hours in her own closet.

But this was different. Amy and Rebecca weren't just some ladies she'd picked up for a night of fun or a week of experimentation while their husbands were gone. They were her play partners. Her girlfriends. These were people she cared for and protected under her roof.

And they were hurting because of her.

Of course, neither had said their safewords. Helga had made it clear on day one that if they ignored using their safewords when play got too hard, they would be done relationship-wise. But that was back when she barely knew Amy. When the vole was just some random girl she met at a munch, looking to experiment with her kinky side. Now? Well, Helga didn't want to end their relationship. But a long talk would be needed if they were ignoring their limits.

Were they though? Helga rose up and hung her head. Both girls had surprised her in the past, so maybe they weren't nearing their safewords. Maybe she was nearing hers.

That's why she had them, isn't it? Helga stared out the window and admired the moonlit lake on the horizon. Despite her big talk about it, the pig had never given herself a safeword. She never had one as a sub, but that was a toxic relationship. A dom safeword was rare, unheard of unless one went digging for it.

She poured herself a glass of water in the kitchen while she thought about it. A bowl of fruit was laid out against the counter. Her gaze first fell on the banana, and she forced a tired smile at it. What would happen if she gave up now? Just said the six-letter word and spend the rest of the weekend doing fuck-all.

They'd be crushed. Amy had talked about doing a trip like this for ages, and adding Rebecca's enthusiasm to the mix only strengthened her resolve. If Helga gave in now, would they just see her as this old woman who couldn't keep up? Sure she had back problems, and she didn't like staying up past midnight, but when was that a problem?

"It's not that," She said to herself. Helga just wanted excuses. Both to say her safeword, and to keep going. Was it a matter of pride, or something else dear to her heart? The pig couldn't tell, or she just didn't want to dig into it.

She took a moment to think over her two girls specifically. Rebecca hadn't ushered a complaint in their play, yet. If Helga were being honest with herself, and she was, she didn't expect the pitbull to be bothered by the labor. That girl was used to physical work, and she liked following orders. If anything, it was probably more relaxing than humiliating. Though her little admission of guilt was new. She wasn't sure if Rebecca calling Amy lazy was just part of her headspace, or how she really felt.

Stress had a funny way of exposing feelings.

But Amy...oh Amy. Helga saw the frustration in her eyes. The vole loved to talk. And Helga loved reprimanding her little attention whore with a playful smack in their sessions. But now, with every mistake falling to the other girl, Amy had lost her ability to be a brat. Neither wanted the other to suffer for their own mistakes. Course, Rebecca's confession might just change that.

"Fuck..." Did Helga just cause a rift in the relationship between those two? She shook her head and told herself that they were adults. Young adults, but adults nonetheless. They could talk it out and there would be plenty of talking when it was all said and done.

Guzzling down her water, Helga headed back to her bedroom and fell against the bed. She pulled the baby monitor in closer, listening to the grunts of her girls in the cage below. Heavy lids slipped over her eyes, and she drifted back to sleep.

Then she woke up and repeated the same thoughts an hour later. Ad nauseam until the alarm blared.