Ace Bandages Binding Novels & Stories

"You're acting like it! Checking on me constantly, monitoring my temperature, changing bandages that don't need changing." "The bandages need changing," Caius interrupted. "No they don't!" "They need changing every twelve hours to prevent." "I don't care what they prevent! I'm taking them off!" I grabbed the bandage on my shoulder and started unwrapping it. All three of them moved at once. Zane grabbed my hand. "Don't touch it." Caius moved to block me. "The wound needs to stay covered." Alerion used his Alpha voice. "Lysander. Stop."

But from just feeling the length and width I could image I probably needed staples to close it shut. After getting out of the shower I wrapped and cleaned my head the best I could with what I could find in the first aid kit, which wasn't much. Just a few bandaids and luckily three butterfly strips that I tried to use to pull it close. I took the ace wrap that I had found in the first aid kit with half the roll of toilet paper and placed it over the gash wrapping the ace wrap tightly around my head in hopes it would work to help stop the bleeding and keep it form getting infected.

It’s suffocating. My skin heats under it, tension coiling tighter with every passing second. I focus harder, faster—hands moving with more urgency than necessary. Finish it. Just finish it. The last stitch goes in clean. I exhale, low and steady, like I’ve been holding my breath the entire time. Almost done. I grab the bandage, wrap it quickly, efficiently—no wasted motion—and press it into place. “There.” I step back, pulling off my gloves. “All done. You can go.”

"The more you strain this, the longer it takes to heal. And the Alpha made it very clear what happens if I send you back in worse condition than..." "I know what he made clear." Natasha's voice came out sharper than she intended. She exhaled slowly, forcing her shoulders to relax. "Just wrap it." Maren did. Double-layered. Tight enough that Natasha felt her ribs compress with each breath. The binding locked her arm against her torso like a splint. Secure. Immovable. A cage made of cloth and Maren's quiet competence. When the medic finally tied off the last strip, Natasha was already moving.

He doesn’t move once as we work, and it feels like it takes hours. Eventually we get him mostly patched up, then start applying the adhesive dressings. We cover the areas we can’t suture first, then the rest, but we run out before we’re done. Next, we apply the compression bandages, trying to hold it all together and give him some relief.

I wrap the bandage firmly around his torso, securing it tightly before tying it off. I step back, studying my work. “How did you learn all that?” he asks, stepping down from the stool.

I saw this swift recovery as a perfect opportunity not to hide the thick linen bandages that I usually had to use to bind and flatten my breasts with. I unrolled the blood-spotted cloth and threw the bindings into the wastebasket, knowing that if Ezekiel happened to see them, he would simply assume they were discarded dressings from my shoulder wound. It wasn't really a total lie anyway, as I had used half of the wraps to bandage the actual deep structural injuries from my brutal sparring match with Tristan the day before. Still, the fear of leaving any physical evidence of my true gender behind made my pulse race a little faster.

A male voice told me he was going to remove the blindfold and gag and instructed me not to shout or else he was going to put them back and I nodded my head and he took them off I knew better than to shout. The rope was digging into my skin and it was making me feel very uncomfortable but I had to manage. The others had left the room and the guy who removed the gag and bandage was sitting by the door and pressing his phone. I studied the room why he was focused on other things. The room was empty and had thick drapes so it was also dark. The floor was tiled and there was a wardrobe at one corner so it was probably somebody’s house.

Doing something useful with my hands while my mind worked through everything else. "How are you feeling?" Yoana asked. She was not asking about the training. "Complicated," I said honestly. "That tracks." She set a stack of bandaging on the shelf. "The blood work I ran this morning shows the binding has degraded by another twelve percent since yesterday. It is accelerating." She looked at me carefully. "Emily, I need to tell you something. When it fully breaks, it is going to be physical. Not dangerous, but significant. You are going to need someone with you."

"If you want less, you tell us. If you want more, you ask." A small smile touched my mouth. This one felt entirely my own. "Tie me first," I said. "Then, perhaps I will." Faolan's eyes darkened. Asterion removed the second length of silk. They did not bind my injured hands or place pressure against my wrists. Asterion folded the fabric into broad bands and wrapped them around my forearms, above the damaged skin. Faolan secured each end to the headboard, then slipped two fingers beneath every knot to ensure none were too tight.