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Tearing off her gown and freeing her breasts, I can’t help but have a taste.
My mouth closes over her nipple and I bite down hard. She cries out and I hear the chains clink as she moves.
“Please, let me go. Please no one has to know, please,” she cries.
“Enough,” I bark.
“W-what are you g-going to d-do?” she stutters.
I walk around her, and my hands trail over her skin as I do.
“I’m going to enjoy leaving you red, kitten.” I stand behind her and admire her plush little ass. As she hangs her head down, I hear a sob break free.
Going to the drawer, I remove the whip, holding it in the palm of my hand before smacking it gently over my skin as I walk back. I see Savannah tip her head up to look at me as I walk back toward her.
“Every day, I’m going to give you twenty lashes. This is your punishment for what your father did to me.”
“Please.” she begs, looking over her shoulder at me and I see fear deep in her eyes.
“Begging will get you nowhere, kitten. Pain is suffering, princess, something you will learn.”
The first time the whip connects with her back she cries out in pain. Savannah’s cries are the only sound as the whip connects with her skin each time. By the time I’ve done ten, her legs have gone from under her, and her back is cut up and bleeding. She’s sobbing and shaking as her body gives out from the pain.
“Please,” she whimpers, trying to stand, but her legs give out from under her.
“You're doing so well, my little sinner.” I caress her hip with my thumb and feel the jolt of her twitch as I do.
I hear her sniff and swallow as I place a kiss on her shoulder.
She’s doing so well.
“Ten more and we’re done.” She lifts her head, holding it high as I step back to finish it.
By the time I hit twenty, I’m panting and sweating.
Savannah has gone limp and passed out to the pain, her back is torn to shreds from the whip. A reminder of the pain I feel. I drop the whip to the floor and come up behind her. I place my arm around her waist and lift her slightly while I free her hands.
She moans as I carry her to the bed. Her skin is hot and clammy and she’s in and out of consciousness. She’s rambling as I place her on the bed.
I go and get a cloth to clean her back. As I'm cleaning her up, I feel her tense, so I know she’s woken up fully.
“You’re a monster,” she whimpers between sobs.
“I told you I was.” I never denied being one. She was the one who made me out to be something I wasn’t.
“Is this what you like?” Her head falls over her shoulder. I see her face is patchy and red from her tears. She looks at me, but I keep my eyes on her back.
“You’re my?—”
“Revenge. I get it.” She sounds different, like her voice is just playing along.
“Maybe I’d rather you kill me,” she tells me as she leans her head on her arm.
“Maybe I like making you my sex slave, kitten. Ever think of that?”
She looks over her shoulder at me again and I see her brow form a V. She doesn’t take her eyes off mine when she says, “Well just fuck it out of me then, maybe I wouldn’t hate you as much.”
I chuckle.
