His voice wavered and the sweat glistened over his body in the dull candlelight. He was leaned over a whipping bench with his backside exposed, the welts from previous strikes could be seen perfectly.
“Please Mistress, no more!”
Ignoring his pleas, I pulled the cane back swiftly for another strike.
I love the whooshing sound my smoked dragon cane (Sasha) makes as it cuts through the air.
He reeled, slightly arching his back as I held the cane in place where it had landed. It was another good impact.
“Please Mistress, I will do anything! Just no more, I beg you.” he said through slightly gritted teeth.
“Anything?” I questioned while pausing briefly. “And what could you possibly do to make me stop?”
I savoured the silence that followed and grinned.
He had taken 6 strokes and was due for a short break. I was relishing the scent of fear oozing from his every pore.
I decided to take the opportunity to run my freshly sharpened claws over his welts before asking again.
“What could you possibly do? name a single thing that could still my hand.”
He grunted a little and jerked with the sensitivity of his fresh wounds.
“Nothing, Mistress.”
I stepped back to arms length and placed the tip of my cane gently over his rump in preparation for another aimed strike.
“Absolutely nothing.” I said as I pulled the cane back quickly and another whoosh cut through the air.