| ONE YEAR LATER PART 5 _______________________________________________________________________________________ An hour later I stood blindfolded in a strange living room listening to the two men discussing what had been arranged. Then hood man said goodbye and I heard the door close behind him. I felt the new man come up behind me and untie the blindfold. The room was dim so my eyes adjusted quickly. I turned to find this man also wearing a hood – there must have been a sale going on at Hoods R Us. “So what do I call you?” I asked. “Master.” I gave a small laugh. “I don’t think so.” “Oh but I do,” he said trying to be dominate. I held up my hand to him. “I’m not here for a little game of Master and Slave.” “Then what are you here for?” “It’s personal so I’d rather not discuss it, but simply put I’m here because your friend wasn’t willing to do what I asked.” “Yes, he said you wanted it hard enough to draw blood.” I nodded my head in agreement and he motioned for me to follow him. We went down into the basement, which had been converted into a dungeon of sorts. One wall was covered in instruments of punishment and torture – a grander scale of what was in Nathaniel’s bedroom. I had to swallow hard to get past that thought. “Take your pick,” he said grabbing onto a hook hanging from the ceiling. I ran my hand over a row of handcuffs and manacles. The last set lightly burned my skin as I touched it – silver. I moved on to the whips. There were several with metal ends. The last one in that row was also silver. He’d obviously worked on lycanthropes before. I finally settled on a standard whip like what the guy in the club had been using but I chose the silver handcuffs. I tossed both items to the guy, stripped down to just my panties, and then held out my wrists to him. “Two things,” I said as he snapped the cuffs on, the silver already making my skin uncomfortable. “No sex and if you have to touch me keep it to the arms, legs, and back.” With that I raised my arms over my head and he slid a chain loop over the hook he had been holding onto. When I was firmly secured he slid a new blindfold over my eyes and backed up. “What’s your safe word?” he asked. “There is no safe word,” I said and the whip cracked loudly across my back. “Ha! Honey, when I’m finished with you you’ll wish you had a safe word.” “Good” and the whip came down harder. It hurt and I concentrated on the pain. I was very rarely on this end of the whip and definitely not this extreme. Nathaniel would only get off one or two hits before he begged to change places or I molested him. Sometime later he finally stopped. I heard him take a new whip from the wall and then I sensed him very near me. He added a chain to the hook in the ceiling that allowed me some movement. He leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “Thought of that safe word yet?” “No.” “Mmmm. You know,” he said running his hand up my arm towards my wrists. “This was an interesting choice of restraints. Why these?” I shrugged the best I could. “Just felt right I guess.” “I’m sure it did. I wasn’t completely sure what you were then, but you’ve healed a majority of the damage already. What kind are you?” “Leopard.” “Hmm, that’s a new one for me. But healing the damage takes all of the fun out of it. I think it’s time for something new.” He said dragging the silver tipped cat o’ nine tails up my back. The silver burned over the wounds that were still open. I felt him back up and then heard the whir as the silver metal ends sliced through the air. The sharp sting of the silver across my back had been what I was looking for. The second hit was harder. He had been trying to make me cry out all evening but nothing had been bad enough so far to be worse than the pain I felt inside. The hits started coming harder and in rapid succession and I finally did cry out. I couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer. I let everything I had been feeling inside come out in one long scream. He continued the flogging, keeping it at a steady pace and I let the tears flow. I cried for all the things I should have done but didn’t. I cried for everything I had lost. I cried because I should have told him to stop but didn’t. I could feel the blood running down my back, the silver ends making an awful noise against my back. After a while I started to drift in and out of consciousness. I would wake up, not sure how much time had passed, and he would start again. The pain was unbearable but still I let it go on. I hadn’t punished myself enough, I still felt terrible. The next time I woke I was gagged. This was not a good sign. I heard a small noise and then smelled the acrid scent of a lit match. Definitely not a good sign. I began to struggle, moaning against the cloth in my mouth. “Now’s not the time for protest, kitty. We’re going to make this a permanent reminder,” he said and took one last crack at my back. I cried out for the pain that time. I could feel the heat near my back when someone screamed, “NOOO!” and something or someone slammed into my punisher and they in turn slammed into my back making every nerve ending scream in agony. I passed out from the pain. Some time later, I barely came around to feel myself being lifted and carefully thrown over a masculine shoulder. My whole world was foggy and my last thought before I let the darkness claim me was vanilla. _______________________________________________________________________________________ PART 6 INDEX |