" .. what? "
" no? "
“Yeah, I fucking hate it.”
"Phew, baby, look forward to it."
He came carrying a very thick whip.
"Baby, 10. Number three."
He hit my back with a thick whip.
"Huh, one.. t, two.. "
As it turned out, it was after my teenage years. My back was soaked in blood. He stripped me of my clothes, applied some medicine, and put new ones on me.
“Well, can I call you master now?”
He wiped his chapped lips with his index finger and looked at me with a grin.
“..j, master.”
He smiled faintly, perhaps because it was the answer he had been looking for.
"Would you like to play with me now?"
"How are you playing..?"
“Just a moment…”