When the Dark Wins

“No,” she whispered between harsh breaths, her jaw muscles twitching as she pressed her teeth together again.

Another crack of the whip, harder, and she gasped before she screamed. This line was going to be darker, a lovely reddish-purple. It probably hurt, a lot, but he had never been whipped so he didn’t know exactly what it felt like.

“FUCK YOU!” the girl screamed, voice breaking at the end of the expletive as she dissolved into whines, rattling the chains with her twists and tugs. It was a pretty sight from the side. Round breasts brushing the concrete, flat stomach twisting above wiggling hips.

The customers are absolutely enjoying this.

Walking over to the table he set the whip down and picked up the bar gag. She was still breathing harshly when he approached, refusing to look at him as she leaned her forehead against the wall. There was no doubt in his mind that it was her exhaustion, and not some last minute attempt at obedience that kept her eyes averted.

She was disobedient to the core, but he had something else after the whipping to break her a little further.

“Open your mouth.” That drew her attention, head twisting to look over her shoulder at him, and he lifted the gag so she could see it. Brown eyes went wide, and her jaw tightened.

Anthony was somewhat fascinated by her. Normally, there was so much pleading and begging, especially when he used the whip — a boorish, yet painful implement if there ever was one — but she was still cursing. Still brazenly refusing to submit, and nowhere near breaking.

Weaving his fingers into her hair he ripped her head back, the natural gasp of breath into her lungs opening her jaw, and he shoved the leather bit between her teeth before she could correct it. It only took a moment to wind the leather behind her head, under the ponytail he had roughly pulled together to keep it off her back.

/> She sputtered curses around it, still loud, but less intelligible.

Much better.

“I did tell you what would happen if you cursed at me again, remember, slut?” He stroked her hair, smiling when she pulled away from him. “Ready for the rest of your whipping?”

A garbled stream came from her, and he could almost pick out the obscenities as he returned to the whip. The leather was still warm from his hand, a comfortable hold.

“If you would like to answer my questions from this morning, or address me properly, simply snap your fingers. Otherwise, we will finish this part of your punishment.” Anthony watched as the muscles in her back twitched, her legs bending and straightening. Preparing for the pain.

It wouldn’t help her, of course, but he allowed her the moment anyway.

Sometimes, he was too generous.

Rearing his arm back he snapped the whip across her shoulders, reveling in the scream as his cock twitched. Still sated from before he’d chained her up, but he enjoyed it anyway. Another lash, harder, and her back bowed before she pressed her body into the concrete.

Darker.

That line was already a deep purple, and he listened to her sob, the slurping sounds around the gag as she tried to avoid drooling.

In a moment none of that would matter to her.

The whip arced through the air so fast his eyes couldn’t track it, trusting his skill to land it where he wanted, and over and over it did. Practice makes perfect, or so they say, and though he’d prefer the marks to be more evenly spaced, they were still grouped carefully across the top of her back.

Eyes roving to her ass and thighs he admired the clean expanse of flesh, the belt marks having faded from his brother’s interlude with her, and he smiled. Shifting his feet, he angled lower and the whip cracked at a diagonal across her ass.

A new scream, guttural sobbing. She hadn’t expected him to strike somewhere new.

Anthony paused a moment to enjoy her despair, the hiss of her breaths around the gag, the whimpers, the occasional sucking in as she fought to swallow the saliva he knew was pooling in her mouth. He could have put her in a ball gag, but that was for shorter durations than he planned to have her in this one.

Tonight, he would torture her in new ways.

But first, the whipping. Two more lashes across her ass, dark ones that drew out the most desperate screams of pain, and then he added another across her shoulders. The girl bucked, crying, and he saw the first string of drool spill from her lips. It glinted in the light as it spilled onto her breasts, and she whined, sputtering as she gave in and let more flow.

How many emails had he received requesting a whipping?

Too many to count at the moment, but he looked forward to reviewing the live cam views on this session. It had lasted long enough that some of the customers would have reached out to others they knew, encouraged them to access it.

Which meant she needed to perform.

“Want to snap your fingers, slave?” He taunted, moving forward to run his hand across the welts on her ass, squeezing hard to turn her soft whimpering into another pain-filled scream. Leaning closer he spoke almost directly into her ear, “If you do it, I might even stop. Isn’t that what you want?”