Shiress stared in disbelief at the long length of leather jutting from the slave Master's grip, her backward step matching the man's forward motion as he strolled through the door, as a sudden bolder of fear settled into her gut. This was no game of survival, no game of escape. Shiress was trapped and she was caught with a madman seeking to sate a sadistic appetite. And there were no heroes
Shock of what was to come stilled the girl, her feet seemingly nailed to the wooden floor beneath her. Even as she watched Zavya being tied and forced to her knees, Shiress watched wide-eyed, disbelieving, frozen. It wasn't until she felt the guard behind her stir that she struggled. A feeble attempt, but as her arms were wrenched skyward and shackled, defiance came alive in her eyes.
Even as her shoulders ached and her muscles burned, the tips of her toes barely able to support her weight, Shiress glared at the Master each time he passed into view as he circled her, her lip curling into a silent snarl as his tongue spewed forth his vile words. To his question, Shiress remained silent, defiant.
Ryker circled again, this time pausing behind Shiress. She cringed as the cold tip of leather touched her bare flesh.
"Ah, I see you have played this game before." he remarked, tracing the fine white lines of lash marks that forming crisscross patterns across Shiress's back. Leaning in close to her ear, his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "Your name, girl"
The feel of the man's breath on her flesh made her stomach churn."Go petch yourself!" she spat, surprising even herself of how steady her voice sounded.
"Petulant, just as Zavya." he replied, coming around to stand in front of Shiress again, jaw clenching and unclenching as his temper wavered. "Tell our guest what happens to petulant females, Slave."
Ryker did not wait for a reply, nor did he want one. Drawing back the flogger, he lashed out, dragging a line of fire across Shiress's right side. Shiress flung her head back in a wordless cry, unable to draw breath as pain ripped the air from her lungs. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes when she finally lowered her face again. Zavya had evidently cried out on her behalf, for now, a bright red welt ran across her jawline, and her Master now hovered above her, chest heaving as his temper finally was spent.
Turning back to Shiress again he demanded her name but this time didn't wait to see if she would give it. Fire erupted along Shiress's left side, the tops of her thighs, her chest, and finally, her back as Ryker lashed out over and over as he circled the dangling female, chunks of long chestnut locks ripping free in the wake of every slash. By the time he stayed his hand, Shiress was screaming her name, tears running rivulets down her cheeks, shoulder's aching as her knees had buckled.
The pain he had inflicted seemed to have sobered the man, bringing his temper under control. Satisfied him in a way Shiress never wanted to witness again. Ryker strolled toward her, his eyes roaming her bare form with a hungry smile curling his lips. "Shiress" he purred, "Such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl" Lifting a hand he squeezed Shiress's breast painfully, then leaned forward as if he would kiss her.
"Don't do this." Shiress cried, her voice quivering "You don't want to this."
Ryker drew back, feigning shock "Don't I?" he said, then adopted a thoughtful expression. "You know, maybe you are right."
Ryker spun and hauled Zavya to her feet. Releasing the knife from his belt he freed one of the Slave's hand, shoving the whip into her fist.
"Strike her! he demanded.
Shiress's eyes flew wide, head shaking in horror. "No!" she said, hearing her friend's likewise begging.
"Strike her now!"
"No dont, please!"
The man moved in beside Shiress leaning close to the girl as not to allow his slave close proximity. With his knife, he drew a long thin line of crimson across Shiress's ribs.
Shiress screamed.
"Strike her, Zavya!" he yelled, voice filled with a manic desire
"Don't do it, Zavya." Shiress's cried.
Another thin line appeared beneath the first, again Shiress screamed.
"Strike her or I will continue to carve her into pulp."
The blade slid across Shiress's flesh again, and now her screams mingled with Ryker's demand as his knife moved.
"Strike her!"
Shock of what was to come stilled the girl, her feet seemingly nailed to the wooden floor beneath her. Even as she watched Zavya being tied and forced to her knees, Shiress watched wide-eyed, disbelieving, frozen. It wasn't until she felt the guard behind her stir that she struggled. A feeble attempt, but as her arms were wrenched skyward and shackled, defiance came alive in her eyes.
Even as her shoulders ached and her muscles burned, the tips of her toes barely able to support her weight, Shiress glared at the Master each time he passed into view as he circled her, her lip curling into a silent snarl as his tongue spewed forth his vile words. To his question, Shiress remained silent, defiant.
Ryker circled again, this time pausing behind Shiress. She cringed as the cold tip of leather touched her bare flesh.
"Ah, I see you have played this game before." he remarked, tracing the fine white lines of lash marks that forming crisscross patterns across Shiress's back. Leaning in close to her ear, his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "Your name, girl"
The feel of the man's breath on her flesh made her stomach churn."Go petch yourself!" she spat, surprising even herself of how steady her voice sounded.
"Petulant, just as Zavya." he replied, coming around to stand in front of Shiress again, jaw clenching and unclenching as his temper wavered. "Tell our guest what happens to petulant females, Slave."
Ryker did not wait for a reply, nor did he want one. Drawing back the flogger, he lashed out, dragging a line of fire across Shiress's right side. Shiress flung her head back in a wordless cry, unable to draw breath as pain ripped the air from her lungs. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes when she finally lowered her face again. Zavya had evidently cried out on her behalf, for now, a bright red welt ran across her jawline, and her Master now hovered above her, chest heaving as his temper finally was spent.
Turning back to Shiress again he demanded her name but this time didn't wait to see if she would give it. Fire erupted along Shiress's left side, the tops of her thighs, her chest, and finally, her back as Ryker lashed out over and over as he circled the dangling female, chunks of long chestnut locks ripping free in the wake of every slash. By the time he stayed his hand, Shiress was screaming her name, tears running rivulets down her cheeks, shoulder's aching as her knees had buckled.
The pain he had inflicted seemed to have sobered the man, bringing his temper under control. Satisfied him in a way Shiress never wanted to witness again. Ryker strolled toward her, his eyes roaming her bare form with a hungry smile curling his lips. "Shiress" he purred, "Such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl" Lifting a hand he squeezed Shiress's breast painfully, then leaned forward as if he would kiss her.
"Don't do this." Shiress cried, her voice quivering "You don't want to this."
Ryker drew back, feigning shock "Don't I?" he said, then adopted a thoughtful expression. "You know, maybe you are right."
Ryker spun and hauled Zavya to her feet. Releasing the knife from his belt he freed one of the Slave's hand, shoving the whip into her fist.
"Strike her! he demanded.
Shiress's eyes flew wide, head shaking in horror. "No!" she said, hearing her friend's likewise begging.
"Strike her now!"
"No dont, please!"
The man moved in beside Shiress leaning close to the girl as not to allow his slave close proximity. With his knife, he drew a long thin line of crimson across Shiress's ribs.
Shiress screamed.
"Strike her, Zavya!" he yelled, voice filled with a manic desire
"Don't do it, Zavya." Shiress's cried.
Another thin line appeared beneath the first, again Shiress screamed.
"Strike her or I will continue to carve her into pulp."
The blade slid across Shiress's flesh again, and now her screams mingled with Ryker's demand as his knife moved.
"Strike her!"