Although not nearly as loud as Charles, Abigail sent up her own muffled prayers to the night. Beth alternated between the crop and a wooden paddle someone had given her, first a left backhand with the paddle, then one from the right with the crop on the other leg. The blows weren’t overly hard but they were steady. Charles instantly recognized the devious technique since Lillian had used it on him. Each blow itself wasn’t hard to take, but when kept up without a break such a thing became a war of wills between the dominant and the submissive. But only if the dom cared how much the sub could take. From what Charles knew of her, Beth didn’t have any such qualms. She wasn’t going to stop until Abigail fell to her knees.
Reeve grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. “You better stop worryi
