The Turk stepped back and took a long, narrow hickory switch from the wall. He swished it in the air in satisfaction. It would do nicely.
When Denise saw the switch, she realized that she was to be whipped. She remembered the sharp, painful lashes she had received from the Turk in the apartment. She realized that this was not to be several quick, sharp blows meant as a punishment. This was something else. This beating was to be for its own sake. It purpose was for nothing more than the satisfaction of her master’s sadistic pleasure.
Before commencing Denise’s torment, the Turk used small, thick leather belts to fasten Denise’s legs together at the ankles and just below her knees. He connected the ankle belt to a hook recessed in the floor. He then pulled the chain tighter, stretching Den
