Screams echoed throughout the bare room. The sound of silver chains hitting against fresh wounded flesh was mixed in beautifully to him as he stood leaning against the wall watching it all. To him it was art, the blood that stained her now ripped blouse on her back. The way how she pulled at the silver shackles clasped around her wrists and ankles. The item of his choice was a silver chained cat o' nine tails, with each stroke her skin would burn and keep on burning with the wound staying open as another stroke hit her back. The scent of blood filled the air, tears of agony rolled down her face, he walked around and crouched before her as one of his loyal men whipped her some more.
"Am I pleased with your lustful actions tonight?" he asked.
Crying out again as the chains bit into her ski
