“Turn around.”
Alice turned, feeling vanquished, emotionally as well as physically.
“Is my b***h clean?” Jane was speaking over Alice’s shoulder.
“Absolutely,” said Fro.
“I don’t see much color here. Have you been whipping her regularly?”
“Every day, just as you ordered,” Fro protested defensively. “This slut is like one of those characters in an animated cartoon. Drop an anvil on her and she comes back for more. She can take a lot more punishment than we been givin’ her.”
Alice too had been surprised by her powers of recuperation. The abuse she had already suffered should have left her maimed, perhaps even dead; but, in dreams, the impossible may be normal.
“Then we will have to give her more,” said Jane. She smacked Alice’s bottom and watched the rising hand print with a critical
