Chapter Twelve
“You’re my b***h now.” Said Elrike. The echo of the cellar door slamming behind Daphne had died away.
“Our b***h, you mean.” Jasmine corrected her.
A leather strap snapped against my bottom cheeks with hellish force. I didn’t look back to see who had delivered the blow. I just slowed my breathing and relaxed into my bindings. I had endured enough beatings in recent weeks to learn that the lash is more keenly painful on tensed muscle. I knew that this one was likely to become an endurance event. My only hope was to bear it as gracefully as possible and not provoke my torturers with any impudent outbursts. The rubber bit would have helped me to check any rogue impulses, but Daphne had neglected to restore it.
“Mistress Daphne did you a favor,” said Elrike “She lubed you up
