Strung to the St. Andrew’s cross and whipped mercilessly – first with a cat o’ nine tails, and then with an alligator whip – until my slave’s ass and back are marked with my cruelty. Slaves are for my torment. When you hurt, I feel pleasure. When you groan, I smile. It’s the circle of life. And you will be tied into place to ensure that there is no running away from my whips. I want you bound and helpless against the sting of my strokes. I love watching my whip kiss my slave’s back and bottom, leaving a red welt and marking my territory. I know it’s what he needs to ensure that he is a good boy. And I know it is what I enjoy, carving up his body for my own sadistic pleasure.
