Alas, I still had twenty lashes to go. Reminding myself that Goddess’ pleasure was everything to me and my suffering, which fed it; I raised my head, marshaled my last resources and faced Goddess like a man as she returned from recording that second number and took up her original position again.
Her whip whistled through the air as it circled her head, picking up momentum and centrifugal force as it spun. Then it dropped as it lashed out at me, cutting this time into my lower belly and side, and so the counting began for a third time.
The skin down there was thinner and the agony correspondingly greater. Thus, the last twenty lashes passed in a nightmare of truly miserable suffering for me. Nineteen long, thin welts, some of them seeping fluid or even dripping blood crisscrossed my lowe
