Patrick tensed, waiting. Would she bite him like Claudius did? Would she beat him? His breath choked into a terrified rattle and every hair stood on end, desperately sensing for her. Was she close? How close?
There was a whoosh of air, then a crack. A millisecond later Patrick felt the sting on his naked back. A whip? Holy Jesus! Was she really?
A second crack killed the question and he choked back a cry of burning pain. The impact of the next lash drove him to his knees. He held himself up, hands braced against the cold floor.
"Four," she said dispassionately as she cracked the whip again. "Five. Six."
The echoes of Patrick's screams died. He could feel her draw close, though he couldn't see her. Her breath tickled his raw back, then he felt something hot and moist slide over the raw
