Innocence Lost

Jerry is writhing on the cross now, he’s desperate to extricate himself but knows he’s firmly bound.  The first blow of the bull whip lands full force across his back.  It makes a loud ‘cracking’ sound and the tip of the lash wraps around the fleshy side of his back.  Another crack rings out as he is struck again.  And again, and again. Vivid weal marks appear as the bull whip does its work.  Blood appears and runs down his back.  The blood is now on the whip, now on Christopher’s gloved hand, now on his arm and chest.  He continues to flay his victim who jolts in agony as each stroke lands home.

‘‘Taste the whip, Jerry.  Feel its tongue on you.  Taste the whip and plead for me.’’

‘‘This is hard work, Jerry.  How are you? Oh look at that, my hair has frizzled. Good job I’ve got my straightening tongs with me.’’

He removes his wig and places it on the bed before plugging in the straighteners. Then he walks round and faces his victim.  He gets up close to Jerry’s face.

‘‘Ever been fucked, Jerry?’’

‘‘Are you deaf?  EVER BEEN FUCKED?’’

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)