furaffinity.net/view/59672894/
Description
Whipping Boy
Story
How long had it been?
Snap.
How long did he have left?
Crack.
He couldn’t stop his body from shaking. He couldn’t stop the tears rolling down his face. He couldn’t stop the howls and cries from bleeding out. All he could do was sink deeper and deeper.
Yet the pain still tore through him. Wave after endless wave of ice-cold fire burning with every welt across his body. That was all he had left now. Just the warm, welcoming void of suffering that pulled him to the surface and kept him conscious through the trauma.
It was never going to stop.
There was a voice… It carried on the breeze somewhere from behind. From where his master must have been stood, somewhere out of frame from the camera recording his torture.
The horse struggled to listen.
“You can keep screaming if it helps.”
He continued to scream. It didn’t much help, but he still couldn’t stop.
“But the punishment is an hour.”
How long had it been?
Snap.
How long did he have left?
Crack.
Every whistle, every shriek, every sail of the whip slashing against him never relented. It tore through him, biting into his flesh, bringing him farther and farther from the breaking point he had long since passed.
It was never going to stop.
“Deep breaths.”
The slave inhaled, then exhaled. He needed to make it through. He needed to make it right. For his master’s sake, if not his own.
“We’re nearly halfway there.”
He began to scream all over again.
There are no comments.
Login to respond »