She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes.

I stepped away and readied the crop. I needed to get my head in the game and move. I was overthinking things. Overthinking her. “Forward. Hands and knees. Doggy style.”

“Wh…what?” The word seemed to trip out of her mouth, caught between tears and a sob.

“Forward!” I raised the crop, and she flinched.

“That’s what you do, isn’t it? You beat women. You tie them down and beat them until they’re so scared and broken, they have no will left. No will to defy you.”

I slid my fingers through the space between her collar and her pretty little neck. I hated what she said, but she only spoke the truth. “That’s right,” I said, tugging so she had to put her hands out in front of her or she’d fall on her face. “It’s what I do.”

“Fine!”

She tried to pull away, but I held her.

“You want to whip me? Fine. I’ve had worse. I’ve survived worse. You’re nothing. You can’t even tell me your name.”

I brought the crop down on her ass, and she bit back a scream. “Crawl,” I said, tugging her forward before releasing the collar, sending her scrambling to break her fall and striking again.

“At least I knew who Victor was!” She wept but crawled forward a little, pausing to wipe her face.

“I didn’t tell you to stop!” I drew her forward again, and she moved, hurrying to get out of the way of the crop. “Faster!”

“I can’t go faster, you sick prick.” She fell forward, her bound hands hindering her progress.

“Are you hungry?” I asked sharply as I delivered another stroke.

She glanced at me, and I saw the answer in her eyes, heard it in the way her stomach growled.

“Then you’d better move. Are you cold?”

She sucked back tears and paused again to wipe her face.

I struck, aiming where she’d been branded.

This time, she let go of a scream and fell to her side, protecting her hip, watching me accusingly.

“You’d better get used to this. Get used to being treated like this.”

“Like a fucking dog, you mean.”

“That’s a good way to think of it. This is obedience training, and you’re my bitch.”

“You’re a coward. You hide behind a mask. You carry your weapons, against what? Defenseless, bound women who are half your size?”

“Fuck you, Gia.”

“It’s what you do. Own it. But you have to own what it makes you too. A fucking coward.”

“How’d you get yourself caught, anyway?” I asked, gripping her collar and hauling her up to her knees. She fought like an animal. I leaned down so my face was inches from hers. “I’m getting the feeling you weren’t some random pickup.”

“Let me go. You’re hurting me!”