It was perfect, perfect, each blow summoning an echoing cry until they melt into a steady wail, and without consciously realizing it, slipping out of consciously realizing anything, he rose up on the balls of his feet, flinging himself back against the lash to the extent of the give of his bonds.
"Yes," he sobbed, and "More," but indistinctly between his moans and cries. His awareness has narrowed blessedly to the binary of the strikes and the anticipation between blows.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-03-23 09:17 am (UTC)"Yes," he sobbed, and "More," but indistinctly between his moans and cries. His awareness has narrowed blessedly to the binary of the strikes and the anticipation between blows.