Her screams had morphed into helpless sobs and pathetic little whimpers at this point. She was locked securely against the cross, hanging uselessly from the cuffs that held her wrists. Her body had gone more or less limp a while ago - right around the time her screams had quieted. Her back was covered in deep, red marks and blood leaked from several of the deeper ones, and yet he wasn't done.
They'd done a dozen scenes together, so he knew he could push her further. And the Sadist in him wanted to force at least one more gut-wrenching scream from her throat before he let up. Fingers itching around the handle of the bullwhip, he ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, giving her just a little breathing room after his most recent lash. The audience around them had gone silent. Some had walked away the second he drew blood. Others stared at the scene before them, almost transfixed while others still smiled at the display. Then he drew back, technique perfect as the whip landed right in its intended spot - exactly where she already had an angry mark. In response, her body jerked violently and her sobbing increased, babbled and mostly incoherent pleading falling from her lips. Ezra sucked in a deep breath and smiled as he watched new drops of blood surface. "Was that a thank you, I heard?" He mused calmly, tilting his head a little. When she only sobbed in response, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head at her. "Say 'thank you for hurting me, Sir'," he demanded, running his hand along the cruel length of the whip almost in a loving caress.
