Her hands are bound behind her back with duct tape. A white cloth gag covers her mouth, only allowing the occasional muffled sob or moan. Her black hair is short and a stray strand of it hangs over her left eye. Her slim, petite naked body is covered in small abrasions and lacerations and bruises. Dark splotches of old blood can be seen here and there around the many cuts and scrapes. Blue veins show starkly beneath her pale skin. Tears flow down her cheeks, staining two lines through the dirt. Her large blue eyes are pleading with me. She wants it but she is terrified by what I am about to do to her.
Her fear makes her shaky and weak and she is easily forced to her knees. She looks back over her shoulder at me with those huge, trusting, crying eyes. A choked sobbing sound can be heard as she presses her cheek against the rough concrete floor and sticks her rear into the air, spreading her legs. I take a riding crop from a hook on the wall and swing it through the air. It makes a sharp slap as it contacts her naked buttocks. She flinches in pain but makes no noise other than a low whimper. Again I swing the crop, raising an ugly red welt on her other cheek. Despite the abuse, probably because of the abuse, her pussy is beginning to glisten with juices. Her pussy lips are swollen and her clit is peeking out of its hood. The smell of her sex is strong in the air, mingling with the scents of sweat and blood. She slides her knees farther apart and wiggles her ass in a sinfully seductive and pleading way. My eyes meet hers once more and this time there is something new in her look. Through the tears and behind the fear is a kernel of flaming animal passion and desire.