"Torah, please. No," she whispered.
"Now!" he snapped. Somehow, she made her feet move.
"Please," she tried one more time. He stared in her eyes as he yanked one arm over her head and tied her wrist with the leather. He did the same with her other arm, still holding her eyes. The depth of the anger in his eyes terrified her. When she was stretched between beam and floor, he finally looked up to check the knots, then turned away to snatch up her top from the floor where she had dropped it. He twirled it between his hands into a band and wrapped it around her eyes.
Jessa heard him walk back to the tack area. When his steps came back again, she tensed and goose
bumps rose on her skin. Something slapped gently against her belly and trailed up over her breasts and against the side of her face. It felt like more leather straps, maybe five or six. She trembled, sensing what was coming. The straps dangled back and forth across her ass and she instinctively tried to pull away. The sensation disappeared only to be followed immediately by the sting of their lash across her back. She cried out despite her vow to remain silent. The straps lashed again against her ass, even harder. She tried to twist away, but then they fell on her belly and then across her breasts, each strike falling harder than the last. When she twisted again, the straps bit into her back and side, wrapping around and pulling at her. Each time she twisted, the rein that bound her wrists shortened and she was drawn higher and higher onto her toes, but the instinct to pull away from the lashing was too strong. The blows continued and she could feel drops of blood beginning to trickle. She was sobbing freely now and begging him to stop. He made no sound, save his heavy breathing. Another blow fell across her breasts and Jessa screamed.
As if that was a trigger, the blows ceased. Jessa was gasping for air between her sobs, teetering on her toes. She began to turn slowly, to untwist the strap that bound her. When her feet were flat on the floor again, they were suddenly kicked apart and the straps swung up hard between her legs, targeting her clit and pussy. She threw her head back and howled. Instantly, her legs were snatched up about Torah's waist and his cock was buried deep in her pussy, enflaming the sting of the lashes further. Torah's arms pinned her legs against his sides and his hands dug into her ass cheeks, furthering the sting of the lashes that had fallen there. He began slamming into her.
"Torah," she gasped, trying to get the words out. "If you tear me apart, I won't be able to bear your children." He didn't say anything, but his thrusts eased up slightly.
Just when she was beginning to think he would go on forever, he finally came. He pulled out almost immediately and suddenly her arms were free. She was falling backward, fully expecting to crash head first into the floor, but at the last minute, his hand was behind her head and his other hand caught her knee as her legs slid from his waist. He laid her on the cement floor of the stable and she rolled to her side trying to curl up into a ball but then his foot was pushing her onto her back. "Knees up. Lay still." His voice was hard and commanding, but it seemed like the angry edge had been burned out.
His steps moved away, and Jessa took a chance to remove her makeshift blindfold. Torah was replacing the reins that he had been using. She saw him glance at his watch, timing her no doubt, giving his sperm the best chances. She looked at her wrists where the remnants of the other rein were still tied. They had been cut clean through. So he carried a knife, useful information, she thought to herself. She began to work at the knots with fingers and teeth. Torah had moved to a stall and was fondling a horse, though he kept his eyes on her, ensuring compliance. After some twenty minutes, he moved toward her, picking up her clothes and tossing them to her. "Get dressed."
She sat up and sucked in a sharp breath. The cool cement had soothed her stinging back and ass slightly, but movement had obviously torn newly formed scabs. Her muscles ached from the all out run, her skin burned everywhere a strap had landed, her arms and shoulders throbbed from being suspended, and her womb and pussy hurt from the brutal assault. As she painfully drew her shirt over her head, she realized that come and blood were dribbling from her vagina onto the cement floor. It was all she could do to keep from sobbing again. Torah was watching her, his expression impassive. She drew her panties and shorts on, then pulled the shoes over feet that were possibly the only part of her that didn't hurt. Her bra, she picked up and threw back at Torah. "Here. Souvenir."
He caught it in midair. His expression didn't change, but when she tried to stand up, his hand was on her arm. She wasn't sure if that was for support, or control. But she also wasn't sure she would have made it without the help. She saw him glance at the small puddle of blood and come on the floor, but again, his expression didn't change and he was pulling her back toward the door of the stables. At least this time, he wasn't pulling her by her hair.
He led her along what appeared to be a bridle path among trees. The ground was mostly level, and as she moved, her muscles loosened up somewhat. Even the sting in her back and front side had eased a little bit, though she could feel blood seeping through her clothes, here and there. Torah had managed to strike her only where the marks would be covered by the shorts or top. But he couldn't cover the blood. The one pain that hadn't gone away was the deep ache in her belly. She couldn't help but wonder if Torah had done damage sufficient to end her possible pregnancy even as he had foiled her plan for physical exertion.
When they emerged from the trees, they were in the broad greenspace about the villa, crossing the neatly trimmed grass toward the back of the building. Torah's grip on her arm tightened and his stride lengthened. Once inside the atrium, he led her straight to the staircase. As she climbed her leg muscles cried out in protest. "Please, Torah. Slow down," she said softly.
"Should have thought of that when you..." he muttered, but was interrupted by the shouts of the twins as they burst out of a room and into the atrium. Mia was following them as a slower pace.
"Jessa, Jessa! Wait!"
"Not now, boys." Torah said. "Jessa's had a little... accident on our run this morning."
"Samu, Saula!" Mia called. "Come back, the program isn't done." She glanced up at Torah and Jessa with a frown. "Is everything okay?"
"Nothing a little TLC won't cure," Torah assured her.
Jessa wanted to laugh bitterly at the thought of Torah using the acronym for tender loving care. But when she glanced at him, he was giving her that dark, warning glare. He started climbing again, albeit slightly slower. When they reached their room, Torah opened the door and pulled her inside, then immediately picked up the key. He gave her a push. "Go take a shower." Then he was back out the door, and she heard him locking it. She sighed and went into the bathroom.
Disrobing was painful. The material of her clothes wanted to stick where blood had soaked through and dried. Raising her arms above her head was agony. When she finally had the clothes off, she examined the damage in the mirror. Numerous red welts crossed her back, front and sides, but relatively few had actually broken the skin. There was dirt from the stable floor and she had scraped a knee when she had fallen -- or been thrown down -- on the hillside. In general terms, she was a mess. Even her head was aching now and she badly wanted to have a good cry, but she didn't know when Torah would be back and she sure as hell wasn't going to give him a fine display of self-pity.
She stepped into the shower and the hot water shot out at her, reviving every stinging welt. Jessa gasped searching for a way to turn down the water pressure. She finally realized that the showerheads themselves could be adjusted to a gentler spray. After a moment, she took up the sponge and began gently dabbing at her abused flesh. It was the longest shower she had ever taken and still she didn't have a great deal of confidence that she had cleaned sufficiently to prevent infection. Her arms had hurt too much to shampoo her hair, or it would have been even longer.
Jessa stepped out of the shower and turned to the towel rack only to discover Torah standing there, waiting for her with a towel. She gasped in surprise and tried to take the towel from him, but he held it out of her reach, twirling a finger to sign that she should turn around. "Put your hair up," he commanded, reaching around her to open the drawer where she had found brushes and combs. She looked in the mirror and realized that he was standing there behind her, holding the towel up, with no intention of using it until she complied. His eyes were on the mirror, examining the welts that crisscrossed her belly and breasts, seemingly admiring his work.