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The single-tail whip. Today is about scaring her, and this makes a delightful crack when snapped the right way. The rest? I want her to see them when she cleans the room.

I pause; she glances over her shoulder in the corner of my eye. Looking straight at the door.

“Don’t bother trying to leave. You won’t be successful, and it’ll only make things harder for you.” She returns to hanging her head. “Now, as a socialite politician, you must speak Russian,” I say as I wrap my fingers around the handle of the single-tail whip.

“Y-yes.” Her voice quakes. I turn around and stalk over, allowing the tail of the whip to graze the floor behind me.

“Given the actions of your dear brother, Violet is in no shape to help you through this.” I stop just to the side of Morgan’s trembling lump on the floor, standing square. “Pred’yavi.” Present it. Violet gets out of bed, the blanket falling and revealing her nearly naked body. I have her in a simple black lace set for this session. Violet kneels at my side in front of Morgan and bows her head to the side.

Revealing my mark.

“W-what is that?” Morgan asks, her eyes wide at the sight.

“That is my mark; the mark of her Master.” She looks up, meeting my gaze.

“Glaza vniz!” Eyes down! I bark out the order, and her eyes dart to the floor. I rest my hand on Violet’s shoulder. “Vol’no.” At ease. Violet rises and takes her place back in bed. “In this space I am Master, and you are Slave. You will address me as Master, and I, you, Slave.” I walk behind her, circling the whip loosely around her neck and slowly drag it back away. “While I use this exercise to build a positive mindset in Violet, I do not like you. I want to kill you… So, while I will work to preserve some of my core principles here, you will receive a vastly different experience than my wife.” Stepping around, I crouch in front of her again. “Do you understand, Slave?”

“N-no…” She shakes her head in quick, shallow movements.

“I like pain, Slave. I like control. And I like to create art from the flesh.” I wrap the whip around her neck again. “Do you still want to be my girl, Slave?”

“No…” Her voice is thick and heavy. Teardrops fall down her cheeks.

“You should have considered that before you helped facilitate Violet’s kidnapping. Before your brother killed our daughter. I’m almost disappointed I killed him so quickly… This would be much more delicious with him beneath my boot.” Her wide eyes dart to mine. “Glaza vniz!” Eyes down! They shoot down again.

“M-Marc… He’s dead?” She cries, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Yes, Slave… So consider your actions carefully.”

I rise and crack the whip. She flinches and lets out a cry.

“Vstat’!” Rise! Slave stands, keeping her gaze towards the ground. Using the whip, I gently prod to adjust her stance. Legs strong, together, parallel. Arms at her sides, chin up while her gaze stays down. I stalk around her, checking her stance, noting the way she breathes. “This is Smirno.” At Attention. She swallows; tears continue to drip down her cheeks. We work through the rest of the poses: kneel, inspection, collar, floor, humble. Now for her first punishment. “Stand before the wall.” Slave steps quickly to where I point with the whip. Grabbing a coin from the top drawer, I flip it in the air and catch it. “You’ve been a bad girl, Slave. You must be punished.” She shivers as I brush the whip over her shoulders and down her back. “Although, I promised Violet that I would not harm your flesh if you behaved yourself. Will you behave, Slave?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Khoroshaya devoushka.” Placing the coin on the wall, I hold it there with my finger. “Hands behind your back, nose to the coin. Hold it there.” A breath quakes out of her, but she presses her nose to the coin, and I release it. “You have thirty minutes. Do not move.”

I turn; my sights set on Violet.

My Flower.

My Wife.

“Cain… What are you doing?” She asks as I stalk towards her.

“I’ve missed you,” I say as I remove my shirt and unfasten my buckle. I love the way her eyes move over me, like she can’t get enough of me, like I can’t get enough of her. Shoving my pants and boxers down, I yank the blanket away from Violet, then crawl onto the mattress and right on top of her.

“Cain, I can’t do anything, remember?” She places her palms on my chest, making a false and feeble attempt to keep distance between us.

“Call me Husband in this space.”

“Husband, I need to be on rest until I’m done healing.”

“I know, I won’t fuck you.” Wrapping my arm around her waist, I tug her down, and she rewards me with a delicious yelp. Slipping my fingers through the hem, I slip her lingerie off and toss it aside. I slide my hand over her waist, down her thigh, then pull her leg and hook her around my hip. Placing my hardening cock right over her pussy. Lowering myself down, I claim her lips in soft, slow kisses as I gently rock my hips.