Whipping Post

The clear plastic harness digs deep into Jandi's face, straps pulled tight until every breath tastes like leather and dread. She stands locked on the steel bar, arch aching, trying to shift weight that won't come. Her black hair sticks to her damp neck while the ball gag forces every sound back down her throat. She knows the whip's first kiss is seconds away, but the wait stretches thin like wire. Five minutes? Ten? Every extra second counts as a small cruelty she can't name. Sweat slides under the gag strap. Already her legs shake. Already the pain is only just beginning.