Brat! Arrgh!

Lexi showed up looking to play the game. Begged for the flogger, hard, then fought the sting with every breath. I laid it on thick—face slaps, spit on her cheeks—until tears ran, but she swore she was nowhere near her limit. The shoot dragged. Five hours of stop-and-go checks while she blinked away wet lashes. When it ended she smirked at the lens and said I’d gone soft. Arrgh. Next time she talks that much trash, we lock the door, slide the bolt on a steel cage, and see how long the brat lasts when nobody’s stopping to wipe her face.