His smile, or the cruel smirk that passed for one, chilled her to her core. The moment of silence stretched out and she trembled slightly. This was what she truly hated, the knowing. The knowledge that he was going to punish her, that he was going to hurt her. The wait kept her anxious, frightened and off guard. When he finally spoke she jumped and blushed deeply. She hated herself for being so responsive to him, for falling prey to his sadistic mind games. For the briefest of moments she had hope as he relented and told her she could keep her clothing on. The cost of her disobedience made her sweet, angelic face twist into a look of disgust. The mere thought of his suggestion made her want to be ill.<span style="color: indigo"> "Even in the situation i find myself i am still a lady and there is no way i would disgrace myself by acting in such a manner." </span>Her hand slipped upt to tug nervously at her hair, a nervous habit, as she watched his smirk widened into a grin that was cruel and frightening.<br/><br/>Instinctively she tried to take a step back at the sight of that cruel grin. She had already learned what it meant and as she felt the lash kiss the soft skin of her stomach her assumption proved true. With pain shooting through every nerve in her body her lungs felt paralyzed. She mouth opened to scream but only a strangled little sound came out. Through a haze of tears shecould see that if anything, his smile was bigger than before. Zoey felt the line of agony across her stomach and was sure the whip had torn skin along with her dress. She found her voice as the second blow fell across her heaving chest, leaving a rend in the dress's fabric a second time and leaving a line of searing agony in its wake. The third fell against the front of her thighs and she shrieked in pain a third time as tears streamed over her face. The suffering shown on that pretty face was exquisitve. When his hand raised the fourth time, instinctively she moved to grab his arm, to stop the torment he was inflicting. This was not an act of aggression, rather self-preservation as she gripped his wrist in both small hands. She tried to stop the decent of the torurous whip, pressing closer to him to stay out of the reach of the whip even though anywhere her body touched his sent fresh pain through her. moving hurt, breathing hurt, simply -being- hurt. She would not give in to him even now, but she was desperate to stop the pain even though in the back of her mindshe knew that she was only compounding her punishment<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>