"Again! Say it again!"
Craaaaaaaaack!
"I know what I've done and who I've become! I am the Mistress of your Suffering, the tongue that licks away your pa--"
"LOUDER!" The whip cracked again, this time, whipping a violent red line across her face. Blood blossomed from the fresh wound, painting a red river across her pale cheek. The tears that stained it earlier mixed into the exposed skin, burning and boiling beneath the gash. Still, she fought to maintain her stability through the torture. She battled against her inner desires to curl up and let him have his way with her. To allow him to tear her limb from limb, hanging them up around his throne like some trophies from his most prized game he had poached for in the wilderness. No one would expect for the King to do anything of that nature, of course. He was not only the King, but the High Priest as well, praising an entity that no one knew about before he stepped up to the throne once his uncle died.
Thus was her life, however. Watching the emending bathos of her royalty crumble by her mere mistake of summoning the large hawk in the middle of town. A wretched cough from the King made her look up, forcefully trying to see him through an eye that was swollen so much, it would have been closed had she not been struggling to keep it open. A blurred vision of his long, opaque coat filled eyes, her mouth gaping open but not releasing anything but sputtering and ragged breaths.
The king was not pleased.
Craaaaaaaaaaaack!
"I SAID, LOUDER!
"I KNOW WHAT I'VE DONE AND WHO I'VE BECOME! I AM THE MISTRESS OF YOUR SU-SUFFERING! THE TONGUE THAT LICKS...LICKS AWAY YOUR PAIN!" There was an orectic chuckle from deep within his throat each time her voice squeaked a pitch higher than normal. He groped at his pants, touching himself at the thought of her shrieking the same way she was doing now. At the sheer sight of her mouth gaping open as she apologized to him over and over again of her treachery; of her mistake at bending magic to her will in the middle of his people. He bent closed to her ear, a sadistic coughing lining his chuckle.
"A numen they spoke of...the way that hawk soared from nothing more than a flash of light, wasn't it...?" The question was rhetorical, she knew, but nothing came out but a yelp of pain, her bound hands suddenly losing their feeling and allowing for a stinging numbness to overtake the place of the blood pumping in her veins. There was a shuffle before a blinding white light pulsed through her right temple. Her head quickly whipped to the side, the jangle of her telesm attached to a bronze chain on her neck reaching her ears as if it were the only sound she heard through her own screams. She had no idea where the blow had come from or what she was hit with. She only screamed.
"Yes! Now you scream to the skies of your defiance! Shout!" The pain came again. Quicker. Harder. Brighter.
"Aiiiiiiieeeee!" Mingled in her screams was the King's harsh laughing, his voice ringing through the jubilation of his internal, sick thoughts. In his mind, she was bare, shrieking exactly as she was now. The light from the hawk summoning had surrounded the two in his thoughts while he toyed with her, tortured her, murmured for her to repeat the phrase again. To remind him that she was the tongue that licked away his pain.
Oh, how he yearned for those words again....
He was the King and Kings get whatever they wish.
