cw: uhh whip. blood. associated misery
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"I have something fun planned for today," Janice sang as she entered the warehouse. "Well, not fun for you."
Uriah leaned heavily on the chains that held him up, trying not to let anticipative fear weigh too heavy on him at her words. It wouldn't save him. All he could do was... Was try not to make things worse.
"You're a pretty hated man, Fox," Janice continued. He could see in his peripheral that she was holding something, and he was sure he didn't want to know what that something was.
"No one is coming to save you."
Looking up at her was a mistake; his eyes immediately went to the whip in her hand, giving him an idea of what was to come. Obviously he didn't know what it felt like to be whipped, but he knew it wouldn't be a vacation.
It has to be better than anything else so far, he told himself stubbornly, ducking his head and trying to breathe deeply as she moved into position behind him.
She gave a warmup crack, and Uriah tensed at the sound, his muscles clenching as a second crack cut the air, this one meeting his back with a force that stole his breath. The leather slashed across his back, right over his kidneys.
Again, and again, and again.
The impact left him unable to even scream for a moment, a line of fire crashing over his lower back. Another barrage followed the first, and a scream was ripped from him as the shock gave way to pain, the sound growing longer until he was completely breathless.
The blows stopped, and Uriah slumped forward, panting. Was she done? She had to be done, right? This was so much worse than he'd pictured and---
"It only gets worse from here."