***LONDON’S POV***
‘Oh shit! Fucking shit! Zane isn’t bluffing when he says he is going to torture answers out of me,’
I think for a reason not to let him do so, but Zane is now rolling his shirt up, making sure that I know what is coming for me.
“Can I use my safe word, please?” I ask trembling.
“You wouldn’t need a safe word if you open up to me, London. Unless… You are hiding information from me, huh?” he demanded walking behind me, prolonging my torture.
I closed my eyes, bracing for the first whip, but that was the craziest part because I would know when Zane was going to strike first.
“Daddy…” I murmured and then it came hard on my backside.
“Ow! Fuck! Daddy Owwie!” I scream out as I start jumping on my tippy toes.
Zane gave a second blow, and a third on my backside as I screamed and squealed.
My hands hurt from their restraints, and whenever I tried pulling my hand from the restraints, the slash on my hand caused by the cut of the mirror made me cry harder.
“Was there someone with you in that bathroom?” Zane questions and I whimper, thinking that if I make little sounds, Zane wouldn’t notice shit.
Zane walks in front of me, he sets his eyes on my face as he smirks.
“Reply to me,” he orders.
I shake my head in denial.
Zane walked away from me and then, the blows started raining on my backside.
“It hurts. You can’t torture me like this,” I shout hoping someone would hear me.
Anyone, right now, I just needed to wind up with someone that would come to my rescue.
“Who was in that bathroom with you?” Zane’s harsh voice pierces my ear as he paces the floor.
If he knows the answer, why does want me to confirm it again? I wondered.
“You should let me go, Zane. I hate you,” the words spill out of my mouth as I thrash around.
Zane grabs my face in his large sweaty palm and I pull back to look at his face which has early stubble on them.
“You think this is some sort of joke for you? Don’t play with me,” he fires out, little spittle falling on my face.
“Go fuck yourself, Zane. No one was in there with me,” I let out, panting heavily.
“Is that so? You got a little wild while you were in the bathroom right? Is that what you want to tell me?” he asks shaking his head in disbelief.
I nod.
This time when Zane went behind my back, I knew the game had changed when the air in the atmosphere drifted from forceful to dark.
“What are you going to do to me?” I question, waiting for Zane’s reply.
“Give you a chance to amend your mistakes,” he mouthed.
The next stroke attacked me at the back of my thigh.
That was the area my fucking husband was attacking to torture me.
Five blows and I was gasping for air, my body felt like wood.
“Red! Daddy Red!” I kept chanting as I cried out.
Snort was running down my nostrils, I couldn’t breathe well, and my head was spinning.
“If you think I’m about to stop because this punishment hurts, then wait until I attack that soft area between your legs with my whip,” he says.
Two blows went lower to the back of my knee, each leg taking a blow. If I thought I was strong and I could take more then I was joking.
“Michael Logan!” I screamed out loud as the third stroke landed on my leg.
I heard Zane throw the cane down and I felt some relief in my chest.
“What did you say?” he inquires.
I was breathless now, but still, I managed to reply to Zane.
“Michel Logan. That was who I was in the bathroom with,” I blurt out crying shutting my eyes, and bowing my head down.
“Look at me,” Zane orders.
I shake my head lightly.
“Put your fucking head up and look at me, London,” he screams and I obey.
Liquid starts dripping on the carpet and Zane’s eyes go down to my feet. At first, I see the confusion on his face, and then, he looks at me, our eyes meet as I knees before me, touching the liquid on my leg and bringing it to his nose.
“You just pissed yourself? I am so disappointed in you right now,” Zane calls out shaking his head.
I felt a lump grow in my throat, pushing it down was impossible, I stared at him for a moment before shifting my glare to the mess I just made.
“I am sorry, Daddy,” I apologize, more tears streaming down my eyes.
Zane knew how to humiliate me. He never misses even the slightest moment to do so.
“I want to be alone, please,” I beg but he declines.
“I will stop flogging if you decide to open up and tell me exactly what happened with Michael earlier,” he says.
I nod. “Untie me first, please, Daddy,” I beg.
“I don’t trust you not to lie to me the moment you get comfortable, London,” Zane spits out in my face.
My chest tightens as I stare at him in shock. He didn’t just say that.
“Well, Mr. Daddy, if you had done your fucking job as my husband to protect me, I wouldn’t have been in a bathroom with a man who violated me,” I screamed at his face, not caring for anything.
Zane’s eyes widen in shock and I turn my head away.
“Michael laid his hands on you?” he asked holding his breath.
I didn’t reply and that was enough for Zane to go bunkers in this room.
I wanted to hold him, you told him to stay calm but that wasn’t going to be possible.
Immediately Zane left my sight of vision, I heard everything crashing down behind me.
“I swear, I will kill Michael with my fucking hands,” he swore as more things broke.