Spin the Wheel - White's Funhouse

She nodded, trembling lightly at the scrape of leather and metal against her flesh.

"You wish to ask one of a specific context, or me to simply choose?" she asked, not quite flinching, but coming close at a few points.

The flogger continued to tease. "Precious and telling. You know what I seek."

She hung her head, almost seeming embarrassed.

"I am the High Priestess of the Ancient Order of Druids here. I am one of perhaps two hundred people who still follow the ancient ways. I've been a druid all my life. Not many actually know that; most think I am Wiccan. I like to let them think that, so that they cannot find out what I actually believe in. If they know what I believe, they will try to take it from me, as so many have done before."

The flogger was gone. A moment later, he touched her cheek and then kissed her softly. "I will not take it from you." he whispered. "You've earned your respite."

She smiled when she felt the touch of his lips against hers. She stood there for a moment, then she licked her lips slowly. Carefully, she nodded.

"I'm good now. Thank you."

He caressed her cheek again. "You're not angry with me?"

Her head tilted, as though she were looking at him, even blindfolded.

"Why would I be angry with you?"

"For extracting a secret."

She smiled.

"I'm not angry."

"Good." the flogger smacked her on the back this time. "Let's see if I can win another."

She seemed to arch into these. Whatever it was she had said about being modest? Yeah, not so much now. Her back arched, slightly bent over as she was, it was very similar to the pose he had her in previously.

She moaned with each blow that rained over her back, her fingers actually curling around the restraints that held her in place. She wasn't going to ask him to stop anytime soon, that much was clear. But all thoughts of being conservative had clearly fled her.

"Please," she said in a voice that was more a moaning whimper than any other sound. "Please touch me."

She had probably asked for that one. Probably.

But, it seemed to be enough for the woman shuddering under the blows being rained on her back. At least, enough for something, since her head snapped up, her fingers tightening around her restraints.

"Please ... stop ... " she whispered, but not from any need for relief of pain. She was panting, and had she been mortal, she would have probably been sweating. In this, her voice wasn't a moan or a whimper. But a carefully controlled, carefully steeled whisper.

"Please. Please, please, please." It was an odd sort of begging, but it was begging nonetheless. But then, when one is close to disgracing themselves entirely, you would be surprised at the sort of things that get asked for.

The flogging continued even as his hand trailed downward, teasing just above her nether-regions. "What do you offer?"

She was completely tense under his fingers, almost as hard as stone. She whimpered softly, holding herself completely still by what seemed like force of will alone.

"A secret ... of your choice."

"Accepted. I will save that for later." He withdrew from her, then watched her body as she recovered.

She didn't do anything spectacular. Really, she seemed to just breathe, slow and even. It was forced, that much was for sure, but she seemed to simply need a few moments to gather herself.

Once she had relaxed enough to unclench her hands from the restraints holding her, she nodded to him.

"Thank you," she said, smiling as she nodded again. "I'm good now."

He reached out and grasped her chin. "What will you offer me the next time?"

That was a good question. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she seemed to shrug.

"That depends on what you want, I suppose."

"I want you to be creative. What could you offer me?"

She seemed to smirk.

"You wished for me to bare my soul to you. If I offer you a portion, will that be sufficient?"

"It might. Shall I proceed? Or will you offer it up now?"

She smiled.

"Proceed. The offer may not be needed."