Page 14 of Kings of Cruelty

After the seventh blow, I hear a stifled sob.

“Shh,” Nikolai says. “Halfway there. You’re doing so well, zaya.”

I should resent him for comforting Sierra when I’m the one suffering. But I’m suffering for her sake, and she shouldn’t be punished for my weakness.

“You can leave, Sierra,” I say again, my voice hoarse. “You don’t have to watch.”

“I’m not leaving,” she replies, though her voice is ragged, too. She sniffles, and she says quietly, “Only a few more, and you’ll be forgiven. And I—” She hiccups, and she doesn’t finish the sentence.

I hear Kotya make a soft noise. His next strike is softer, and it catches me across my ass, where it will do less damage.

None of the lashes have wrapped around my sides, either.

“Eight,” Nikolai says.

I quickly mumble, “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry that I shot her. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to her. I’m sorry that I dragged her into this.

I’m sorry that I made her feel like she had to escape us.

The pain starts to ebb by the tenth blow, turning into something more intense. It still hurts, but it hurts in a different way. This is supposed to be punishment, penance, but I feel my body starting to react.

I realize my cock has started to get hard, too, and my ragged breathing has an edge of a moan to it as another strike lands.

Nikolai counts it out, but it’s all so fuzzy and blurry in the background that I can’t make out what he’s saying.

It doesn’t matter anyway.

I repeat my apologies, over and over, as the pain layers on me. My back is slick with blood, and my cock hardens further.

The whip strikes across an already opened wound, and I cry out, my voice echoing against the concrete walls. My body falters, but I grip the chains to keep myself upright.

I brace myself for the next lash, for Nikolai to count the next number, yet nothing happens.

“It is done,” Kotya’s voice says with finality. “Nikolai, uncuff him.”

Done? I moan and shake my head. We can’t be done. I don’t feeldoneyet.

There’s a rustling sound, then footsteps, and Nikolai approaches. He uncuffs me, and he catches me when I start to falter.

More footsteps, then Sierra is at my side. “Jesus fucking Christ, Kotya,” she says raggedly. “There’s—” She cuts herself off.

I reach out with one hand. I don’t know who I’m reaching for, but it’s Kotya who steps into the space. He guides me to lean against him, and my erection brushes against his slacks. I swallow a moan and bury my face in his large chest.

“It is done,” Kotya repeats, softer this time. “Let’s move him to the guest room down here.”

I take in a shaky breath and clutch his shirt. My eyes blur, and I try to blink away the tears. I don’t deserve to cry.

Except Kotya has forgiven me. Nikolai has forgiven me.

Sierra has forgiven me.

I can endure anything for that.

Kotya and Nikolai help me along, and I can hear Sierra trailing behind us. I’m grateful to get to the room down here, even though it’s not the most welcoming place; it’s more meant for our enemies than anything else.

But I know that isn’t how they think of me, not now that I’ve made my penance.

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