1: Beatrice

The first blow was a shock, the pain went shooting through my thighs, down my legs, and up to my back until there was a reverberation of anticipation flowing over my skin. A streak of humiliation hit soon after, it threatened to take every ounce of my pride and burn it in a heap of ash. I could almost see the ashes fluttering through the room, out the window, toward the ocean where the breeze would scatter them in the sea. My pride was wounded and heat rushed to my face, coating my cheeks with the unfamiliar bright red pigment.

Despite everything, my pride was all I had left, it was the only thing holding me together. I clung to it as I counted down the minutes of my life. I never thought the end would look like this.

It wasn't a hard blow, but it had enough force to make the sting tingle through my body, shaking the bars that were holding my resolve in place. He had used his hand, which was more than enough to make his point, that he was stronger than me, that he was in charge, and that I was at his mercy.

One blow and I already wanted to give in. I knew no one was coming for me. I was alone with my fate, and despite my months of survival, I found myself at the end. I knew this is how it would end, but the reality was I had hoped they would come for me. They didn’t come. I claimed I didn’t need a savior and they took it to heart. 

I sucked in a deep breath. I wouldn't be broken so easily.

Stay strong, B. Stay strong. Don't let them win.

The second blow wasn't as much of a shock as the first, but the sting was more poignant. The humiliation held steady. I could see the faces of the guards as they watched with heated eyes. I could feel the nerves in my legs and arms tingle with the sensation of the two blows. The patch of flesh that was being pounded stung acutely.

I knew there were more to come. I knew I should relax, it would make this so much easier if I wasn’t so tense. But my body had other ideas. The anticipation was as suffocating as the humiliation and I waited, my breath held, for the third blow.

He did not disappoint. It came swiftly, stinging through my backside. The lace of my underwear slid up as he ran his hand over the smooth skin and I could feel the rope restraining my wrists chafing against my skin.

It would blister, I thought absently, the same way my heels blistered after a day in new heels. My wrists would be covered in blisters from the rub of the rope and I would have a new set of scars. If I was lucky, that is, if I was lucky enough to live through this I would welcome the blisters.

I heard a low grunt from one of the guards and looked up, watching as his hand slid into his pants, rubbing up and down slowly, his eyes locked on me.

A flush rose through my chest and up my neck, staining my cheeks as I waited for the fourth blow. He had promised ten, and we weren't even halfway through yet. But, I could see the effect it was having on those watching. A heady feeling of power coursed through me.

I knew I was about to die. Ten lashes, then they would each take their turn. When they were finally done with their fun, I would end up in the sea. That was the price for my disobedience. Despite that knowledge, a feeling of power coursed through my blood. The fifth blow came, but I barely felt it. The humiliation had gone but my pride was intact. The feeling of helplessness had gone, too.

I had done everything I could, it was only a matter of time now. The struggle inside was waning. I let go of my emotions, and the beautiful feeling of release filled me with peace. I could finally accept my fate.

The end was near.