CADE Sloane was glorious in her anger. Her quiet, simmering, steady rage was truly a thing of beauty. She brought the whip down on James’ face again and again as he cried out and convulsed under her ministrations. Her chest heaving with the effort, a sheen of sweat on her brow, eyes hard as steel. He was freely bleeding all over his body, the red liquid tracking down his pale skin in a macabre fashion. Again and again she brutalized him, a sinister smile twisting her pretty lips as she did so. Using each tool at her disposal she cut, sawed, pried and beat his body raw. Pride swelled in my chest, Sloane was vicious when necessary; this I knew from my extensive research on her. Seeing it in action however, that was something different entirely. She was in her element here, the darkness in her taking control and her emotions held at bay by a thin leash. I could see her wanting to lose
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