The Burial

The placed the first strike on my back and I closed my eyes. The pain felt like I got stung by bees. I felt the pain for some seconds before it reduced.

I was to take five strokes.

He hit the second one and I let out a squeak. I was on my brallette and a black short. It was underneath the pajamas I wore earlier before I moved to the roof.

It felt like the world was coming to an end as he stroke the third one.

"Please," I begged silently as he was about to hit the last one.

He walked in front of me and placed his hands on my jaw. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. My hands were tied up and my hair was in a loose pony tail.

"I promise the last one would not hurt," He said in a reassuring voice and I almost believed him.

He stroked again and this time I fell to the floor. He cut off the ropes.

Damon placed his cold hands on my face and caressed it.

"You're going to be fine," He whispered in my ears.

I heard as he left the room.

I could not wear a backless dress for the next few w