Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

It’s not the heavy breathing or the sluggish pounding in her ears that the girl hears, but the steady dripping. Through the pain on her back and butt, her swollen eyes stay focused on the red splashes that land on the floor below her.

Drip.

Drip.

Her body jolts as another wave of pain hits her. Tears fall from her eyes and mix with the small puddle of blood. A scream creeps up her throat and she tries so hard to force it back, but it slips free anyway.

Snapping her mouth shut, she ignores the laugh her screams cause and focus once again on the drips.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

She’s grateful she’s on her stomach with her head hanging off the bed and not forced to look at the man. She’s glad she can’t see the blows coming from the belt he’s using on her. At least this way, she can close her eyes when it gets to be too much and not be punished even more for it.

“Lelu, Lelu,” the man tsks. He lifts his arms and swings it back down, landing the belt against her back again and breaking open the skin even more. “You know you’re mine, right?”

The girl lies there stiff, unmoving, and not saying a word. He grabs a handful of her hair and yanks back. Her groan of pain sends pleasure through him.

“Answer me,” he growls in her face.

Blood drips from her lips and nose from the blows he gave her when he first came into the room, and it makes him hungry. He’s always hungry for her. He’ll never get enough.

“Y-yes,” the girl whimpers.

“Say it!” he demands harshly.

The girl closes her eyes before she can stop herself, but they immediately snap back open when the man wraps his hand around her throat and squeezes. Her eyes feel like they are about to pop out of her head.

“Say the fucking words, Lelu!” the man screams.

The pressure around her neck lessens, and although the words taste more foul than anything she’s ever encountered before, she whimpers, “I’m yours.”

Yellow teeth meet her answer as the man smiles in her face. He dips his head and runs his tongue along her cheek down to her busted lip, licking up the blood still dripping from it.

“Remember that,” he whispers. “You’ll always be mine.”

He releases her head and it bounces on the dirty mattress, leaving behind a smear of blood. Her eyes fall back on the puddle of blood and a moment later, blood starts dripping again.

Drip.

Drip.

Her hands dig into the mattress by her hips when another blow hits her back. The trickles of blood sliding from the wounds on her back and butt scald her as if tiny flames move along the skin. Soon she’ll escape this nightmare. Soon she’ll be in a blissfully fatal slumber, never to wake again.

The man sits back on the girl’s calves and contemplates the master piece of scars, cuts, and welts before him. He loves looking at the many marks he’s put on her because he’s the cause of them. He’s the one that put them there. Any time she sees them, she’ll be forced to think of him. The thought sends blood rushing to his cock. He pushes the need to mount and fuck her to the back of his mind. Now’s not the time for that.

The leather wrapped in his hand tightens, causing the blood circulation to cut off. There’s a pinch of pain in his palm and he looks down at the metal buckle. Gazing back down at the web of scars, a twisted smile forms on his face. He loosens the belt from around his hand, grabs the other end, and winds that part around his hand. He drags the buckle down her back, making sure to hit the open wounds. Streaks of blood trail behind it adding to the beautiful canvas in front of him. He wants more. There’s still not enough marks.

He slides back further until his ass is on her feet. Once he’s situated, he brings back his arm, keeping his eyes on his target–her lower back–then swings forward.

The girl screams as piercing pain radiates up and down her back. This is different. This is worse. It feels like he just shot a dull knife in her back. Dark spots filter through her vision and nausea forms in her belly. She wants to struggle, to beg for the pain to go away, to kick and yell, and do the exact same thing the man just did to her, but the pain holds her immobile. It freezes her in place, scares her to move for fear of the pain becoming worse.

Blood pools in the fresh wound and the man’s eyes fixate on it. A new mark that will forever be on her body, forever branding her as his. He lifts his hand again and lets the belt fly forward, putting another mark just below the first. He does this three more time, ending with five fresh marks, before he’s satisfied.

After looking at his artwork for several moments, he bends and places his mouth at her ear. He rubs his chest against the wounds, causing the girl to cry out from the coarse hair scraping her back.

“Now you’ll never forget who you belong to,” he whispers before grinding his hips into her backside, showing the girl just how excited he is from the pain he’s caused her, and what she knows will come next…