Sybil saw the crop in his hand and drew a silent breath deep into her lungs. How could she have let herself get in this position. The crop stroked her nipple gently and she remembered.
Snap, it went through the air, pop it struck the nipple it had carressed moments ago. She gasped the air filling her lungs. Snap, pop, AHHHHHHHHHH. Escaped her, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh," she moaned. Down it went, each stroke laying a new line, a new mark on the blank canvas of her skin.