Willow raised her chin and took a deep breath, her hand reaching out for the crop as she met Master's gaze. She blinked slowly, feeling the surrender to his will coiling around her brain like tendrils of smoke as her fingers closed around the crop's handle. Master's fingers brushed firmly against hers as she took it, and she gained strength from his touch; she could do this. She would do this; Master desired this. She took a half step closer to the bound woman, and raised the crop.

Sybil's eyes flew to hers, pleading; Willow hardened her gaze and brought the crop down on her right breast, connecting solidly with her nipple. A loud SNAP rang out, accompanied by a yelp, making Willow inwardly cringe with the remembered pain of having her own breasts cropped for disobedience. Willow tightened her grip on the crop and traced the tip over the sensitized skin of Sybil's breast. As the woman bit down on her lower lip against the coming pain, Willow brought it down again. SNAP. Sybil cried out in pain.

Willow glanced over to Master. He nodded at her to continue, his dark eyes unreadable. She trailed the crop across the Sybil's chest, refusing to meet her eyes as she drew the leather across the pale skin. She lightly tapped the end against Sybil's nipple, watching it contract at the touch, then swung. SNAP. Pause. Soothe. SNAP. She looked into Sybil's eyes after the fourth stroke; the beautiful blue eyes were swimming with unshed tears.

"More, Master?" Willow asked, looking over at her Master, prepared to raise the crop again and deliver more blows, even as the Sybil shook her head desperately.