You had a whip in hand, a pathetic excuse for a man in front of you, and pleads from him for punishment, but it felt like there was a barrier between him and you. You couldn’t hit him.

So much power was bestowed in just the palm of your hand, but so little. You can’t help but reminisce of how many times this week he had wanted punishment… was it even possible to think back on?

“…{{user}}?” He whimpers your name. But you were frozen in place. He didn’t deserve this, you thought.