Two doors led in and out of the room and with no windows on its walls, no draught coursed that space.
And yet the cool air it contained gnawed at every inch of Arabella's exposed skin. Every cell affected, every hair on her body up begging for a touch of warmth, a breath to break the pattern.
Stuck in that less than comfortable position, hands behind her back, clasped around her elbows as her hamstrings screamed for relief.
However, Zarah wasn't quite done with her.
Indeed, she waved that thin yet terrifying crop around as a constant reminder of the role she occupied in the young woman's torments, cutting the air that whistled with every sudden shift in matter.
"I have something to do for now, " Zarah's eyes traveled up and down Arabella's aching Body, "Stay in that position until my return, do you understand, whore?"
"Yes, mistress," she squeaked.
