Always more for redemption

Mystique's new appearance took a whip, tied her arms in the air and her feet shackled, leaving her completely exposed.

• I will purify you in my own way, whore. For what you did to me, you stole my life, I will take everything from you.

The whip cracked on the ground, then mercilessly lashed Malicia's left breast. The pain was searing, an electric shock that ran through her already bruised body.

Rogue screamed, the ropes binding her tightened under the **** of her jolts. Mystique, her eyes shining with hatred, raised the whip, cracking it again, this time on Malicia's side. The skin, already marked by the burning wax, was now streaked with dark red marks beneath the leather.

• You destroyed lives, Rogue," Mystique spat, her voice trembling with rage. "Now you'll pay for every tear, every scream you provoked."

Rogue felt pain with each blow, but also pleasure, and above all, a form of redemption. Her body shook from the increasingly violent blows and filled with hatred. Mystique could feel what Rogue's victims had felt because she had experienced it, and this opportunity also allowed her to take ****.

Mystique raised the whip once more, the straps snapping with a **** that shook the air. Rogue, her back already streaked with red marks, screamed as the pain exploded in flashes beneath her skin. Each blow was a blade slicing through not only her flesh, but also the walls she had built around her soul.

The tears flowed continuously, mixing salt with sweat and wax. Frozen to her skin. She felt her body breaking, but at the same time, a strange peace invaded her, as if each blow brought her closer to a redemption she had thought impossible.

The whip struck her breasts and vagina indiscriminately. Mystique was possessed by the vengeance and hatred that any victim of Malicia felt, finding herself imprisoned in another body like a hellish prison. Each stroke of the whip was a release for Mystique, an exorcism of the accumulated pain she had carried for years.

Rogue's skin, already scarred by wax burns, was now tearing beneath the leather straps, revealing bloody welts that bore witness to Mystique's boundless fury.

Rogue, her eyes wide with horror, felt her body disintegrate under the ****, each blow bringing her closer to a bottomless abyss as her body, seized by a kind of orgasm, lifted up and she let out a cry of victory and liberation.