Me hurts you

She brushes the cat o’ nine tails across your chest. “I think I know why they call it the cat,” she says, and points it towards herself. “Me,” she says, then adds, “Owwww!” as she points it at you.

Me walks around you. As you hear her soft footprints on the floor, you brace yourself, and then you hear the cat slicing into your back. You buckle and jerk, and hear Me’s laughter.

“That doesn’t count as nine,” she tells you, and then you feel the second swipe and, before you’ve even finished squirming, the third.

“There, there, just six more to go, don’t cry,” she says, running her finger across your back, no doubt taking delight as you flinch in pain.

And then she takes a step back, and she’s swinging the cat o’ nine tails again and again,, as your body shakes and twists, and you pull against your unyielding manacles, crying out in pain, **** for it to stop.

“I believe that’s nine,” you finally hear her say, as you hang there, sobbing. “Oh, wait, I miscounted.”

You hear the cat whooshing through the air, but you don’t hear it cutting into your back, as it’s drowned out by the sound of your screaming.

You hang there, limp, as Me returns to face you. “Poor poor you, so much pain, so little pleasure. Maybe the next dice roll will improve your fortunes.”