For his pleasure

He pushed me back to the ground with a cruel smile.

• I always honor my promises. Too many people are incapable and disappoint me right now. Undress and position yourself for your punishment.

I got on all fours, face down. I saw that he had put his hood back on, hiding his face, now disfigured by anger. I knew it wasn't me he was targeting, but those who hadn't risen to the occasion.

I closed my eyes and heard a vibrating whip cracking on the ground. For several seconds, he savored my fear, growing with each blow, when suddenly the whip cruelly struck my sides.

I cried out in pain, but I also knew he enjoyed hearing my pain. A second crack of the whip struck my buttocks. He stood gloriously behind me, putting all his strength into the whip that struck me. I cried out in pain, but I also knew he enjoyed hearing my pain. A second lash of the whip struck my buttocks. He rose gloriously behind me, putting all his strength into the whip as it struck me.

The bite of the vibrating whip sank deeper this time, tearing at the thin film of sweat covering my skin.

• Do you like it?
• Oh yes, Master, your pleasure is my pleasure.
• You may use the **** to regenerate while I finish your punishment.
• Oh, thank you, Master.

His whip came down with the same cruelty and viciousness again.

Continuation:

The whip whistled through the air again, tearing at my skin with sadistic precision, each impact bringing forth a new shudder of pain that mingled strangely with the dark pleasure of obeying him. I felt the **** quiver beneath my skin, repairing the tears as they formed, but not fast enough to erase the stinging burn. Long seconds of relentless effort brought me to the brink of losing consciousness. When satisfied and calmed, he ran his gloved hand over my skin, touching my red hair, my wounds closing.

• Stop, I want to see your body marked .
• Yes, master.

My wounds stopped bleeding but remained visible, and would have made anyone who saw them like that faint, but it was my pride to serve him. I sat at his feet, head to the ground, as he sat back down on his throne. He placed his feet on my back, making me wince at the pain it induced.

His icy boots crushed harder against my bruised flesh, the leather seams biting into the still-open grooves of the vibro-whip. A muffled moan escaped my lips, my ragged breathing barely lifting my hair, which was plastered to my skin by sweat.

He gestured for a maid to clean and dry my body. He looked at my body, which was pulsing with desire for him.

• What would you do for me, Moira?
• As a master, I would tear off every inch of skin to offer it to you.
• It would be a shame, I love you like this.

He gestured for a dozen muscular clones to approach. They were young, barely mature, they had his features, and all were endowed with the emperor's impressive penis.

These clones carry my sperm. I want you to honor them as if they were me. I love to see you degraded.