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Whipped	By : This_is_The_Phantom_Lady Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3753 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This contains major triggers for people with issues with self-harm. I do not own or profit on any official BBC Sherlock characters or any other part of BBC Sherlock.

Chapter List
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The time came before I knew it. I felt numb waiting outside her special room. The client was already inside.

Miss A. gave me a wink before she donned her dominatrix face. She straightened herself… and in she strode.

Dutifully I followed a few steps behind her.

My heart was in my throat, I nearly forgot how to breathe

There in the middle stood a miserably naked man of stocky build.

I remembered the brief and kept my eyes on him. I even tried to imagine I was somewhere else to comfort myself.

Being close to the door was a small comfort and made me handle to anxiety a lot better.

“On your knees” Her tone was harder than what I had heard before. I almost forgot she wasn’t speaking to me and was about to comply.

The man scuttled onto his knees. His hands rested in his lap, hiding his wrinkly manhood from my view. A fact I was relieved about.

His eyes caught mine. I was struggling to keep my calm. His small eyes bore into me, and it made me feel sick.

“I thought you’d like to be watched” Miss A. gestured towards me. “You like being watched, don’t you? You dirty pig” she snarled.

She sounded angry; it felt like this was more than just her job. There was more at stake I was sure.

“Yes Mistress…” his voice was breathy. Those eyes were still on me.

“Have you had unclean thoughts again?” she grabbed her riding crop and circled him. “Oh, is Mira distracting you?” she snapped, letting the crop hit his backside. He flinched; his face hardened but there was no crying out.

“Sorry Mistress” he replied emotionlessly.

“Or does she remind you of her?” Miss A. mocked him, the crop sliding over his skin.
I was trying to avoid his eyes, so mine followed the work of the leather.

“I should let you taste your own medicine” she bent down slowly towards him. “Get your filthy ass over to the caning bench”. Now he was shivering as he followed her order; staggering onto his feet.
He bent himself over a metal bench padded with black leather.

Very unceremoniously Miss A. secured the red leather shackles that was built into the structure onto his hands and thighs after having put away her trusty crop. His knees were protected by leather pads… It didn’t seem like the most uncomfortable position to be in…

She picked up a cane from her collection of implements. He gasped as he noticed that, and once again his eyes returned to me.

“Mistress, may I come with a proposal?” his voice was hushed. He should know he was in no position to bargain with her.

He didn’t pay her to be kind. Did he?

“I’m not sure you have such privileges, you filthy swine” she came closer and expertly cut through the air with the rattan cane.

It had a singing sound… making both him and I jump.

Yet another insult. She really didn’t like this man.

“Please Mistress, can she do it?” he was adjusting himself.

He sounded way too eager for my liking…

I felt all the blood rush from my head.

Please don’t make me. Please…

The cane howled on its way to its destination. His exposed buttock.

He stilled, his muscles cramped; but he refused to cry out.

“Mira is not qualified” she leaned over him “Just like her”

Like who? My head was buzzing.

“Please Mistress, Please!” he begged, quite pathetically even.

Once again the cane hit him; hard and fast. Twice.

That was his answer.

As he rode out the pain she walked over to me.

“Mira, could you help me?” she whispered.

My eyes widened in panic. I thought I would faint.

“Pretend he is one of the men who hurt you. I’ll be right here” she grabbed my wrist gently; looking directly into my eyes. “Use any anger you have” she planted the cane in my hand. “His stop word is ‘Circus’. ‘Clown’ means slow down”

I felt numb as I approached him. Miss A. had my back as she promised, standing close to me.

She held my wrist and helped me make the first attempt. I felt the feedback in my hand as the rattan hit his skin. It instantly left a red mark on his skin; though not quite as red as the 3 previous.

Miss A. let go of my hand. I was on my own now… I remembered her words and imagined he was one of those… the next hit became stronger… the next one even stronger.

I think I almost forgot he was human for a few seconds. I barely let the cane hit him before I raised my hand again.

He was cramping, his hands clenched and his feet curled.

“Good girl Mira. Show that pig what it’s like” she rooted for me.

I hadn’t noticed it, and nor had Miss A. but I had tears streaming down my face.

It was not right. It was not worth it.

With the next hit I broke the skin. My mouth fell open, Miss A. encouraged me to continue still. The man whimpered, but he hadn’t spoken a word.
As I let the cane hit him again it made a drop of his blood hit my face. I dropped the cane to the floor.

I froze completely.

Miss A. grabbed me, rubbing my arms in a comforting gesture. She put her lips to my ear.

“Run now, go shower. I’ll find you later”. She barely finished speaking before I sprinted out of there.
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