Chapter 3

My pulse hammered in my throat, and my fingers twitched at my sides as I took in the room.

Swings hung from the ceiling, their straps dangling like nooses. On the other side, a sling with its black leather gleamed under the dim light. Even padded benches were lined up and angled for maximum exposure, their surfaces already marked with the faintest sheen of sweat... or something else.

Whips, canes, and floggers decorated the opposite wall. Did he really use all of this? I ...