carnevol: I was hurting him. I could feel it. The sheer judder of the whip coursing up my arm, exploding into my heart… but the boy would not beg for mercy.
carnevol: I was hurting him. I could feel it. The sheer judder of the whip coursing up my arm, exploding into my heart… but the boy would not beg for mercy.
carnevol: I was hurting him. I could feel it. The sheer judder of the whip coursing up my arm, exploding into my heart… but the boy would not beg for mercy.
carnevol: I was hurting him. I could feel it. The sheer judder of the whip coursing up my arm, exploding into my heart… but the boy would not beg for mercy.
carnevol: I was hurting him. I could feel it. The sheer judder of the whip coursing up my arm, exploding into my heart… but the boy would not beg for mercy.
carnevol: I was hurting him. I could feel it. The sheer judder of the whip coursing up my arm, exploding into my heart… but the boy would not beg for mercy.
