30 lashings. The words hung in the air like a grim omen, filling every corner of the room with dark foreboding. Meiza was staring at her, his eyes shining with anticipation as if he could hardly wait for the opportunity to exact this cruel punishment.
As he tightened his grip on the knife, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She knew what he could do, and the thought of being at his mercy was terrifying.
"Do you know what I'm going to do now?" he asked in a voice so soft and gentle that it almost fooled her into thinking he was sincere. But she knew better; she knew better than to trust him or to underestimate his cruelty.
She tried to speak, but her throat was dry, and her voice caught in her throat. She shook her head, trying to will herself into a calm state. But the fear and uncertainty were crushing her, like a weight on her chest that she couldn't escape.
"I'll let you guess," he teased, his voice dripping with delight. "But if you're wrong, it'll be 30 more lashings on top of it." He leaned in closer, his breath hot on her face. "Do you want to take the chance?"
Her heart pounded, fear flooding her body like ice-cold water. She knew what came next. She had heard of the punishments he was capable of, how he took pleasure in inflicting pain and humiliation upon those who displeased him.
[Y/N] felt tears sting her eyes, and she bit her lip to keep from trembling. "N-no," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry with fear. She felt her limbs go weak, knowing she had to steel herself to face whatever punishment was coming next. But at the same time, she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread and uncertainty, a feeling that she had no idea what was coming next and that it could be far worse than anything she had anticipated.
She sensed the pressure of his hand on her face, the sharp edge of the knife pressed against her skin.
The fear was almost overwhelming, her heart pounding as she looked up at him.
His smile was frigid and senseless, and she couldn't help but feel he was enjoying her trepidation.
"What- what are you going to do now?" she whispered, her voice sounding tiny and tinny in her ears. She can feel her hands trembling as they grip the side of the table, her mind racing as she tries to think of a way out.
But she knew that there was no way out, not after her pathetic attempt to escape. For Meiza was holding all the power here, and there was simply nothing she could do to stop him.
[Y/N] knew that she was at his mercy and that that was the most terrifying thing.
With a tight grasp on her wrist, he hauled her towards the wall and pressed her against it. She trembled as he leaned in close, his eyes burning into her own.
"Stay still," he growled, his voice low and menacing.
She tried to pull away, but he was too strong. She was trapped, helpless in his grasp.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and her breath caught in her throat. She was utterly at his mercy, and she knew that one wrong move could cost her everything. She was at the mercy of a man who knew no mercy and seemed to revel in her fear.
"You'll see," he repeated, his voice low and hoarse.
30 Lashings
The words hung like a curse, chilling down [Y/N's] spine. She had heard the stories of servants who were given 30 lashes as punishment for their mistakes, but she had never thought it would happen to her.
She could feel the sweat on her forehead as she stood there, trapped against the wall by her master's firm grip. His eyes were piercing as he looked down at her, and his smile was like a shark's. He was enjoying her fear. She knew it.
"I...I don't know what you're going to do." Her voice was trembling, and she could feel the tears welling in her eyes. But she knew better than to let them fall. She couldn't give him the satisfaction.
But he seemed to derive pleasure from her fear, and his grip on her wrist only tightened. "Stay still," he commanded, his tone low and cold.
She tried to breathe, but her chest felt tight. She knew whatever he would do to her would be painful, but she had no idea how much pain she was in for. She could only wait and pray for mercy, but she knew none could be found in that house.
Finally, he released her wrist, and she collapsed to the floor in relief. But that was only temporary. She watched, trembling, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small whip. Her heart sank. It was the instrument of torture she had feared, the device that would inflict so much pain on her.
And with a twist of his wrist, he swung the whip through the air, and she felt a sharp pain in her back. She felt the pain from the first few strikes, and she tried to remain silent and still. But with each lash, she felt her resolve crumbling, and eventually, she was reduced to tears and sobs.
Again and again, he struck, each lash leaving a burning mark on her skin. Despite her pleas, he continued to lash her, making her scream and thrash about helplessly. As [Y/N] lay bleeding and broken on the ground, he looked down at her with cold indifference.
He said nothing, but his eyes spoke volumes. He would not stop until she was utterly ruined and he had extracted his pound of flesh. But it wasn't just the physical pain he was inflicting; it was the emotional and psychological toll that would stay with her for the rest of her days. He was breaking her body and soul, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
Her vision blurred as the pain radiated through her body, and it felt like she was falling through some endless abyss. She knew she should be afraid, should be screaming for mercy, but even that seemed beyond her grasp. All she could do was lie there, trembling with each breath, and wait for the torment to end.
She felt a sense of hopelessness wash over her, and she wondered how long she could endure this torture before her body gave out altogether. She knew that she was vulnerable, that her life was at the mercy of a cruel and uncaring master. And yet, she found herself craving the pain, longing for the release that only death could bring.
With a final strike, he dropped the whip to the ground, leaving her huddled on the floor, her tears streaming down her face. For a moment, she thought he might leave her to suffer in silence, but then he spoke, his voice a low whisper that seemed to echo in her ears.
"This is just a taste of what awaits you if you fail me again," he said, his eyes darkening with each words. "Know that I can make your life a living hell."
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her pain and her fear. And she knew that, even when the pain subsided, the fear would remain, haunting her with every turn of her head, every shift of her gaze, for as long as she remained in the service of this cruel master.
As he turned to leave, she heard him mutter, "You should be grateful for the lesson." And with those words, he left her a broken, battered shell of a woman lying on the floor, her back wracked with agony.
He had given her a taste of the pain that would be her lot, and she knew more would come.
A/N :- he makes me wanna cry
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Pathetic little Fool - Yandere Noble x Female Reader
Short Story[Completed!] [Yandere Noble x Reader] [Yandere Prince x Y/N] The young maid tried to explain what had happened, but all that came out from her mouth was words that was garbled and flubbed, jumbled and desperate. "My Lie-" but Meiza interrupted, his...
