sp3ktr

"Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather, Whiplash girl child in the dark Comes in bells, your servant, don't forsake him Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart... " crackles out of the bakelite encased radio surrounded by damp concrete walls, he is on his knees on the sodden floor, mashing wet pallmall butts into his knees. The terrified grin erupts into a masque of pure pleasure when he tastes the whip