repeated this five times at long intervals, gasping for breath at each stroke, and then switched the scourge to her left hand. Now, the knotted thongs cut across the crimson welts already standing out on Kristina’s freckled skin and her breathing became ragged and interspersed with low groans of agony. Her naked body twisted and writhed, making the wicked barbs of the cilice cut into soft flesh - vividly red drops of blood fell from her groin onto the stone flags - until she