She looked over her shoulder, straining to see her own back in mirror. “Are there any marks? Any redness left at all?”
She turned her head away from the reflection, was silent for a time. The air was cool against her bare skin, replacing the vague warmth that had itself replaced the sharp sting. Eventually she reached around to slowly zip up the dress.
“May I ask…”
“Why do you let him whip you like that? Even though he leaves no marks? Why do—”
“I don’t let him do it, Sophie; I make him do it.”