What are little boys made of?
"Snips and snails and puppy dog's tails
That's what little boys are made of!"
What are little girls made of?
"Sugar and spice and all things nice
That's what little girls are made of!"
But what am I made of, Mother…?
The whip sliced through the air and broke violently across his fragile back, leaving a gruesome wound on the pale flesh. No cry attested to the pain this caused. He didn't even flinch as the whip came down again, crisscrossing older wounds on his already marred back.
It was such a relief to let the whip tear his flesh with teeth already stained crimson. Such a relief to feel the burning pain that erupted with each slash. It wasn't that he enjoyed the pain; he found no delight in having the Cardmaster laughing quietly behind him as the whip snapped towards him once more.