If there’s a pattern to Giles whipping me, you won’t find it staring at
my arse. Sure, by the time he’s finished, there’s a shitload of stripes
slashed into it, painted on by a steady hand...but unless he’s really
pissed, by the time he’s fucked me to take the sting away, they’ve
faded to illegibility.
No secret message either. Could be a cry for help, but if it is, I
drown it out, yelling. No. The pattern’s in what puts that crop in his
hand in the first place.
I don’t try to work it out.
I just bend over.