He waited his time. Stood with his strap dangling from his hand. Loose, relaxed, watching. Honoured to represent the tribe, honoured to fulfil the gods will. He held his head high, proud. Powerful chest high, aware of the figure he was cutting to his people. Lightly holding the handle to his weapon .. yet aware of the strength in his broad shoulders that soon he’d release upon the offender.
He let his partner strike the offender another three times before he wound himself up and struck out. That hit had ambushed the swine. Hit from behind, hit on his burning arse. Shocked, his body had been thrown forward by the force. He had turned rigid, trembling. Then the pain had found its way out. Thrown out by a sharp cry torn out of his chest.
Three strikes now. Burning the agony from his arse .. igniting the wrath of the gods inside. He’d be on fire. He had the gods’ fires deep inside his guts. That viscous grease rammed up his inside. Burning him away. He let the offender have his best.
With each hit on his bare arse, with every lurch off the pain, the gods ignited their anger. Pain on his bare backside transfused into searing agonies. The gods’ fury at his offence .. delivered to eat him up from the inside. In time they would finally pronounce on his end. For now they deamnded revenge. Consuming him with their anger. Eating him up with fiery rage.
The pain from that third strike on the swine’s bare arse had thrown him upright. Grabbing at the overhead ropes. Pulling himself up .. as if to escape .. as if to pull himself aware from the gods’ fire in his guts. Desperation pulling him away. His whole body taut with the gods’ wrath. Shoulders broad with effort. His belly stretched with the strain. But there WAS no escaping.
He proved it. Whip-arm snaking back, muscular torso torqued. He let go with all his shredded might. Slam across the stretched belly. Thwacked into etched straining muscle. Biting the gods’ fury out of ripped stretched muscle.
And to show the swine his helplessness, he pulled back. He yanked back the leather off the agonised belly muscle. Scoring a deep line of searing pain and vicious leather ripped off the offender’s belly. Like a sharp knife tearing a path across defined muscular flesh. He screamed. The gods’ fury heard the swine scream.
Korak loss trace of time. Or the number of times he’d been struck. Oblivious. To all except the overriding pains racking his body. Lost to everything except an insane need to escape. Unrealistic. Condemned to suffering. This was a place from which he’d never break free. Prisoner of the gods he’d offended. Pain-slave to this tribe who were guardians of the gods’ rights.
That first strike across his midriff …. his eyes nearly exploded out of his head. An intense electrical sting. Sizzling across his waist. Mind-blowing shock that felt like he’d been cut in half.
An unstoppable scream of pain blended with intense shock. He wriggled, he writhed. Like an animal caught in a trap, he fought to break free. All instinct. All desperation. Screaming from body-shattering pain .. his chest, innards and his backside .. they all felt like they were being shredded by the metal barbs.
On fire. And every move only seemed to renew the intense pain in his guts and arse. Yet his body knew it had to escape. It had to get away. The animal in his head shrieked to break free. An animal fatally wounded, a beast inescapably held in a trap. Yet Korak would gnaw off a limb to break free.