“Mask, helmet.” He ordered.The armored headgear reappeared.“This is great!” He gushed. “Mask, no helmet.”“My sister, Typhon informed me ...hat you have been seen in the company of a Technomancer.” Kyet’sol inquired. “Is this true?”John hesitated. “Yeah, she’s a friend of mine. Why?”“She might find your helm of interest.” The dragon replied innocently.I’ll make a note of it. He snarked silently.What are you wearing? Duin asked excitedly.A new helmet. John answered. Do you like it?It carries no. He cried out in pain as she whipped his lower back. "Mistress.." he said, as she grabbed a whip with a small spikes on the end of the strips. She whipped him hard, drawing blood. Sam squirmed, feeling the sting of the thin strips slap against his bare flesh. The whip wrapped around to his stomach eliciting a sharp cry of pain from his throat. He yanked his hands, forgetting they were cuffed up. "Stop fighting!" his Mistress commanded, slapping his face again. . More

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