Wanda swung the whip, and hit me twice. “Are you satisfied now?”
“No.”
“Seriously, no?”
“Whip me, I beg you, it is a joy to me.”
“Yes, because you know very well that it isn’t serious,” she replied, “because I haven’t the heart to hurt you. This brutal game goes against my grain. Were I really the woman who beats her slaves you would be horrified.”
“No, Wanda,” I replied, “I love you more than myself; I am devoted to you for death and life. In all seriousness, you can do with me whatever you will, whatever your caprice suggests.”
“Severin!”
“Tread me underfoot!” I exclaimed, and flung myself face to the floor before her.
“I hate all this play-acting,” said Wanda impatiently.
“Well, then maltreat me seriously.”