Chapter 302: The Whip of Sodom

Chapter 302: The Whip of Sodom

The headless corpse of the gazellekin slumped over its decapitator. More blood pumped out of the burst neck, covering Number Forty’s upper body in a warm coat.

The spectators all around the round arena platform cheered louder and louder with each consecutive kill, the complete opposite of the announcer who maskpalmed with both hands, appalled by the utter incompetence of the volunteer group she had such high hopes for.

“Finally, some good action!”

“She might just pull this off!”

“If that little grandpa's daughter or whatever gets through this, she’ll probably win the whole thing!”

“What are those explosions she’s creating?”

“Who knows!? Keep ‘em coming!”

Lilith pushed the dead body of the gazellekin off herself and rose to her feet but before she could take another step, a leather rope wrapped around her arms and blood-covered naked chest. It made several loops around, pressing the girl’s arms to her sides until the engorged tip of the rope slapped the girl hard through the previous layer of rope where precisely where her right nipple was.

“Ah!” Number Forty winced from the sharp—but not unbearable—pain. She turned her head back and saw that the rope that bound her breasts was in fact a whip, tense along all its length of over fifty feet, the handle of which was held by the furry, tiger-like beastkin that burned her dress, Number Fifty-eight.

In his right hand, the tigerkin tightly gripped the handle of whip, in his left—a massive metal shield with a protruding metal head of a menacing bull with large horns and a nose ring decorating the shield’s surface. The beastkin grinned and bent his elbow, pulling the girl just a little bit closer to him, showing off his power over her.

“Ha! About time someone put her in her place!” Some spectators cheered at the turn of fortune for the struggling girl.

“Fuck! Seriously!? After all that!?” others were disappointed.

“Come on! Don’t fail me now!” a beastkin girl screamed with a crumpled piece of paper in her hand.

But a good portion of the spectators looked at each other in confusion at the particular choice of targets and the pinpoint precision of the Number Fifty-eight’s whip.

“Maybe he was just lucky?”

“Maybe she’s the lucky one? Hehehe!”

“Shouldn’t her ear be torn in half by such a strong hit of a whip?”

“Maybe it was? Can’t tell with all the blood the painted herself in!”

Even the tigerkin himself looked at the handle of the whip in his furry fist with bewilderment.

“The Whip of Sodom is no ordinary whip you see!” the announcer explained with the growing excitement of a spoiled child during Christmas. “It is designed to hit only the erogenous zones of its target! With enough force to stimulate but never to destroy!”L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.