"No, no cane... " he sobbed, his voice so weak it was almost inaudible. "Please... use your hand... use your hand for the remaining five strokes..."

Aston's movements halted. The vampire raised his eyebrows with interest, clearly not expecting such a request.

"With your hands?" he repeated, a hint of subtle sarcasm in his tone. "Do you think it'll be easier that way?"

Isaiah nodded eagerly, "Please... I can't stand the cane anymore..."

His voice carried a desperate plea. He knew that compared to actually causing him pain, Aston preferred to see him begging for mercy.

If it could make him feel good, Aston might not really insist on torturing him to death.

The air in the secret room seemed to freeze for a few seconds.

Aston suddenly burst into laughter, and that laugh sent a chill down Isaiah's spine.

"Ten times," he said, seeing the angel's eyes widen in terror, a smile instead curved at the corner of his lips, "Since you're so creative, double it. But —"

His hand caressed Isaiah's burning buttocks. "I promise you, with my hands only."

Isaiah bit his lip, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. Ten slaps were indeed much better than five strokes of the cane, but he wasn't sure how hard Aston would hit. It was a gamble, but under the current circumstances, it was his best option.

Aston hummed contentedly and slowly rolled up the sleeve of his right arm, revealing a muscular forearm. His hands were large, with thick calluses on the palms. He flexed his knuckles, making a slight clicking sound that made Isaiah flinch involuntarily.

"Relax," Aston said, pressing his left hand against Isaiah's lower back and half-hugging the angel into his arms. "It'll hurt more otherwise."

The first blow landed on the highest point of the buttocks, which was already swollen and shiny, with purple and blue marks all over the skin. Aston clearly showed no mercy. The moment his palm made contact with the skin, there was a crisp "slap" sound.

Isaiah let out a stifled sob, his fingers tightly gripping the edge of the torture rack, his knuckles turning white.

"One." This time, Aston didn't let Isaiah count and spoke out himself.

The second kick overlapped the first one's position. Isaiah's leg suddenly kicked out, and a painful moan overflowed from his throat.

Two.

The third strike landed just below the right buttock, where the injury was relatively minor. Aston had held back a bit.

Isaiah was shaking violently, sweat sliding down his back. He could feel his buttocks jiggling with each strike, and the swollen skin was burning with pain.

Three.

The fourth and fifth blows landed in quick succession on his left buttock, so fast that Isaiah didn't even have time to adjust his breathing. He let out a sharp cry and his tears broke free once more.

"Whoo!" The angel's voice was completely cracked.

Aston paused for a moment and soothingly stroked the angel's damp, golden hair that hung in strands.

"Halfway there." His voice softened a little. "Just hold on a bit longer."

The sixth strike was a little lighter than the previous ones, but still forceful enough to make Isaiah tremble in pain. The temperature of Aston's palm seemed to have risen a bit compared to before, and each touch conveyed a scorching pain.

Seven.

Aston's blow landed right on the most tender spot where the buttocks and thighs meet. Isaiah let out a heart-wrenching scream and struggled violently, but was firmly held in place by the torture rack, with no escape.

For the last three strikes, Aston lightened his force and lengthened the intervals, as if rewarding the angel for holding on until now.

When the last blow fell, Isaiah was crying so hard that he was almost exhausted, his body hanging limply from the cross, with only faint sobs remaining.

"Ten," Aston announced calmly, gently stroking the angel's hot and swollen buttocks. "It's over."

The vampire unlocked the chains and carefully held the limp angel in his arms. Isaiah's wet cheeks were pressed against his neck, sobbing. His hot bottom was suspended in the air, not daring to touch any place. His trembling knees were curled up in the other's arms.

"Shh... This is the last toy. You can rest after you're done with it. " Aston gently wiped away the tears that had frozen on the angel's eyelashes with his fingertip and wiped his tears. "Would you like to choose for yourself?"

Isaiah was coaxed into a daze. Through teary eyes, the angel saw Aston calmly unfold a row of cold, gleaming instruments.

"Choose, Isaiah," Aston said, holding the angel horizontally. "Pick your favorite."

Isaiah's gaze wandered among those utensils, his puffy eyes, swollen from tears, could hardly make out anything. Eventually, his trembling fingertip tapped the box on the far left.

Those were a pair of clips set with rubies and a set of jade beads carved with intricate patterns.

"It's really a surprising choice," Aston chuckled. His chest was pressed against Isaiah's bare back, and Isaiah could feel the vibrations as he spoke. "I thought you'd pick something milder."

The vampire lowered his head and kissed away the teardrop that was about to fall from the angel's eyelash. "I hope you don't faint from the pain later."

Aston placed Isaiah on another velvet-covered couch.

The angel's body was covered with scars. Even lying on the soft couch, she still trembled with pain. Aston's fingers stroked the angel's quivering body. His fingertips dipped into a little of the lustrous ointment and gently spread it on the two small dogwood berries.