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The punishment that followed was brutal. Two sets of straight punches with alternating guard, interspaced by hooks in regular intervals, delivered experly and deeply into Baram's abs with no mercy - and no matter how much  Baram screamed, writhed or flailed her limbs, Alva did not not relent.

She was drunk on violence, body flushed with excitement. Sweat flying off her skin on every strike. Nonetheless, despite the chaos of the situation there was a method to the madness. Clear intent on every movement. Perfect control in her breathing, posture and rhythm.

If Alva could have her way, she would have gone on until Baram was no more than a bloody pulp. But it was precisely because Alva and her golem were so hyper focused on their feast of sadism that they did not see it coming.

They did not see her coming.

(To be continued.)

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