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Sister Dee loves her fresh scorpion but Emily is not so much of a fan. It’s faux leather, like a whip, then running down into a softer leather tongue, like a dragon tail. It is an insidious little tool that has Emily yelling at the top of her lungs early and often. The pain isn’t something she loves, but when taking it signifies earning SD happy she is more than willing. For SD her shouts are almost as much of a pleasure since the torments that evoke them. Having a young, pretty woman crying on her floor, begging for mercy, is the top point of almost any night.
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