This is probably a sly way for the writer, Dean Young, to refer to the older strip by his father Chic Young. I like to think so, anyway.
"She doesn't really have a verbal whip."
Or did he forget she was wearing breeches?
"I knew you were smart as a whip, m'dear."
"She doesn't strike me as competent."
But his remark smacked of insincerity...
Too bad it didn't hit him and only landed at his feet.
"If you wanted to hit me, luv, a slap would have been more in line, don't you think?"
...if she didn't have him to browbeat and try to whip into shape, he was sure she would flounder.
Her petticoat was lifted out of the way, her drawers tossed aside, and suddenly she had more heat than she bargained for...
"Did I tie a gag over your mouth?"
He was twirling her drawers about on his finger.
He felt a twinge of discomfort...
"And keep your eyes off my arse!"
It wasn't anger that brought tears to her eyes.
"This isn't a good time to test my patience."
He did it curtly, as if he were completing a task assigned to him, which gave her the odd feeling that he was punishing her.
He didn't want to stand that bloody high on his toes!
"It gives her purpose, to think she still needs to whip me into shape."
"Uppity wench."
She only grew thorns when he picked her petals.
"Never live your fantasies. Keep them up here" - Alberton tapped his head - "always out of reach."
"You were sitting here earlier tonight thinking of me with my breeches off."
Lilly winced at the pain...
"Will you please forgive me?"