A Game of Girl Catch – Part IV

Discipline

I looked down at her, kneeling at my feet. Her happiness was not false. She would mold easily into a fine pleasure slave.

“Kajira, fetch your old silks from behind you. Use your teeth to pick them up and drop them in the hearth. That life is over and it will be destroyed in this evening’s fire.”

I watched as she shifted about on her knees and bent to retrieve the scrap of silks in her teeth. Her hands were still bound with the belt of my tunic. She stood with the silks draped from her teeth, draped between her breasts to her knees, and walked over to the hearth. She paused a moment to look back over her shoulder as if to ask, “Must I, Master?” I must work on her resolve. Hesitation such as that would not be acceptable. I raised an eyebrow to assure her that it was necessary. It was enough. She turned and dropped the silks into the grate the best she could.

It is customary to give a girl a first whipping soon after she is collared to set it straight in her mind that she will be subject to the whip from this day forward. The girls’ hesitation at the hearth told me that this should be done. I do not consider myself cruel. In fact, I have been told that I am too lenient on the girls. Bosk dung! The girls I train are the most pleasing in the city. My methods include reward for obedience and discipline for disobedience.

“Talia, go to the main support column. Stand there with your belly touching the wood and your wrists raised high above your head.”

There were a number of pegs driven into that column for gear such as packs and weapons to be hung.

She approached the column slowly, sliding her hands up the aged and polished wood, pressing herself against it. I approached behind her, letting her feel my size against her.

“Have I done something wrong, Master?”

Her wrists were still bound with the belt from my tunic. I gripped her forearms firmly and lifted her, hooking the belt on one of the lower pegs. Her feet were dangling just above the floor. Her body stretched beautifully as she tried to find her footing.

“Master?”

I turned and strode to the back wall where, among other things, hung a five bladed gorean slave whip. The girl strained to see me over her shoulder and must have succeeded as I heard a gasp when I lifted the whip from its place. I turned and strode to stand a bit behind her.

“No Master! Please, Master!”

“Silence, Talia!”

She became quiet but continued to struggle. I placed the bladed end of the whip in the small of her back and pressed her against the column. She tried to pull away but could no longer move.

“Each freshly collared girl must learn that she is subject to the whip, Talia. It is the first lesson you must learn, and learn well. You will receive one lash for each letter in the word that represents what you are. Kajira. You will count each one to me. Do you understand, Talia?”

“Yes, Master.”

She had reached a resolve once she understood that it was part of her training. It was good that she knew no harm was wished on her. She would become very valuable.

I removed the whip from her back and stepped back a couple of paces, shaking the ends of the whip loose and aligning them. It would not do if one of the edges fell on her back and scarred it. The five bladed whip is capable of cutting a man down when used with sufficient force, but more commonly is only used to give a stinging reminder that one is a slave.

The girl gasped sharply as the first lash fell across her lower back and buttocks. She squirmed in silence as the pain of the sting rang through her. The lash had left five wide red marks across her that would certainly be gone by morning. I waited.

After a count of thirty-eight ihn, she finally responded with the instructed words.

“One, Master.”

The next lash was landed across the backs of her thighs with much the same reaction: a sharp gasp, followed by muscles straining to relieve the pain of the sting. It only took sixteen ihn for her to respond this time.

“Two, Master.”

The third, fourth and fifth lashes ran much the same pattern. The lash fell, placed carefully where it would not cause permanent damage; she would gasp with the initial shock and struggle with the pain; then she would acknowledge the experience with the count.

The final lash fell across her back. She gasped and tensed for a few ihn, then relaxed in relief.

“Six, Master.”

I hung the whip over my shoulder and approached her. I lifted her from the peg and lowered her to the floor where she collapsed. Instead of just lying there, she crawled to my feet and began to kiss and lick them. She trembled visually from deep within her belly. She knew she would be fully pleasing or she would be punished.

I help the whip down to my knees and commanded her, “Kiss the whip, kajira.”

She did so, and beautifully.

“You may kneel, Talia.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Hold your wrists so that I may unbind them.”

She raised her hands to me. They were a bit red, and the belt had left an abrasion, but all would be well after a day or so. I returned the belt to my tunic and looped it once, as was my fashion.

“Master, may I speak?”

I had turned to return the whip to its usual place on the back wall of the main room.

“Yes, Talia. What is it?”

“Does a kajira get whipped often, Master?”

“Only when she is found to be displeasing. Some men whip their girls regularly or for sport. I find it counter productive. Be pleasing and you will not be whipped, you will be rewarded.”

“I will do my best to please you, Master.”

She adjusted her position a bit so that her beauty was better displayed. She had learned her first lesson very well indeed. She was well on her way to being a fine pleasure slave.

– Jonrhus of Gor –