Chapter 18
Jendra
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the cane.
My bottom clenched involuntarily, already anticipating the pain I knew it would deliver.
The involuntary movement reawakened the terrible sensation of openness and exposure back there: it shouldn’t have made my tummy flip like that, after all the nudity I’d already endured, but something about having been restrained by Beta in that humiliating posture refused to subside into anything resembling normality.
“When my brothers and I first arrived in the Federation,” Beta continued, “we found much to admire in the Magisterians’ customs. But from the moment we arrived at the Guest House…”
He glanced at Sala, standing off to the side with that same kind, compassionate smile on her face, and I saw her eyes soften even further.
“The Guest House,” she explained, “is the space station where girls like me are on offer for important visitors to Magisteria. It’s where I met Beta—and, of course, where I met Alpha, too.”
“They… they caned you there?” I whispered, as a shiver went through my whole body.
Sala’s expression changed to something halfway between a grimace and an amused grin.
“Oh, yes. Often.”
I felt my breathing speed up as I turned to look at Beta, looming over me with the horrible thing in his hands, held so delicately it might have been a rose he meant to give me. In his eyes I saw what I could only call frank appreciation of the merits of the vicious punishment of misbehaving girls.
“The Magisterian use of the cane,” he continued, “quickly proved an especially effective and admirable way for dominant beings like us to teach human women the importance of submission. I have always found that it delivers a very specific kind of lesson—one that burns into the flesh and the memory alike.”
A sob escaped my throat. I was already crying, and he hadn’t even started.
Beta moved closer, crouching slightly so his face was level with mine. His blue eyes held my own with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.
“You’re going to join a long history now, Jendra,” he said softly.
“A long history of young women who have learned about their needs from the cane’s special, fiery kind of education.
Women who thought they could deny what they were, who tried to fight against their own natures.
Women who needed someone strong enough to show them the truth. ”
“Please,” I whispered, though I had no idea what I meant to ask of my new master. Mercy? Or perhaps just for him to begin, to end this terrible anticipation?
“I’m going to cane you thoroughly,” Beta said, standing and moving behind me again.
“I will mark your entire backside, from waist to knees, so that you have something very visible to remind you, and others who happen to see that part of you, that you had to learn a very difficult lesson in proper behavior. Every stroke will teach you something about yourself, both as I deliver it and as you see it in the days to come, reflected in the mirrors in the bathroom—or the ones in the bedroom. About what you need. About who you belong to now.”
I felt a deep crease develop in my forehead. The ones in the bedroom. I had never even considered that a man might have mirrors in his bedroom, the better… the better to watch himself…
The better to watch himself fuck. The obscenities unrolled in my head, in both dirty words and dirty pictures, and I couldn’t stop them. Watch himself fuck a girl’s shaven cunt, his huge, hard cock plunging in and out of her no-longer-virgin vagina.
Fuck her whipped bottom, in the tiny, wrinkly hole between the red-striped cheeks.
Fuck her whimpering little mouth.
I could feel exactly where, in the depths of my mind, the filthy images, accompanied by the crude words as if in subtitles, arose; from where they then flowed into my consciousness in a lewd, feverish torrent.
Before a few days ago I would never have admitted that place inside me existed, but since then the undeniable evidence of its presence had emerged from the void in the person of a horrible, massively endowed, energy being turned human.
Omega: Omega was precisely the kind of creature who would look at himself in the mirror as he fucked a girl, and then tell that girl…
the girl he had whipped, and then taken to the bedroom to have all her holes fucked with his huge penis…
he would command her to look at the mirror just as he did, and see what she looked like when a real man used her body for his enjoyment.
But… Beta was my master, now.
And the bedroom Beta meant, the one where he would take me, it seemed, after he whipped me…
apparently that bedroom had mirrors, like the one that had just come to distressing life in my imagination.
I had to choke down a sob as I wondered whether Beta would watch himself fuck…
whether he would order me to watch myself being fucked…
whether he would say, Look at that whipped bottom of yours take the cock, you little whore.
This is how you need to learn your lesson.
As if from kilometers away I heard him take his position, heard the whistle of the cane as he practiced his swing through the air. The sound alone made me whimper.
“Count each stroke,” he instructed. “And thank me for it.”
The first stroke landed across the center of my bottom, and I screamed. The pain was unlike anything I’d experienced—sharp, burning, intensifying even after the cane had left my flesh. It felt like a line of fire had been drawn across my skin.
“One!” I gasped through my sobs. “Thank you, Master!”
The second stroke landed just below the first, parallel to it, and I screamed again. My hands clenched into fists against the restraints.
“Two! Thank you, Master!”
Beta worked methodically, laying stripe after stripe across my bottom.
Each one felt worse than the last as the pain accumulated, building into an inferno that consumed all my thoughts.
I lost count somewhere around twelve, my mind too overwhelmed to keep track, but Beta corrected me patiently each time.
By the twentieth stroke, I had begun to sob uncontrollably, my whole body shaking. My bottom felt like it had been set ablaze, every nerve ending screaming. But underneath the agony, something else was happening. Something I didn’t want to acknowledge but couldn’t deny.
I could feel my pussy getting wet.
Each stroke of the cane, each moment of submission, each time I thanked him for my punishment—it all fed into a growing arousal that mortified me even as it intensified. My pussy clenched and released rhythmically, and I knew Beta could see it, could see exactly how my body was responding.
“Your bottom is well marked now,” Beta said, and I heard satisfaction in his voice. “Beautiful red lines that will remind you of this lesson for days. But we’re not finished yet.”
The cane whistled through the air and landed on the back of my right thigh, just below my bottom. I shrieked at the new location, the fresh pain making me buck against my restraints.
“Twenty-one! Thank you, Master!”
He striped my thighs with the same methodical precision he’d used on my bottom. Six strokes on each thigh, placed carefully to maximize the burn without causing real damage. By the time he finished, I could barely speak through my tears, could barely force out the count and thanks he required.
Then he moved to stand in front of me again, and through my blurred vision I saw him studying my face. His expression was stern but not cruel. Firm but not cold.
“Now comes the most important part,” he said quietly. “The part that will teach you the deepest lesson about what it means to be mine.”
My eyes went wide as I realized what he meant. The cunt paddle. He was going to use the cunt paddle on me. I had known it, yes, but I had managed to keep the knowledge at a distance until now.
“No,” I sobbed. “Please, Master, please, not that. I can’t… I can’t take it… Can you… can you whip me there tomorrow… maybe?”
“You will have your cunt whipped,” Beta said with absolute certainty. “Because I have decided to discipline you that way. And because you know you need it, don’t you, Jendra? You need to feel the punishment where you most deserve it. Where all your trouble began.”
He was right. Powers help me, he was right. I did need it. I needed to have my pussy punished, needed to feel that ultimate humiliation and pain in the place that had craved domination so badly I’d summoned a monster.
“Say it,” Beta commanded. “Tell me you need your cunt whipped.”
“I… I need my cunt whipped, Master,” I whispered, the words breaking me even as they freed something inside me. “Please whip my cunt. Please punish me there.”
I watched him move away, out of my sight, and then heard his footsteps behind me.
I had traveled so far into my head now that I couldn’t even tell whether I imagined the sound I thought I heard, of the cane being hung back in its place on the horrid rack—and then another, a tiny click, a soft creak, as my new master took down the worst thing of all.
My stomach clenched with renewed terror as I pictured it, the instrument of correction Sala had shown me. The cunt paddle.
My entire backside throbbed with a fierce, burning ache that seemed to pulse with each beat of my racing heart. The stripes across my bottom and thighs felt like they were still being laid down, over and over, the pain refusing to fade even slightly.
Sala appeared at my side, her gentle hands working the restraints that held me bent over the bench. “Come, Jendra,” she said softly. “Let me help you.”
My legs trembled so badly I could barely stand as she guided me upright.
The movement made the welts on my bottom and thighs burn with fresh intensity, and I whimpered at the sensation.
Sala steadied me, her arm around my waist, as she helped me turn and then carefully lie back on the bench before I could understand what that new posture might mean.
My punished bottom pressed against the smooth, hard slats of the bench’s top, sending jolts of pain through me that made me gasp.
Sala arranged me with evident skill, as if she had done this for countless misbehaving concubines.
She positioned my shoulders on the bench so that my head hung off one end and my bottom extended just past the other.
I could see Beta. He had turned from the rack to watch Sala place me on my back.
My whole body shook as I stared up at my master’s hulking, approaching body.
He held the broad leather paddle almost casually in his enormous hand.
The triangular blade looked even more terrifying from this angle, and I couldn’t stop trying to imagine how it would feel striking my most intimate flesh.
“Raise your knees,” Beta commanded, his voice firm but not harsh. “Bring them up and hold them open for me.”
A sob tore from my throat as I understood just how open, how exposed, how vulnerable obeying the command would make me. I felt my head shaking, but at the same time I felt my body honoring the terrible vow I had made.
My legs lifted, trembling violently, and my hands moved to grip behind my knees.
I pulled them apart, spreading myself completely open before him.
The position was mortifying beyond anything I’d ever experienced—even worse than when Omega had made me display myself, because I had chosen obedience.
I was offering myself for this atrocious punishment.
Beta moved to stand between my parted thighs, and I found myself looking up at him through the valley created by my raised knees. His blue eyes met mine over the tender, shaven flesh of my pussy, and I saw something in his gaze that made my breath catch despite my terror.
Not cruelty. Not even mere satisfaction at my submission. Something deeper. Something that looked almost like… affection?
“Do you understand why we’re here, Jendra?” he asked, his voice taking on that instructional tone again. “Why a young woman like you must sometimes have her cunt whipped?”