This six-chapter adventure for W began when a mysterious painted lady emerged from his lake. Her plea forces W to come out of retirement and judge a very kinky contest at the Decennial Competition of Masters and Slaves of the Greater East Coast BDSM Association. This fifth chapter is a demonstration of a Master's and Mistress's punishment skills.
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
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Chapter Five - Punishment
I was making some notes to myself about recommending a choreographer to Mistress Katrina when the lights came back up. GrandMaster Karl was again standing in the middle of the presentation area. The young woman in the bright white microkini was again standing to his left. The beefcake in the bulging black Speedo was again on his right. Both had their white foam posterboards ready to display.
One poster said: 9.0, 8.3, 8.5, 9.5, 7.5. I knew the 8.5 was my score, which put it in the middle for the judging. There was a line drawn under the numbers, and a larger number, 8.56, was written near the bottom. The other poster said: 8.0, 8.2, 7.0, 7.5, 8.2. It, too, had a line drawn under the numbers and a larger number written near the bottom. Again, I was fairly sure that the 8.0 was mine. It was again in the middle, which I took as a compliment to my judging ability. The number on this poster was 7.78.
“Masters and Mistresses, Messieurs and Doms, Neutrals and Guests,” GrandMaster Karl began, “I think that both of our Mistresses presented impressive demonstrations of skill. But apparently our judges felt that the level of showmanship of their presentations was not quite as impressive as the high level of training skill demonstrated.” He paused and continued in a slightly softer voice, “So, our numbers are slightly lower.”
Then he pointed to the two posters and said firmly, “But these are still impressive numbers.” He paused for just a moment and then said dramatically, “And our winner is...” Again, he held a long pause before loudly declaring, “Mistress Tia!”
As he spoke, both posters were flipped over. One said: “Mistress Tia 8.56.” The other said: “Mistress Katrina 7.78.” Both Mistresses walked out to join GrandMaster Karl. They bowed to the audience, and then Mistress Katrina bowed slightly to Mistress Tia and stepped back to stand with the poster bearers as GrandMaster Karl handed Mistress Tia a small brass trophy declaring her the winner of the contest. After a rather long round of applause, she and Mistress Katrina, accompanied by the poster bearers, walked out of the presentation area.
“And now,” GrandMaster Karl said loudly, “we move to our final judged category: Punishment. This is a much more subjective area to judge. Master Wilhelm and Mistress Jasmine will each be punishing a male and a female slave. All four slaves have severely disappointed their Masters or Mistresses and have agreed to this public punishment as an alternative to their Master or Mistress terminating their relationship. The male slaves will be punished with a light cane. The female slaves will be punished with a light paddle. Each will receive twelve strokes, with the Mistress and Master alternating their swings.”
He laughed slightly and continued, “Of course, even a light cane or paddle can be severe punishment in the hands of a Master or Mistress who really knows how to wield it. So, all four slaves will have the option of crying ‘Mercy!’ if the punishment becomes more than they can bear. If it is deemed that the cry of mercy was warranted, there will be no further punishment of that slave either here or later by his or her Master or Mistress. If the cry of mercy is deemed unwarranted, the caning or paddling will continue.”
Four completely naked slaves were led into the center of the presentation area. Four punishment barrels awaited them. A punishment barrel looks like a picket fence rolled around a barrel top and bottom. The result is slats of wood about four centimeters wide that are spaced about two centimeters apart almost all the way around the barrel. On each barrel, two slats are left off, and there is an empty space of about twelve to fourteen centimeters. If a female is being punished, the empty space is left at the bottom. If it is a male, the empty space is usually rotated up until it allows for his prick and balls to hang through the space without being crushed by his body weight. I personally think that a well-padded punishment bench works much better and bends the body more completely to expose the rosebud and cunt or base of the ball sack. But the punishment barrel looks much more uncomfortable– it’s not– and thus some prefer it for public punishments.
The male slaves were strapped in place first. A rather muscular man dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt set a small step stool in front of one of the barrels. The male slave was ordered to stand on it and lean over the slats. Restraint cuffs were firmly fastened over his wrists, and his arms were pulled down and tied to ropes attached to the frame holding the barrel. Then the barrel was rotated slightly, and the ropes were tightened further. The slave’s feet were now hanging in the air. The man in black came around to the other side of the barrel and attached restraint cuffs on the slave’s ankles. The ropes for those restraints were attached to the outer corners of the back of the frame so that the slave’s legs were spread slightly. The man then went around and re-tightened all four of the restraint ropes.
After the man stepped back and checked that everything was correct, including that the slave’s balls were inside the barrel, he moved to the next male slave. It took about ten minutes to put all four slaves in place. It would have been much faster to have four assistants put the slaves in place, but this was a contest between a Master and a Mistress, and fairness– or at least the appearance of fairness– dictated that the same person put all four slaves in place on the punishment barrels. Besides, the waiting is part of the punishment, especially for the females who have to wait and listen while the males are punished.
Finally, the man stepped forward and gestured with his arm to present the slaves to Master Wilhelm and Mistress Jasmine. Both stepped forward and carefully examined the two slaves that they were supposed to punish. After a thorough examination, both nodded to GrandMaster Karl and stepped back to a small table on which sat two very light canes and two rather lightweight flexible leather paddles about ten centimeters wide and thirty centimeters long, not counting the handle. The canes were natural wood with their handles wrapped in natural leather. The paddles were shiny black leather with handles wrapped in rough black leather.
GrandMaster Karl stepped forward and spread a deck of cards in his hands. Actually, it was only thirteen cards, all Spades. That way there could not be a tie. Master Wilhelm drew out a seven of Spades. Mistress Jasmine drew a jack. “Mistress Jasmine has the choice,” the GrandMaster said loudly.
She answered, “I will go second.”
GrandMaster Karl– and most of the crowd– were stunned by her choice. There were many reasons to go first, not because it was harder on the slave, but because it put you first in the judge’s mind, and punishment is a very subjective thing to judge.
“Master Wilhelm,” GrandMaster Karl said firmly, “will deliver the first blow.
Master Wilhelm stood slightly to the left of the male slave whose ass was prominently displayed as he was draped over one of the punishment barrels. The Master drew his arm back fully and then snapped the light and whippy cane into the slave’s ass with a sound like a rifle shot. The slave grunted and squirmed, but easily endured the blow.
Mistress Jasmine stood slightly to her slave’s right. She was left-handed. She took a very deep breath and slowly released it as she swung the cane. There was a loud “Snap!” as it struck, but the sound was nowhere near as loud as what Master Wilhelm had created. The slave grunted slightly, but did not squirm or thrash. There was a significant amount of murmuring from the people seated at the tables. They obviously were disappointed in the Mistress’s showing.
The second round of blows was the same, as was the third... and the fourth... and the fifth... and the sixth... and the seventh. Each time Master Wilhelm would deliver a tremendous strike with the cane. His slave’s ass was now swollen and turning purple. Mistress Jasmine’s slave, however, barely showed the marks of his beating.
It was on the tenth stroke that the slave broke. To the amazement of almost everyone, it was not Master Wilhelm’s slave who broke. It was Mistress Jasmine’s slave.
I, and apparently two of the other judges, had expected this. I was watching carefully and could see that each stroke of the cane from Mistress Jasmine exactly overlaid the previous stroke. Master Wilhelm had turned his slave’s ass purple, but Mistress Jasmine had created a single line of pain and punishment that was unbearable. The slave was still whimpering, “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy,” when GrandMaster Karl stepped forward to inspect the damage. An assistant stood next to him with a video camera which put an image of the slave’s ass up on the big screen in the venue as well as on all five of the judges’ private screens. There was a deep, bruised and bloody groove across both asscheeks.
“The cry of mercy was warranted,” said GrandMaster Karl firmly. “We will move to the paddles.”
Because Master Wilhelm went first for the male slaves, Mistress Jasmine was first with the female. She stood to the female slave’s left and held the paddle in her right hand. She swung her arm and snapped her wrist to deliver the sharpest blow, but something went wrong. There was a no “thwack” as the paddle struck. Instead, there was just a sharp “snap!” The slave yelped, but it was more of a yelp of surprise than pain.
Again, there was a lot of murmuring from the crowd. The Mistress could definitely wield a cane, but switching to her right hand with the paddle had evidently been a mistake. When Master Wilhelm’s swing of the paddle gave the expected, loud, “thwack!” on impact, many in the crowd nodded in approval.
For the second stroke, Mistress Jasmine stood to the slave’s right and switched the paddle to her left hand. Maybe sticking with her dominant hand, she could make up what she had lost using her right hand. She swung her left arm and snapped her wrist at just the right time, but again there was no “thwack” of the leather hitting ass flesh. Instead, like with her right hand, there was just a sharp “snap!” The slave yelped, but again it was more of a yelp of surprise than pain.
Master Wilhelm had a crooked smile on his face as he stepped up to deliver his second blow. He drew his arm more than fully back and twisted his shoulder into the swing to increase the speed and power. There was a mighty “thwack” immediately followed by a high-pitched scream. The naked female slave bounced and thrashed in her restraints for several seconds before going limp and lying there crying.
As the contest went on, everyone was waiting for Master Wilhelm’s slave to break. She was wailing and crying after each blow and then whimpering between strikes. Mistress Jasmine’s slave, on the other hand, was yelping with each blow but otherwise was rather composed for a slave enduring punishment. Then came the tenth blow. Mistress Jasmine stood to the slave’s right with the paddle in her left hand. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Then she swung with all of her strength.
This time there was no “snap.” There was a resounding “thwack!” which was almost immediately followed by a shrill scream and a loud cry of “Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!”
GrandMaster Karl looked confused. So did most of the audience. Actually, probably so did I. That was a hard blow, but it was nowhere near hard enough to break a slave. Grandmaster Karl stepped forward to investigate. The video camera went with him. There was an obvious look of surprise on his face as he examined the slave’s ass. Mistress Jasmine’s first nine strokes did not hit the slave’s ass cheeks. At least they did not hit the globes of the ass. Instead, the tip of the paddle had reached inside the slave’s ass crack and struck the base of the ass globe. The individual strikes were not severe enough to cause great pain, but the accumulation of the nine strokes caused swelling and tenderness so that when the paddle struck with great power on the meat of the ass, the pain was unbearable. And thus, the slave cried out, “Mercy!” And GrandMaster Karl, after he had shrugged his shoulders and taken a deep breath, proclaimed, “The cry of mercy was warranted.” He then looked over at the judge’s table and said, “We still need a decision from the judges.”
I gave Mistress Jasmine a 10, which was 5 for skill and 5 for showmanship. But I gave Master Wilhelm a 9.5, which was 5 for skill and 4.5 for showmanship. Like the GrandMaster said, it is a very subjective category to judge.