|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Jul 29, 2008 8:36 pm
"I'm used to various receptions when people learn of my house," he said calmly. "I have to say, though, that if she means Faertana, and voices her opinions in her presence, Tana will flay her alive. She's quite good at that."
His sister, Tana, was the source of a number of his nastier scars. Everyone in Baen'duis who was permitted to wield a lash tried to develop a unique style within the already distinctive style of their house. Shri's ability was to mix pain and pleasure so much that a person couldn't tell one from the other. His cousin, Malree, preferred to make patterns with the stripes from her strikes. Tana prided herself on her ability to practically shear off a person's skin in sheets. Fortunately, Val had rarely been subject to her attentions, or else he might have had a lot more scar tissue.
Being Drow, Val had grown up familiar with entendre. His relationship with his sister had made his gift for detecting hidden meanings somewhat impressive, however, very limited in scope. In other words, he could really only tell for sure when Shrisin meant when she said one thing while meaning something else. With most others, he either tried not to think about it or played dumb, even if he understood. He wasn't expected to be clever as a male, and it was actually easier to avoid arbitrary punishment by pretending to be simple than by seeming intelligent. Besides, he wasn't that intelligent anyway. But he did sense that Shrilyn meant more than that she went to repair her arrows at night, and considering what they had been discussing moments earlier, it wasn't too difficult to guess what she meant.
"Should I accompany you?" he asked solicitously. "It's the night before a restday, and I know for a fact some of the male students begin their carousing early. You might not want to run into them alone while they're in an inebriated state. Their judgment would be impaired, and they might try something stupid."
He was certain she could handle herself in such a situation, but it was the only feasible excuse he could come up with for his presence on short notice. He wasn't particularly devious or clever, after all.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 03, 2008 2:01 pm
He was quick in his understanding of her hidden suggestion, but then again they had only recently changed subjects. Shrilyn gave him credit for it anyway as he had only just asked. This would definately be an interesting night. She had come here to as punishment for her mishaps during training, now she would recieve a real punishment and learn of another house.
"Perhaps you should. If anything you can keep them from losing thier freedom for the restday when I beat them down." Shrilyn was rather vicious when confronted and her sister archers knew it. More than a few of them had challenged her abilities or out right insulted her and they all ended up with more than a few scars. Most were temporarily paralyzed when she attacked hand to hand, pressure points being her main study. As an archer, she was very accurate with that brand of fighting.
The cream haired female walked in the direction of the fletching house, a small building on the far side of the archer field. It was one of the more secluded buildings, all the rest being punishment houses. The small candles that burned on the outside had burned down to the base so Shrilyn replaced them and opened the door. The inside held a few benches, a pile of wood, rows of twine, and some barewall space that held the marks of test arrows.
She left it open as she placed her arrows on the work bench she had adopted as her own. Almost every archer hand their own bench, not always in the fletching house, because they each used different materials. On her bench was a jar of jet black feathers and a small box with her house's insignia on it. Inside were the arrow tips specially designed by her younger brother. He was the only male she had ever defended in her house and kept him as safe as possible. She wondered for his future if her plans were to come to fruition.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2008 7:38 am
"That's very kind of you, to be so concerned for their well-being," Val remarked dryly as he followed her, keeping a few paces behind her.
He was keeping a watch around them for others, but not because he expected to come across carousing classmates of his. Even Sorn and Adin didn't start this early. There could be trouble, however, if they did run into someone, particularly an instructor or one of Shrilyn's classmates. They were not sweet and understanding about things like males wielding whips against females. They probably couldn't care less if Shrilyn used the whip on him, of course, since that was the way of the society in which they lived, but he would rather not encounter anyone who might ask awkward questions, because he had no idea what he would say. Hopefully Shrilyn would have an excuse prepared, should such an event arise.
It didn't, thankfully, and they reached the hut unmolested. The place smelled of tar and glue, mostly, but that was what he had expected of a fletching house. There was also a metallic tang to the air, as though metal was frequently utilized here, as he was certain it was. Many archers used metal arrowheads, though some preferred simply to sharpen the shaft itself, or to use stone or some other thing. He'd once known someone who used glass arrowheads and deliberately aimed to have the arrowhead shatter on impact and get inside a person's armor. He'd thought that was a particularly unpleasant sort of thing to do, though he would admit it was clever. It did seem like it might be inconvenient to have to keep a glazier handy on the battlefield to make more arrowheads, but he hadn't mentioned that.
Inside the hut, he closed the door firmly behind him with a motion bespeaking much practice in closing doors silently. He also moved with a stealthy gait which looked normal, but which made absolutely no sound as his feet struck the ground. Shri had teased him that he should train as an assassin, since he was becoming so adept at sneaking, thanks to her. He had grinned and said he'd take it under consideration, but privately the thought of being an assassin was abhorrent to him. He wasn't clever enough for that life, and wasn't particularly fond of intrigue and secrecy, for all that he seemed to find himself embroiled in it on a regular basis.
"So," he said. It was all he could come up with.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2008 2:40 pm
"So." The female responded as she sat down at her bench. She examined each arrow for any damage from her training before cleaning and sharpening the tips. Arrows were not something you just threw away, at least hers weren't. She had seen some of the shoddy arrows the other girls had made themselves and frankly she wasn't impressed. But there was also the matter with Val to attend to.
Amber eyes looked away from her arrows for a moment to address the male. She watched as he silently and stealthily closed the door and made sure no one was around. Apparently he was use to this. She wondered briefly why but decided she really didn't care. At least they wouldn't be caught. "I need to care for my arrows before we do anything so make up your mind on who goes first. Me or you. I don't really care, I can throw a whip even after getting hit."
Which was true, pain hardly kept her from doing her job. Be it striking a target or striking an individual. This also allowed Val to set up any necessary things for his devotion to the Goddess. She knew some of it but not the whole story. Now she was going to get a full introduction as she was apparently going to be administering his penance. It was impowering and arousing all at the same time. Not in the sexual way though, more like arousing the mind into a new state. It was hard to describe.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2008 3:43 pm
Val's eyes dropped to the floor, unfamiliar with being in a position of making choices when there was someone of higher rank and greater authority around. Shri - his Shri - occasionally played games with him where he was given choices, but she usually went ahead and did exactly as she pleased, regardless. He never minded, and enjoyed indulging her. It gave him pleasure to please her, and she rarely asked more of him than he could give.
"Of course. What kind of archer would you be otherwise?" he said amiably, studying the arrows on another bench. These had been cut so that they would have extra spin, with spirals down the length of the arrow to increase its spin. He had paid attention when they were talking about archery. He just wasn't very good at it.
He glanced at a wall, rather than look at Shrilyn as he said, "Be that as it may, you should use the whip first. I'm probably more experienced at turning a whip on someone else when in pain. No offense, but I'd rather not end up with any permanent scarring because you're distracted."
That was about as forward and assertive as he could bring himself to be in this situation. He couldn't help wondering it it was he always ended up doing things which were crimes against Lloth. He was as loyal to the Goddess as anyone else, more than many, he was sometimes certain. He was faithful in his devotions, but he never quite seemed to be able to make things normal. Part of the penance he would be doing would be because he would strike a female. Quite the neat little cycle. He groaned internally.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2008 6:43 pm
He was given the choice as yet another test. He would learn quickly with her that everything she said to him could be a test. Every question, command, or action had the potential to tell her something else about him that he didn't verbally say. The body was very telling and she knew how to ready it. His acceptance of her repairing her arrows showed he was a proper warrior, where your weapons should never fall into disrepair. Not even to punish or devote yourself. To do so was against their very training
His next decision to allow her to weild the whip first showed his proper devotion to Lloth, at least in her eyes. A female should always wield first, a male should take the pain before her. Yet another good point in her eyes.
"Very well. Your devotion is well in it's place by letting me wield it first. Despite your gender Lloth must have some favor to you." Was her answer as she finished repairing the minor injuries to her arrows then stood. Now she was focused and something far more authoritive and meancing crossed her demeanor. She could play games with him later, first she had to test him. She also had to learn what his devotion truly meant. From a bag near her bench she took out a whip. It was one of the first weapons she had created other than her arrows. It had been much simpler, twined leather coated in mink oil with a find handle.
"Now Valyrr, teach me your devotion so you make keep your favor."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2008 7:53 pm
He did not yet understand that it was Shrilyn's way to test people over and over again, and Val seriously doubted that he had Lloth's favor, but he wasn't going to argue. At best, she was right, in which case arguing would only anger the Spider Queen. At worst, she was wrong, but because she was in the wrong, the Spider Queen's wrath shouldn't fall on him. Theoretically. He wasn't going to claim to understand how the mind of the Goddess worked. He was positive it was blasphemous to even think one understood Her.
"Then I will explain," he said, his eyes on the whip she carried. It wasn't particularly well-suited to self-flagellation, he noticed, having too long of a handle by far and much too long of a tail, but it was not an inferior instrument. It was also not up to the quality of the whips used in Baen'duis, but that hardly made any difference, since he had no intention of trying anything difficult or elaborate with it. A simple lashing.
"First, it is imperative that each of us have a signal word or phrase which will stop the other at once, should it become unbearable." On this he was firm, and if she tried to argue he would leave. He would not tell anyone, but he would leave. "The word is usually something one is unlikely to say while receiving a lashing, such as the name of a flower or a childhood friend. Everyone in my family uses the same signal, Sunshine. It is up to you to choose your own signal."
He paused, and then continued. "My family's devotions are performed in the manner of confession and penance. We ennumerate any wrong-doings since the last time we have done penance, and after each one the priestess delivers a lashing she feels equivilant to the misdeed. The graver the crime, the harsher the beating. In the end, the penitent is considered absolved of all confessed sins."
He did not mention that people have died doing this, because they refused to give their signal or did not realize how badly they were being damaged. That was partly the fault of the priestess, it was acknowledged. The blame was shared between the penitent for not knowing his or her limits, and the priestess, for not recognizing when to stop, signal or not. It wasn't important that she know that. He had only ever given his signal when his sister held the lash, and because she had wanted him to.
"There's really no special ceremony. The penitent begins with the words, 'I have committed crimes against the Goddess Lloth,' and the administrator asks him or her to name the crimes. When the penitent is finished, the administrator says, 'Be absolved.' Though, since you're not actually a priestess, I'm not sure you can do that, technichally." He cocked his head to one side as he considered the matter. "I leave it up to your discretion."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2008 8:06 pm
Shrilyn listened carefully to everything Val had to say. One missed instruction could lead to something serious. Either his death, their discovery, or worse. He mentioned a signal word, it sounded good to her. She agreed to use the word "Sunshine" as their safe word. It was good they had such a thing so as no true harm should come either person.
Next she listened to his explination of the way they confessed their sins against the goddess. It sounded reasonable to her, she wondered why so many were against it. Then again a lot made sense to her that others found unusual or incorrect. She had learned to live with this fact. But Val generally seemed to believe this so she wouldn't say anything else about it.
"Well then I shall just say that you have recieved punishment and may the goddess see you without sin." That seemed appropriate, that the female hope the male was seen better in the eyes of the goddess. She may not be a priestess but she was loyal to her Goddess and hoped her words would reach the Spider Queen. She could see Val wanted to be a good worshiper and please the Queen, even if it meant doing somethings that she may not approve of.
"So, shall we begin?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2008 8:34 pm
He had not expected that Shrilyn would choose to take the signal of House Baen'duis as her own, though he supposed it had been more for expediency's sake than anything else. At her question, Val nodded, inclining his head. He did not raise it once more, however, and said softly, "As you will it."
He stripped off his tunic slowly, not by design, but simply because he got the feeling if he had simply ripped it off and thrown it into a corner Shrilyn would not have been amused. At home, Shri had often liked to see to disrobing him for herself, but he got the feeling Shrilyn wouldn't want to do that, either. He would not have felt comfortable if she had. It occurred to him as he was folding his tunic and placing it out of the way on someone else's bench that Shrilyn might decide she needed to be in a similar state of undress. He'd deal with the matter if it arose, he decided.
His head remained bowed and his hands lay palms down on his folded thighs. Sometimes a priestess would have a penitent stand to do their penance, but in uncertain situations it was better to kneel. It showed respect for both the Goddess and the administer. Not to mention, a particularly brutal beating could bring a person to their knees anyway. It was better to start off there. Bare to his hips, and as vulnerable as most would ever see him, Val said in a soft, almost reverential tone, "I have committed crimes against the Goddess Lloth."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 05, 2008 4:11 am
Shrilyn watched the male strip and kneel to the floor. She could see the numerous scars from his family's worship and some that didn't look like worship. He must have been a very bad boy considering. But now was not the time to dwell on such things, she had an agreement to uphold. Stepping forward she looked to the male.
"Name your crimes, Valyrr."
She would listen to his words, consider them carefully and punish as she saw fit. She had only a small doubt that she would not punish as harshly as some of his house, but she was not trained to know everything they thought to be a crime. Perhaps they saw some things differently than other houses. But she would base it on her own judgement as she was the administrator in this case.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 05, 2008 5:19 am
There were ways to make devotions go faster, just as there were ways to draw them out. It was easiest, of course, so simply categorize one's crimes and then say how many times one committed that particular offense, though it was always a good idea to include some sort of addendum at the end which went something along the lines of, And other crimes I have forgotten to mention. That particular expression was not a favorite with the priestesses at home because it was very vague and could be used to conceal a myriad of sins, so they were rarely soft in meting out penance for its use. Val had always used it to conceal his worst sins - his relationship with his sister and all that it entailed - rather than risk putting Shri in any sort of danger. Now that he thought about it, that sort of indicated that he was more devoted to Shri than to the Goddess. Interesting. Definitely blasphemous. One more blasphemous thought. Which reminded him...
"I have entertained blasphemous thoughts at least eight times," he confessed, beginning with the crime closest to the surface of his mind.
There was usually an order in which people tended to list their crimes, and it usually went from most abhorrent to least, since the resulting penance would then go from harsher to less harsh, and if a person could not endure the whole of it, at least they would be absolved of the worst of their crimes. At least, that's how he'd always done it. It seemed more practical to him. He had learned the tactic from his brother, who probably learned it from Etheshalee. She was very good at figuring out ways around things. And his mind was wandering, which was not appropriate. There was no rule saying that a person had to be focusing wholly on their penance. He knew for a fact others deliberately took their minds away to ignore the pain, but Val felt that was both dangerous and self-defeating. What good was penance a person was hardly conscious of? And how could a person gauge how much they could withstand if they weren't mentally present? A last thought flickered across his mind: Was it worth it to mention at a later date that penance was usually administered in multiples of eight?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 15, 2008 7:10 pm
Shrilyn listened as Val named his crimes. He seemed generally seemed like he wanted to repent for his crimes against the goddess. It was interesting to see. A male rarely was so wanting of forgiveness, usually they just wanted to be left alone by the females. But they had an agreement, and Shrilyn would not let up on her part. Once his crimes were listed she began to strike at his flesh with the whip. Her strikes were not hard at first, as she took time to consider the area they were in and how loud her strikes were. Loud strikes would bring attention, and that was the last thing she needed.
Finally Shrilyn decided he had been punished for his crimes and pulled the whip one last time. "May the goddess see you without sin now."
The female began to clean the whip as Val did whatever he needed to do after the session. She also began to consider how they would carry out the other half of their agreement.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 18, 2008 10:03 am
Throughout the ritual cleansing, Val found that he was distancing himself from the ablutions he had bargained for. There was a reason, however, and it was not simply to distance himself from pain. He was evaluating Shrilyn's technique and style. Mostly he was mystified, because he could see she was altering the usual method of dealing with a lash, but he could not see why. He had never bothered trying to be silent in his flagellations, because everyone knew he performed them, and had eventually ceased to take any note when he did so. Thus, it did not occur to him that Shrilyn might be striving for silence in her whipping as well.
As Shrilyn uttered her final pronouncement, Val bent further at the waist until he could put his palms flat on the ground and touch his forehead to the backs of his hands. He held that position for a moment, mouthing his fervent wish: "May it be so."
He wondered as he eased his tunic on over his raw back whether he ought to offer her any constructive criticisms, or whether he would be better off just letting her do as she saw fit. In either event, it didn't really matter, but he wasn't sure if she wanted to learn to wield a lash against herself, or whether it was enough for her to have someone else turn it against her. Val had never before considered how much he knew of the process until now, but he could be very objective and clinical at need, and see what needed work and what was well done. Well, decades of experience probably had something to do with it.
"Allow me," he said, holding out his hand to take the whip and cleaning supplies from her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 27, 2008 3:06 am
"No, I'm picky about how I clean my things. But you can tell me if I did a good enough job to facilitate your worshipping. I am not as practiced with a whip nor did I really want our actions to be heard by any passing ear." Shrilyn was open to criticism, hell that's why she gave so much of it herself. Seeing flaws was how you over came them. If you never noticed your flaws you never improved and improvement was the reason for doing anything. She continued to clean her whip until it was satisfactory then readied herself for her own punishment.
"Despite my practice I missed several targets or did not hit exactly where I had intended. As an archer, that can mean the difference in killing your opponant or just injuring them. I do not plan on letting my targets live. So for each missed mark, I want at least 10 lashes. For each off target hit I want another 10. So that will be 50 lashes unless you can make less hits feel like 50." Yes, it might be alot but to her it was simply more training. And she had taken such things before. She suspected his skill would allow him to use less but still deliever the pain and suffereing she needed in order to improve herself.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2008 7:13 pm
Val wouldn't have shrugged, but he did twitch his shoulderblades toward each other in what might have been a shrug in someone else, though, of course, it wasn't a visible motion anyway beneath his top. The twitch was accompanied by a noncommittal uttering of "As you will."
"There is little danger we will be overheard, but your caution is commendable," he said as he returned his hands and arms to his sides. "Of course, for the switch, I believe you're very correct in exercising caution. This reversal is not the sort which is popular among our Goddess' followers."
"As far as whether you did a good enough job, you did as well as any of the unordained might. There is some advice I might offer: pain is made more lasting and effective if you don't strike the same place. I mean, if you make the lash fall just off the original mark, but near enough that the span between the two also feels as though it's been struck, without actually having had a lash fall there."
He took the whip from her hand and held it contemplatively as he listened to her enumerate what she wanted in terms of punishment. In a way he was relieved she was more interested in how badly it hurt than in how many blows landed. As she suspected, he was able to make fewer strikes cause the same amount of pain. Fifty lashes was excessive. No one should be administered such a beating for such seemingly minor infractions. Even if accuracy meant the difference between injury and death.
He could, maybe, half the number of blows, but she still would barely be able to move. Pain was pain, and even those used to bearing it were not ordinarily conditioned to bear the discomfort which accompanied the sensation of fifty lashes' striking. He wouldn't have particularly enjoyed being on the receiving end of such a beating.
He waited for her to ready herself, and then he raised the whip to begin.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
