Chapter 7
All the young slavegirls bound to their cots felt their hearts in their mouths, so to speak. Their instincts had their young cunnies quivering, for they knew that something was happening in the house of the black whip, and it was something that would have terrible repercussions on them all.
The sound of the whip continued to crack, and the man-cries echoed through the corridor known among the girls who lived there as the corridor of pain.
Then the feet of a man were heard trotting down the hall. The emergency board in his chamber indicated that the emergency call had come from Angelica's room, but the sounds from the room on the end, the room beside Angelica's room, caused the Whipmaster to head straight for that door.
He barged in to find the act against the house in all its depraved glory. He called for the ultimate Master, not afraid of waking the ultimate Master since the flagrant act was such a crime, according to the rules of this house of discipline.
The ultimate Master came down the corridor minutes later, having been alerted to the need by the Whipmaster's emergency bell, the buzzer located in his utility belt.
He did not get to see the whipping, which had stopped by this time, but he did see the back of Culver the Whipmaster, with the whip markings on it. And he saw the virgin blood on the cot.
"You have chosen to disregard all of the teachings of the cult!" the ultimate Master boomed. His voice carried down the hall, and all of the girls trembled to hear it, though they trembled not nearly as much as young Sheree.
Culver tried to be strong and protective.
"Ultimate Master," he said, "I am your humble slave. I understand the teachings of the black whip cult. But I feel that there may be exceptions. Sheree is different. She will respond to love. Punishment does not work with her."
"Punishment is love," the ultimate Master replied. "That is what your kind cannot comprehend. But it is the key to obedience and to the working of the world. The world outside those doors," he said, pointing to the atmosphere beyond the house, "is backwards! And it doesn't work! Just look around you. Look at the things that are happening out there. Look at the war and poverty and destruction. Look at the rebellion and unhappiness. The world lacks the discipline of love."
"But this girl ... " Culver protested.
"This girl needs to be dominated. She had no purpose in life, until she came to us. We bought her, body and soul. She is ours to train, so that under the influence of our discipline, she can find herself. The true nature of every female is to be submissive and subservient to the male."
Culver realized that he had gone in reverse of the training and its goals.
"As a Whipmaster you have been trusted and trained to create submissive girls from spoiled, directionless ones. You have been given the task of using punishment to train and mold these girls. But it is obvious that you have chosen to ignore all of this," the ultimate Master said. "You have abused your power. You have indulged in sex for your own pleasure, rather than using it as a tool in this girl's training. And you have allowed the girl to seek her own pleasure in an aggressive manner. You have deprived her of her happiness as a submissive."
Culver hung his head. He had followed his own dictates, ignoring the demands of his position as a Whipmaster. He had also ignored the vows he had taken; vows which bound him to the teachings of the black whip cult, as much as the handcuffs bound the slavegirls to the walls and floors and cots.
"For this, there is only punishment for you," the ultimate Master announced gravely. "You are to be banned from the house of the black whip. You shall spend the rest of your days out in the outside world. We are giving you your freedom, Culver, because that is the ultimate punishment we can give."
Culver looked at Sheree. He thought that he loved her. But now he was confused. He had wanted to protect her from what he believed to be abuse. Her body was so smooth and tender. He couldn't bear the thought of the whip biting into her.
"Ultimate Master," Culver said softly, "I understand that I am to be banished from the house of the black whip. But please, Sir, answer me this question."
"Go ahead, you may ask it," the ultimate Master replied, "however, if you are asking to take Sheree with you, the answer will be no. You must go. She will stay. She is still young, and she can still learn to submit to what is best for her. After you are dismissed, I shall tell her what her punishment will be for this offense, for she is responsible for it as much as you are."
Culver swallowed hard. He felt terrible knowing that Sheree would be receiving much more abuse than he would ever have given her, all because he wanted to spare her. It was a backward world, he agreed. He tried to do something, and he achieved the opposite of what he hoped for.
"Ultimate Master," Culver said, beginning another question. "Where did I go wrong?"
"You did not fully accept the teachings of the black whip cult. You started to return to the thinking of the outside world, forgetting that the outside doesn't work, while life within the confines of this house works for the slavegirls and their Masters. We have our own rules, and they work. That is the proof of the power of my teachings.
"You began to care about this girl, instead of loving her, and I have told you that there is a difference between loving and caring. You can't love a slavegirl if you care about her."
"But that is my confusion," Culver replied, his voice cracking, his eyes tearful. "If you love a girl, you care about her."
"No, that is where you fall under the domination of the outside world. If you follow the teachings of me, your ultimate Master, you will be showing your love for the slavegirls. You will be training them for the happiness they can only achieve by serving males.
"Look at that wall," the ultimate Master continued, pounding on the wall of the tiny room. "It doesn't care about the girls. It doesn't care if they have long hair or short. That wall doesn't care if the girls cry or not. It doesn't care if their beatings bring welts to the girls' flesh. All it does is keep its commitments as a wall. Just as you were instructed to keep your commitments as a Whipmaster.
"But you didn't trust my teachings and you must hand over your utility belt and leave this house forever. It will be your fate to suffer the damnation of the free world. The free world is not free. It is backwards."
Culver looked at Sheree one last time. "I'm sorry," he told her.
He handed over his utility belt and its contents. Then he was escorted, naked, from the house. Two Whipmasters took him to the front door, and booted him out into the night, which was growing into morning and lightness.
Culver wandered down Lagoon Road. He had no place to go. His life had no direction. He had no aim any longer. Even as he took his first steps from the house of the black whip, he regretted what was happening.
But he could never return.
Everyone was gathered for the ritual.
The ultimate Master waited until the night of the next full moon to perform the ritual of punishment on Sheree, and the ritual of reward on Angelica.
Angelica had progressed in her journey as a slave. By reporting the incident she observed through the peephole, she had earned the right to wear the brand of the black whip cult. The red star was going to be put on her left breast.
As for Sheree, she had been beaten severely and kept in the solitude of a lower dungeon. She had been given only water with a bit of lemon juice in it. This was enough to keep her alive, but barely.
By the third day of the forced fast, Sheree was feeling light-headed. She began to hallucinate, imagining that the very boards from the floors were rising to whack her repeatedly across the flanks.
She had been told that she would receive a torturous punishment on the night that Angelica would receive her red star of merit. Her captive wrists ached from the tightness of the handcuffs around her wrists. She feared what would come to her.
The ultimate Master had told her that there were several offenses for which she would be punished. He had said that they would be administered not by a Whipmaster, but by him, the ultimate Master!
"I will not tax your tolerance," he told her. "I will break it! And still I will give you more. But you will kiss the whip because that whip shall teach you lessons you will never forget. Your body will provide a feast for the whip; a ripe offering for the lash. And each stroke will train you further, so that you will never again make the mistakes you made that night."
She knew that she had made it impossible for herself to ever receive the manna of the ultimate Master. She would never be presented to him on a golden platter, because she had wasted her virginity on the weak Whipmaster, Culver.
But there was hope for her happiness, the ultimate Master had told her, because she would be receiving her punishment before the entire congregation of the black whip cult. The sins would be absolved from her body, washed away with pain and tears, just as they had been put in her with the lips and tongue of Culver.
It seemed that she had been down in the damp, dank dungeon for an eternity. Without food, she became dizzy and deluded. It was as if they had fed her drugs, although they would never do that at the cult house. They had natural means of making her crazy. Food deprivation was one of them.
She had been bound to a post which stood in the center of the otherwise barren room. Her hands had been secured one to the other with handcuffs, silver handcuffs, clicked to the tightest notch to keep her wrists snug within them.
By the second day in isolated bondage, her wrists began to swell. The circle of silver around her wrists felt as if it were in her flesh.
Being bound in an upright position forced the girl to sleep while standing. She had thought that she had been roughing it when she stayed in the cubicle of a room. But at least there she had a cot.
There was a heavy steel door which enclosed her. A small box on the door, with bars, made it possible for passing Whipmasters to look in on her from time to time, just to make sure that she was still standing against the post.
Not that many Whipmasters ventured down into the cavernous depths of the dungeon, and so the girl was completely alone most of the time. If a Whipmaster did go down to enter her cell of bondage, it was usually to flog her.
The whippings stirred the girl to a state a awakeness. She was informed that she was being whipped to cleanse her soul. She was informed that she had lost the right to be presented to the ultimate Master, and she was instructed to tell each Whipmaster why she had lost the privilege.
That she did, and she was punished each time she presented a point. She was most severely punished for losing her virginity to a guard, and for being a dominant partner in a whipping experience.
"It is only for spoiled girls to taste the whip," one of the Whipmasters told her while he flogged her from her knees upward. The Whipmasters had been instructed to keep away from damaging her beyond recognition, or anything like that, despite the temptation to punish her severely for her recent sins. That would be taken care of by the ultimate Master in his own way, and the Whipmasters were only to give her reminders of what was awaiting her.
The night of the full moon came, and it was time for the dual ritual involving Sheree, the naughty slavegirl, and Angelica, the slavegirl who had earned her red star of the black whip cult.
There was electricity in the air, for the full moon seemed to have a power over the girls. It made them all tremble, although many of them didn't realize why they were in such a high state of excitement and arousal.
The ultimate Master knew of the powers of the moon. The waxing and waning of the moon caused changes in the tides, and if it had such power of the expansive oceans, certainly it had that power over the girls of the black whip cult.
One of the highest Whipmasters came down to the dungeon to take Sheree off for punishment before the congregation. He was attended by six slavegirls who were given purple robes for the night's ritual. It was strange to see the girls clothed to that extent, after becoming so used to the near-nudity of their tattered loincloths.
Sheree had been dozing while standing. She was dreaming of her future, wondering what her punishments would be.
She heard the sound of a key in the lock on the silver handcuffs which restrained her and bound her to the post. The Whipmaster, also in a purple robe, opened the lock and began unclicking the handcuff.
It felt so good to be out of the tight cuffs for the first time in what seemed to be nearly a week. The Whipmaster massaged the circulation back into the wrists of the girl, and told her not to fear.
"You're punishments will be severe," he told her, "but it will be all for your ultimate good. You'll feel much better after you've been disciplined."
"Yes, I should think so," Sheree replied weakly. She didn't have to say that she felt terrible at the moment, and that she couldn't imagine feeling any worse.
As she walked in the custody of the Whipmaster, with several purple-robed slavegirls beside her, she wondered what mental thoughts she could use to help herself withstand the upcoming punishments.
If she thought about the stated fact that the punishment would make her feel better, and would be for her own good, she feared that she would be going against the teachings of the ultimate Master. She was supposed to live for her own pleasure. She was supposed to receive her pleasure in the giving of herself.
Culver flashed into her mind, and she had an answer. She would take this punishment for him. Culver was gone, and probably he was suffering out in the outside world. But if she took this punishment thinking of Culver, she would be giving herself up for pure love. It would give her the willpower to take the punishment without whimpering. It might even get her to start begging for the punishment, which was something the dominants liked to hear, as long as she didn't get aggressive about her demands, as some of the girls had under those circumstances.
Sheree was led into the chapel. She could hear the chanting growing louder as she approached, and she knew that the ultimate Master would be waiting for her.
All eyes were on her as she entered the room. She glanced around, looking for a familiar face. All she saw was the face of a girl she had never seen before. She assumed that it was a new recruit, another young novice in need of training.
Sheree bowed down before the ultimate Master, who stood behind the alter with his strong arms folded in front of him. A serious expression rested on his face.
"You know that you are here to be given a full dose of punishing discipline for your sins," he said.
"Yes, Master," she replied, her voice trembling. "I have abused the rules I was trained to keep. Please give me what I deserve."
"You know that the cult of the black knows exactly how much you deserve, and we give you that much, and no more; no less. All that you receive you shall deserve, and you will find yourself after you receive it. You will have direction. You have a purpose in life."
"To give myself to the dominant sex," Sheree replied.
"That is correct," the Master answered. "It seems that you forgot about that recently. You forgot about a lot of the rules of our clan. Either you forgot, or you deliberately chose to break the rules. Which is it?"
Sheree was ashamed. She hated to admit it, but she had to be honest. This was all for her own good. Besides, the eyes and ears of the entire congregation were upon her. She had to speak the truth and take the consequences.
"I was swayed by the stirrings of my body. I responded with my body instead of with my mind and soul. I should have known that momentary pleasure wouldn't quench my lusts. I was trained to serve for love, and I thought that it was love which was making me give my virginity to Culver."
"Nothing can make you do anything," the Master announced to Sheree and the congregation. "You make all moves of your own accord. It is for you to receive the education which teaches you the proper path to take. Then you will know how to move most appropriately. You will move for your ultimate Master, and for his black whip."
Sheree cringed, for the black whip was dangling from the Master's hand. It was the black whip which had become the name of the cult. It was the one which hurt the most; the one which had made slavegirls bite the dust. It was the one which only the ultimate Master used, as only he knew how.
But Sheree thought about Culver and she felt fortified. She would take it for Culver, and that way she would be taking the dominance for a man. That was what her life was all about.
"Your disregard for the teachings of the cult was flagrant," the ultimate Master announced. "If you were not a beautiful teenaged girl, we would have banished you along with Culver. But that much you have been spared."
"Thank you, Master," Sheree said softly. "I know that freedom is really bondage, according to the outside world."
"That is correct," he told her. "As for your punishments," he continued, "you must, receive punishment that will serve as a reminder for a long time to come. There is more training for you to go through before you'll be happy, and we must keep you constantly reminded of your direction throughout the period of your training. If you regressed again, it might mean expulsion."
Sheree didn't really know what the word expulsion meant, but she knew she didn't want it happening to her. She could tell just by listening to the Master's voice that it was far worse than any punishment would be.
"So we have the obligation to punish you severely, while keeping your body in good enough shape for you to continue as a slavegirl here," the Master said. He felt that he should explain the situation to her before starting the actual ritual of punishment.
"So to punish you well in a manner which will linger with you, your ultimate Master has devised a personalized set of punishments for you. You are to submit totally, knowing that the punishments are the punishments of pure love. If we didn't love you, we wouldn't try to correct you like this."
"I understand, ultimate Master," the naked slave replied. "I am ready to take whatever it is you are going to give me. I am grateful that you see fit to punish me like this. It is kind of you, and I appreciate it."
"Good. Then the ritual shall begin."
With that proclamation, a cymbal was struck, and the ceremony began. Naked slavegirls danced around the chapel, showing their charms and the red stars on their bosoms.
A Whipmaster in a purple robe withdrew a pair of silver sheers. As the purple-robed slavegirls who had escorted Sheree into the chapel held the girl in place, the Whipmaster brought the sharp scissors up to Sheree's head.
She felt his hand at the roots of her long, blonde hair. He pulled the strands away from her head. They extended quite a distance from her scalp when stretched like that, since her hair had grown below her shoulders.
Sheree had always been proud of her long hair. She received many compliments on it. But the Whipmaster knew that. So did the ultimate Master. That was why the beautiful hair was being trimmed away.
Sheree didn't dare utter a sound of protest, although she couldn't keep the tears from her eyes. Culver had even told her how beautiful her hair was.
The ultimate Master spoke. "This bondage material is better than twine, better than rope, better than chain and steel. You are to be bound with the locks of your own hair."
The silver sheers found the very ends of the hair, and snipped. Slavegirls gathered the strands together, and tied the ends with purple ribbons.
"The hair is a very strong material," the ultimate Master said. "It will bind you as tightly as chain. And when you see your head, or feel it, you will be reminded of this particular bondage, long after it is no longer tied around your body."
It had taken Sheree years to grow her hair to that length. She felt the scissors giving her a crew-cut. Nothing but stubble was left on her head.
And the long strands of hair became like ropes, for the bondage of Sheree.