Their stage was set and I saw Damien evaluating me. He ran the instrument in his hand between my breasts and dragged it down my stomach. Depending how hard he hit, I imagined he could open skin with it.

“You will thank me for each strike and count. If you fail to do those things or say something else, you will earn two more hits in the same place. For every mistake the punishment will double. I doubt you will make many mistakes before you find the rhythm in this lesson."

I tensed and waited as the air over my mouth released a Little.

The first stinging blow was delivered to the inside of the right knee. I gritted my teeth and then spit out the required thank you and the number. The second strike landed in exactly the same place and I lashed out at Damien.

“You hit the same spot!" I yelled and Damien's jaw tensed.

"Two more Lashes in that place for an incorrect answer," Evan said coldly.

“Damien said he would mark you twice more for every infraction. He did not say how the rest of the stripes would be delivered.”

I counted the two punishment Lashes as the first tear crested in my eyes. The last number came out in a virtual shout and Kein sighed loudly.

Fuck them and fuck the rules, I thought viciously. No one said I couldn't be loud. I should have assumed it, though.

Kein fiddled with the table and a strange feeling air mask came over my nose and mouth. It made it hard to breath and I started to struggle in my bonds.

"It is uncomfortable?" Evan asked and I nodded. "Good, that is the point. It will modulate your voice until you are able to do it yourself. We will remove it when we feel you have learned."

“The next strike is number two," Damien stated as he raised his arm.

“You will suffer sixteen on each leg."

By the tenth counted blow I was addressing Damien as Master. The Brothers had paused in my training to discuss this. It seemed appropriate that they be Master when they were disciplining me. They would be Brothers again when I had Learned my lesson.

Damien placed sixteen controlled marks down the inside of my right leg. I earned four rounds of extra punishment, or eight extra strikes, during that time and those marks didn't count. The inside of that leg felt like it was on fire.

When they reached the joint of my thigh and my torso Evan tilted the table so I was in a more upright position. The air mask over my face was removed and Kein fed me a little water.

“What lesson are you learning, Ciara?" Bane asked looking hopeful. I blubbered out something about not saying anything and Bane passed a tired hand over his face.

“You may speak, Ciara. We all speak. Control your tongue is today's lesson," Bane said.

The strikes began on my left knee and were paced thoughtfully toward the juncture of my thighs. Each mark was made with the same intensity and timing. Damien Laid each stripe and then crossed it Leaving a pattern of thatching down my flesh.

The interlaced marks hurt worse than I could have imagined. Damien adjusted his strikes so every patch of skin was hit multiple times. It was awful.

There was no use yelling at them. I'd learned that very quickly. Outbursts got me more marks. It was plain to see the reactions to my lack of control in deep red on my right leg. My Left leg showed obvious improvement in my restraint.

“The next part," Christof announced, “will test your control. There will be times it is more tempting to call out, you must control yourself. Do you understand?"