Red Welts are Marks of Disobedience
“Do your welts ache, slave?”
“Yes, Mistress Diane.”
“You hurt, yet you have not improved your work quality.”
“Forgive men, Mistress Diane.”
“You are tardy, you hesitate – why would I forgive you.”
The male hung his head and was silent.
“I will continue to beat you daily until you improve.”
The slave’s eyes were damp.
“If you cry, I’ll beat you harder.”
The male bit his teeth. He tried to look repentant.
“I know that look. You fool nobody.”
She grabbed his scrotal sac. Yanking, she led him to the small room reserved for punishment.
“If necessary, I will whip you until every inch of your body is scarred. Then I will beat your scars.”
She dropped her riding crop. From the wall she took a thick black whip.
“After each lash, you will say, ‘I am a worthless man, typical of my gender.'”
Mistress Diane whipped the slave for an hour. From first to last, every lash cut into his skin. Fresh red welts covered his back.
She released him from the punishment rack. The male collapsed at her feet. He tried to lick her boot. She kicked him away.
“That is a privilege reserved for the slaves who know how to please their Mistress Owner.”