Captive Discipline

by Taryn Williams

  When she heard the door open, she glanced up guiltily. Undoubtedly she'd gone far beyond the few minutes Rodogan expected her to stay in his special place. Gathering up her books, she stood up. "I was just coming back out," she announced.

  The man who'd blocked her way to the kitchen now stood between her and the library door. "Mistress Janys," he mocked. "First you and Master Rodogan had your time together. Now who are you waiting for?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about." Janys eyed her escape route. "I came in here to see the books. Now I want to go find my husband."

  "My wife said that too. Said I did not know what I was talking about. All the time I saw the way they were together. Mister Patrick Johnson." He practically spit the words out. "Another beautiful offworlder."

  What was he raving about? As he stepped closer, she wondered if she should grab one of the canes. But what would she do with it? None of them looked thick enough to knock someone out, or stiff enough to spear him. Plus despite his unsettling words, she couldn't assume he intended to harm her.

  Still she needed some form of defense. She clutched the books more tightly against her chest. Could there be somebody outside in the yard? Would a shout carry that far through the walls? At least from the way his body swayed, she figured he'd had even more winnotal since their last encounter, giving her an advantage.

  He licked his lips. "They look so good. Offworlders. All that medical and science stuff. She also said he tasted good. Now I want to know. Do all offworlders taste good?"

  "I don't think so." She started inching towards him, keeping her back against the main shelves. If she could just get by him, she would beat him to the door.

  "'I don't think so," he mimicked. "Do you know what I think, Mistress Janys? I think you should give me a taste from that pretty mouth of yours. Right "—he ran a finger slowly along his bottom lip—"here."

  As he reached for her, she yelled "Catch!" and threw the books at him as hard as she could. His arms flew up overbalancing him so he fell down as she dashed to the door. Jerking it open, she ran out into the chill night air.

  Apparently everyone had gone inside, as no one from the house peered out in the darkness to track down her cry. She stumbled up the porch and opened the door, her heart threatening to break loose from her chest. Where was Martel?

  Her arrival went unnoticed by the partygoers, all who had gathered round something going on in the next room. As she drew closer, she heard the murmur of Rodogan's voice, followed by a female yelp and laugh… "See what a nice line that makes?" he announced to the group. "This one will go right below it—"

  If this was their version of pin the tail on the donkey, she'd pass. Instead she turned and continued on to the kitchen. With shaking hands, Janys poured herself a large cup of steaming winnotal, gulping it down so quickly she burned her tongue. Refilling it, she drained it again, then carried a third glass towards the living room. By the time the crowd began breaking away, she'd started to calm down.

  She kept one eye on the door, making sure her unwelcome visitor in the library couldn't creep up on her again. Probably he was still lying on the floor, sleeping off his intoxication. As her breathing slowed and heart rate returned to normal, Janys found the whole situation more distasteful than frightening. How many drunken embraces had she fended off on other occasions with no harm done? But Martel might not see it that way. If she told him, it might ruin the party, all because the host had been kind enough to show her the library.

  "There you are!" Her husband maneuvered around Alicitia and her boyfriend who were still giggling together over the caning. "I was going to come fetch you from the library, but I figured you might prefer to miss this particular entertainment."

  "But you watched it?"

  "To be polite." He shrugged. "And to study the way Rodogan uses his wrist. There is a real art to caning, and—" he leaned over and sniffed at her cup. "Winnotal? But I told you we would both stop after one serving."

  "I felt I needed it," she told him as he took the remainder away.

  "No, what you need is to listen to me," he retorted. "Unless you have enough food with it—"

  Suddenly the full impact of the drinks hit her. "I'm going to be sick," she mumbled, holding a hand over her mouth and running for the stairs. She'd seen other people coming down and assumed the bathroom would be at the top. Miraculously it was empty. Dashing in, she barely made it in time.

  A few minutes later while she rinsed out her mouth, she heard a light tap on the door. "Janys?" Shalimerie inquired. "Are you all right?"

  She opened the door. "We just got here," her friend said as she began running water over a guest towel. "Martel told us you had too much to drink, and sent me up here to help. And also to tell you to write down in your bibalon to receive twenty swats for each cup of winnotal beyond the first."

  Janys used the wet cloth to wipe off her face as she sank down on a small chair by the vanity. "I didn't mean to drink anything more, it's just—". Quickly she relayed the events of the evening to Shalimerie.

  The other woman took her arm. "But love, you must tell Martel! Right this minute!"

  "Why? So he'll forget about the twenty swats?" She folded up the towel and hung it back on the rack. "If so, I'll explain to him later. I just don't want to cause any trouble for Rodogan and Nila."

  "Forget about that," Shalimerie told her firmly. "Your marriage vows are much more important. Remember honesty? A wife who does not immediately let her husband know when another man makes overtures may be assumed to welcome them."

  "But I didn't welcome them!" Janys's stomach still churned from the winnotal, and her head began to ache. "I don't even know the guy's name!"

  "It sounds like Master Haraldo. Several decedonners ago, his wife ran off with a shuttle pilot, and it has been very difficult for him. But none of that makes any difference. Just let Martel know what happened and let him handle it…"

  "All right." Crossly she stood up and followed the bobbing brunette head out of the bathroom. Halfway down the steps she realized from the number of people grimly looking up at her that something must have happened more dramatic than a guest making a run for the facilities.

  Martel walked up the last few to take her arm, steering her past the others. As people moved out of the way, she saw Tadewidan standing in the middle of the room, Master Haraldo at his side with a red mark on his cheek.

  Seeing her, the Elder turned. "Would you like to repeat what you said, sir, when Master Rodogan found you in the library?"

  Haraldo bent a thumb towards Janys. "She threw books at me."

  "And why, Master Haraldo, would Mistress Janys do such a thing?" Tadewidan's eyes bored into his prey.

  The man scowled. "All I wanted to do was give her a little welcoming kiss. She took it the wrong way."

  "I guess she did," the Elder told him drily. "And we can all see why. We will deal with this later, when you are no longer under the effects of winnotal. In the meantime, Elder Carolliton and I will escort you to your home so you can get some sleep."

  He turned to Janys. "But first Mistress Janys, I wish to apologize for you on behalf of Wyteen that your first social gathering was marked in this fashion."

  "It's okay," she muttered. "It was nothing."

  "Still it must have been upsetting to you and your good husband," he murmured, cocking an eyebrow at her.

  "I suppose." Desperately she searched for a way to end the dialogue.

  "One thing I find surprising," Tadewidan continued. "Master Martel, I would have thought you would have gone immediately to the library to confront Master Haraldo. Did you not ask your wife where to find him?"

  As Martel's eyes darted frantically, Janys realized his quandary. Either he'd have to lie to the Elder or admit she hadn't told him about her problem. Were there penalties for husbands who failed to defend their wives' honor? If so, she couldn't let him be exposed. "He didn't know," she interjected. "I hadn't gotten around to telling him."

  "Really?" The voi
ces around them increased in volume as Tadewidan looked like a snake searching for the proper place to strike. "When were you planning to make your report? Before more books got thrown by the next person Master Haraldo tried to assault?"

  "He seemed to be targeting me because I was an offworlder," she parried. "I didn't think anyone else was in danger."

  "Not even another offworlder?" Tadewidan took a long look around. "You may be our most recent arrival, but there are many here who came from other places. Our hostess, Mistress Nila. Your esteemed mother-in-law. Mistress Plettigan."

  "I didn't think he'd go after them."

  "Probably not," he countered. "Because you believe Master Haraldo bestowed his unwanted attentions not because you are a new arrival, but because he found you attractive."

  Now the Elder had her boxed in. If she insisted Haraldo had been going after all offworlders, she should have warned the others. If he'd fixated on her, she needed to tell her husband. "Okay, it didn't seem like that big a deal, but I guess I should have said something." She held up her hands. "Mea culpa. Next time I'll go running to Martel every time a man looks cross-eyed at me."

  Someone poked her in the side. "Janys, stop talking. This is not helping," Shalimerie whispered in her ear.

  Tadewidan looked at Martel. "You know what must be done."

  Her husband wet his lips. "I will take her home as well—"

  "No," the other man cut him off. "Do it here in the presence of others. Can I trust you to carry it out while we get Master Haraldo out of here?"

  "Yes," Martel answered shortly. Gripping Janys's hand, he began pulling her towards the room where Rodogan caned his wife.

  Their host materialized before them. "Martel, if you need to use anything we have—"

  "I believe not," her husband replied… "The hairbrush Janys has in her laniter will serve quite well."

  Something hard and cold gripped her chest. "What do you mean?"

  He regarded her sadly. "I think you know. Please give it to me now, and with a few minutes over my knee we will take care of this matter."

  "Wait a minute!" As firmly as she could, she planted her feet on the floor. "There's no way I'm going to let you do that to me in front of everybody!"

  "I am sorry, but it has to be this way." People cleared away in front of them as he steered her towards the sofa at the end of the room.

  "Like hell it does!" Wrenching away, she tried to get to the door, but Rodogan stepped in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. "Let me go!"

  "Sorry, my dear, but we need you to stay." Without breaking stride he turned her around while Martel put his arms on her waist. Despite her struggle, the two men forced her towards the couch.

  Her husband sat down heavily, overbalancing her. She landed hard across his lap, her breath knocked out. Before she could recover, Rodogan shifted around to the side of the couch where he held her hands tightly stretched out above her head… On the other side, someone latched on to her ankles. Martel fumbled with the laniter, easily extracting the wooden brush. A few seconds later he jerked up her tunic, then slid down her prander.

  She knew how she must look to the other guests stretched out along the couch, anchored at both ends while her bare bottom tilted to receive its punishment. Glaring up at Rodogan, she clenched her teeth. "I hate you! Both of you!"

  Rodogan flipped his hands under hers so their palms lay together. "I am very sorry to hear that my dear, because I want to help you get through this. During the more painful moments, Nila sometimes likes to hold onto to someone else. "

  Janys deliberately relaxed her fingers. "I don't need to hold onto any–". The hairbrush cracked down across her left cheek. Automatically she squeezed Rodogan's hands as hard as she could. "Damn it!" The wood bit again on the same spot as she gasped.

  By the tenth smack, Janys gripped Rodogan as though her life depended on it. Compared to the marital paddle, the hairbrush seemed small and benign, but it stung her fanny like a large wooden insect. Soon she began sobbing from pain and humiliation.

  "Martel." Shalimerie's low voice cut through the loud smacks as the brush impacted her skin. "Perhaps Janys did not fully understand the significance of the situation."

  "I appreciate that, Shalimerie," he replied, never letting up on the pace. "And I agree. The matter involving him would have concluded some time ago. But I have to teach her not to resist punishment, even if she does not consider it justified. Most of all, I want to be sure when something happens to her like this, she tells me."

  Something like this. Janys's thoughts strayed from a moment from the status of her hind end to the Professor's visit. Haraldo just threatened to kiss her, but the Professor had succeeded. Tonight she might have been confused by unknown expectations, but she knew she should have confessed to Martel what transpired with her former lover. Although she hadn't been able to make herself ask for venatin, maybe she could accept this current spanking as such. Almost immediately her tears of anger and embarrassment transformed to contrition as she cried even harder.

  By the time Martel put down the brush, she'd stopped resenting him, and even managed to give Rodogan a weak smile as he drew his hands away. However her attitude almost flipped again when their host nodded towards the corner. "If you want to go the traditional route—"

  "Yes, some display would be appropriate." Her husband cupped his hand under her chin, forcing him to look up at him. "Janys, I want you to hold your tunic up, but not touch anything else. Walk over and stand there with the tunic above your waist until I give you permission to rearrange your clothes."

  "Please don't make me—" she began.

  "Janys," he replied firmly. "You know what happens when you disobey. Now you can choose between getting into the corner right now as I instructed, or first spending more time with the hairbrush."

  Scooting off his lap, Janys awkwardly stood up, trying to retain some vestige of dignity. With the prander down below her knees, she wobbled towards her destination, painfully aware that both sets of her cheeks blazed scarlet. As soon as she faced the plain walls, she began crying again.

  Voices drew softer as the crowd mercifully dispersed. A few minutes later, she felt someone rustling behind her. Some guest wanting a closer look at the target area? She closed her eyes and tried to will the person away.

  "Janys," Shalimerie whispered. "I am so sorry all of this happened… The next gathering will be so much better."

  "Next one?" Janys badly wanted to turn around and laugh at her friend, but she suspected she'd face severe consequences. "I'm never going to another party again even if I die of old age here."

  "I know you feel upset now—"

  "Well, yes, considering everyone I might ever hope to know in this damned community just saw me get my tail whipped." She laughed bitterly. "How could any of them ever respect me after that?"

  "Easily. More easily, love, than you can imagine." Shalimerie spoke slowly and calmly. "At one time or another, almost everyone has been spanked in public."

  "You mean like Nila and the cane? Forgive me if I don't consider that the same thing."

  Shalimerie didn't answer for a moment. "Nila sees things differently than most of us. To her our customs are fun—a way for her and her husband to play their games with the blessing of everyone else. She loves Rodogan to treat her that way, which makes it difficult for some people here to understand her."

  "Put me on that list. I can't begin to understand why someone would volunteer to be humiliated this way." She dropped her voice even lower. "Is there anyone else around?"

  "No, Rodogan took them outside for the lightning play. He regretted you would miss it, but felt you would prefer the solitude."

  Lightning play. Considering the fireworks already played out on her behind, Janys didn't mind missing the celestial show. She took advantage of the opportunity to surreptitiously swipe her eyes. "Look, I know you're trying to make me feel better, but you really don't believe I could ever walk into a room again filled with people who've seen me h
eld down and howling—"

  "It happens," her friend insisted. "No one will ever bring it up—"

  "Or if they do, it won't matter, because I won't be here to listen to it." Janys gave her tunic an angry tug. "Sorry but I don't believe anyone who went through this horror would ever let themselves be seen in public again."

  "Then I will have to prove it to you," Shalimerie sighed. "In just a few moments, when they come back—"

  "Shalimerie!" Kronitin's voice echoed through the room. "Is Janys talking to you during display?"

  Her friend paused, then muttered, "I suppose this will be as good a way as any," before raising her voice. "No, but I am talking to her. I am apologizing to her for the treatment she has been given tonight. Not one of us warned her about Haraldo, or paid attention when he became drunk again as he has other times with the last few decedonners."

  "Shalimerie," her husband spoke softly and urgently. "We can discuss later what you should receive for breaking display silence. But come outside with me before others hear—"

  "Hear what?" she responded, increasing her volume. "Hear what I think of other people being hypocritical? Haraldo has been on a rampage since his Mistress eloped. Have any others been punished for failing to report his inappropriate behavior?"

  "What do we have here?" Janys's heart sank as she realized Tadewidan had rejoined the party. "Master Kronitin, would you care to explain?"

  "No, but I will." Although she stayed facing the wall, Janys could imagine her friend flouncing across the room. "You and the rest of the Elders knew Haraldo had gotten out of line, but you turned away because you felt sorry for him. But let a woman, especially an offworlder do the same thing, and you order her husband to publicly humiliate her—"

  "Enough!" From the rising background noise, Janys figured they again had an audience. "Master Kronitin, it appears Mistress Shalimerie could benefit from a dose of what Mistress Janys received. Pray use the hairbrush lying there on the couch to restore her to her normal attitude."