Lord Printer

"Are you saying you can't fix this, boy?" Fiona Drew glared daggers into her slave. The blue-haired lad gulped.

"Muh..my apologies mistress, but -" Effy trembled under her harsh electric blue eyes. Mistress Fiona was a woman in her late forties. A powerful Spellsword with silver hair and rippling muscles and a tight body of a woman half her age. She wielded the strap as adeptly as she would a sword and Effy's soft posterior was a regular target ever since she rescued the lad ten years prior.

"Why is this contraption not working?" Fiona was a master of combat and magic. But computers were for her, a different breed of magic. A glass stone that showed her stories of plumbers fucking their mistresses and of tales in galaxies far far away. It was fragile, it was temperamental, the computer. Whenever she used it, it would spew nonsense at her. She had trained her boy to decipher it for her but Effy was not a good interpreter.

"The printer isn't working coz you um..." Effy wondered what the right words would be. The short answer was- she broke it. Printers weren't things one could intimidate by force or threats like she could do with slaves. Mistress Fiona's idea of cracking it with her whip was ill-conceived.

But he couldn't say that to her, could he?

"You broke it," he decided to try. It had been a couple of years since he tried the honesty approach.

Self-preservation was the biggest driver for slaves. Their bottoms could only take a set number of lashes after all. He usually would take the blame for the problem and take his beating in silence but Effy did not know how he could spin this around without telling her the truth.

"Excuse me?"

"You broke the printer. The... creature who makes the pictures and words on the white parchment."

"I see," Fiona nodded. "How?"

"T-the printer can't take such a harsh beating as I can," Effy explained. And upon his uttering, those words immediately realized his folly.

"Like you?" Fiona raised her brow. "As if you are better than this wonderous thing?"

"Um...that's not what I meant mistress," Effy shivered in cold panic as Mistress Fiona slowly began unbuttoning her top.

"That is what you implied. That a stupid slave creature like you is above this box of magic, magic that even I cannot fathom." Fiona had her elaborate dress on with multiple layers and she couldn't swing the scolding strap with the right intensity without stripping some of them.

"No mistress! I did not mean it so," Effy wasn't as well read or gifted with the skill of gab as her other two slave boys.

"You disrespected the lord printer." Fiona let her robes slip off of her bodice, revealing her toned warrior physique and her large orange-shaped breasts, her nipples erect. "Strip boy and kneel in front of the magic box. Grab your ankles."

Effy had tears flowing down his face as he stripped and took position.

THWAKK!

"Ooow! One, I'm sorry Mistress!" He realized that Fiona was using her switch. Thin and whippy, it bit into his tender flesh and left painful stripes which did not last that long.

"We will continue till you beg me to stop. Show the lord Printer just how tough you are."

The thin piece of wood continued to cut and nibble at his skin. Effy kept count as much as he could but by the eightieth stroke, he was at his limit.

THWAKK!

"Ei..fggh!" Fiona watched him collapse. She grinned at the crumbled boy, a small sheen of sweat beading across her skin.

"Pathetic slave. Thinking you're above the lord printer!" She slapped the thing on its side, inadvertently lining up its tray and the pages began to come out.

"Oh, glory be!" Fiona laughed. "It seems lord Printer needs your skin to be peeled to succeed!"