Punishment Day Festival

Eva rose early on Mornsday, her sleep departing with a fluttering of nerves and excitement. It was the beginning of the Discipline Festival and would be her first performance as an apprentice disciplinarian, pledged to the Order of Sattivan: it would be both a disgrace to be late and an invitation to all manner of creative punishments for tardiness she was certain the masters and mistresses of the Order would visit upon her.

Her buttocks still had a faint ghost of an ache from her formal initiation two days ago. Her time in the interim had been spent in a blur of activity getting her quarters in assigned, drawing her uniforms, and being reviewed by the minor-council that governed apprentices and other lesser matters.

She had been observed carrying out a variety of tasks from taking dictation, to the washing of chamber pots, and the preparation and serving of tea and coffee. It had little to do with discipline, but she supposed that although her background in the small outpost town of Havlin had involved Training, she was being taken on in the City of DunnisUorm as a rank 1 apprentice so they expected her to know nothing.

And now, on the first warm day of Jenniarth, she was going to be assisting Mistress Karva in the application of discipline and punishment for the deserving! She hurriedly dressed, brushing her hair, and applying a mint to her mouth that burned unpleasantly (the small discomfort being no price at all to pay to stop her breath from possibly offending).

Then she was out, closing her door behind her (the apprentice dorms had no locks) and hurrying down past the house-mother, curtsying to the firm looking woman before exiting onto the still dark streets. She hurried along unfamiliar avenues until she was at the wall of the Order's keep when the bells about the city sounded First Light.

The grand arch-way was flanked by stone sphinxes gazing judgmentally down on anyone passing through. It was said that sometimes the exquisite statues could be inhabited by one of Minor Archons of the Order--and if so, woe betide an unfortunate without a clean ledger who passed under their gaze. Eva had been unable to sleep and had, risking a particularly humiliating punishment on her frist day, been unable to resist running her hand under the covers and to her thigh, carefully working her fingers inward to her shameful place where she had stroked herself in forbidden ways until she bit into her wrist to stifle a moan (which might have drawn the House Mother!) and gasped in relief of the overwhelming pressure from her initiation spanking (which had happened naked over the lap of a Council member whose face was covered with velvet mask but had been a skilled woman that had used both her hand and a childishly light paddle to draw the requisite tears from Eva as she recited the mantra. This memory-hot, humiliating, and drenched with shame had haunted her into the evening, refusing to be banished until she attacked the hot moist core of pressure it had kindled.

It seemed the statues were vacant today, however, as she felt nothing but some tell-tale blush on her cheeks as she skirted the courtyard to the lesser doors where she was to present herself.

The lesser doors--for apprentices and low-level acolytes were through an arch so low she had to crawl and draw up her skirts lets she dirty them on the brick courtyard: there was no question the submissive and demeaning act was entirely intended--as well as the minor discomfort of the scuffs to her knees.

Standing and straightening her clothes, she was shocked to see the minor-courtyard adorned with its own fountain and incredible statuary of three naked young women, squatting low, legs apart, facing out, with looks of fear and dismay on their rock faces. The work was so fine--so proportional and life-like--it had to be a masterpiece. She could see the folds on their nether-lips, the small erections of their nipples--the individual teeth in their open, gasping mouths.

"They're petrified, 'prentice." said a voice from one of the alcoves. "Serving sentences for a moon or so. The Order has a Raskalist in the basement."

Eva jumped, turning in a sudden motion to face the speaker, a hand up to her mouth.

"A ... a ... ohh." she swallowed questions and a surge of shock--and not a little bit of horror--a Raskalist--an Unclean--residing here--and then drew herself to attention, hands clasped behind her back, chin up, shoulders back.

"Apprentice Eva Almonian here to report for duty, Mistress--"

"Just Candidate, Apprentice," said the girl, stepping out into better light. "I've not completed the first circle. Candidate Iris."

"Yes, Candidate Iris," Eva said and bowed her head in greeting.

"Come," said Iris turning and holding the door. "I'm not going to beat you for for getting a title wrong or anything. But if Mistress Kava feels inconvenienced for any reason we'll both regret it." Her friendly smile didn't comfort Eva much. Those girls, squatting in the fountain, the small pumped jets of water splashing over their nether regions, had done something to find themselves posted there--turned temporarily to stone.

There was a long corridor with a carpeted floor and several doors off to the sides. There were what Eva thought were ornamental suits of armor at a couple of intervals but, on closer inspection as she passed, were ornate penitent cages--done in the style of armor but with locks and straps to hold an unfortunate inside and subject them to whatever added unpleasantness the cage provided. They were empty, this morning, Eva realized she was slightly disappointed to see, the hollow openings above the neck would display the subject's face and she could see rubberized bit-style gags attached with leather straps danging in the openings.

"Expect to be familiarized with the routine punishments," Iris nodded, taking her hand and tugging it as Eva realized she'd paused, gawking. "Kava will very likely assign some tasks you'll probably fail at and then season you with some of them. It's the way of the order."

"Not the Rasilisk," Eva said, and could have smacked herself for blurting it out--her voice betraying a quivering tension and fear.

Isis laughed, taking her up a spiraling stair. "No, girl--not that. You have to seriously get on someone' bad side--even Mistress Kava's for that. But I've been put in those cages and it's no fun!" she did grin slightly though. "Don't fret--your mistress will want to probe your spirit and character and pride--but she shouldn't terrorize you. Just be attentive and obedient and don't balk at any order and you'll do well. Mistress Kava is... highly skilled. I don't envy the unfortunates on her docket today."

Eva shuddered at that--but she felt the... excitement... as well. In her home town they'd observed the Discipline Festival as well as all the others--and while it had been nothing extravagant she had, even when she was quite young, felt an inner *tug* at the spectacle of displayed penitents subjected to various punishments--some, merely humiliating or unpleasant, others ... worse.

Now, in a small city with a major Enclave, her mind pulled, like an untrained horse, trying to drag fantasies and images out of her imagination. After a landing and passing marble busts of naked female forms, Iris stopped outside a heavy door.

"Mistress Kava's parlor," the Candidate said. She pulled a chain gently and Eva heard the jingle of a small bell softly from inside. "Kneel by the door--there--until she fetches you. No noise, no fidgeting, no rising for any reason. Better to wet yourself than be found absent after ringing that bell." There was a small, clean block of white stone by the door, and Eva was lowering herself onto it when the door opened.

Iris who had been most of the way to the stairwell, spun and dropped to her knees as a mature woman in a dark uniform with a severe collar poked her head out and looked first at Eva, who glanced up timidly, before focusing her eyes on the floor, and then at Iris who knelt, looking down.

Eva felt a wave of judgment pass over her. Was her hair perfect? Her posture? Her uniform?

"Go, girl," said the woman to Iris making a flicking motion with her fingers. Iris rose soundlessly and scampered off. The black haired woman, clearly Mistress Kava stepped out and squatted down by Eva, examining her intently. Eva held her breath, determined not to move lest she give any offense.

She felt the woman's fingers brush her chin and cheek, gliding up to tuck a strand of air back behind her ear. Eva fiercely battled the urge to squirm. She felt the woman's fingers glide down her neck to her collar, checking by touch the lay of the fabric.

"Do your knees hurt, kneeling on the stone?" the woman asked--amiably enough, if not exactly warmly.

"A-a little, Mistress Kava," Eva breathed out.

"Good. Discomforts help us remember our station, don't they?"

"Yes, Mistress Kava," Eva said.

"One of my peers once selected a heavy girl as her apprentice and had the child kneel lots to encourage temperance in her diet. She could have used an apparatus to lock her charge's mouth... I might have preferred that solution in her place."

Eva gave the briefest of nods. "Yes, Mistress Kava."

The woman patted her shoulder. "Up--come. We have work before the Festival presentation."

Eva stood as elegantly as she could--which wasn't very--and kept her eyes downcast. Mistress Kava waited by the door and motioned her inside.

"You may look at me, and even address me without being spoken to first to ask questions or for guidance, or for what have you--but only freely inside the studio. When we are out together, you will keep your eyes downcast and hold your tongue unless either I tell you to speak or another high order asks you something. Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress Kava," Eva said. Still keeping her eyes down. She got the impression of a large circular room with several high windows. There were objects--benches, couches, shelves filled with objects and books... tapestries. Her curiosity was intense but she was loathe to look up. She had been told about the protocols, of course--but now it was all a jumble.

Kava tapped her chin. "Face up, girl." she said--her voice light--maybe even gentle. Eva let her eyes rise.

There were three tables with a variety of alchemical-looking glasses and vials on them. Stacks of books, some bound in brilliantly pink exotic leather. She saw racks with implements: whips, crops, paddles, a tawse with a faint glimmer around it. Her eyes widened as she saw a set of glass jars with Mucks squirming in them--the small slimes pushing against the glass eternally trying to find an escape.

She recognized discipline benches and a spanking horse--as well as blunt triangular seat with shackles on the side and a yolk hung by chains so the subject could be sat atop it, her arms and neck secured by the yolk, her ankles chained, so her weight rested ruthlessly on her sex. It was blunt--but in very short order, it would hurt... and continue hurting.

Mistress Kava placed a steadying hand on the small of Eva's back. "Breathe, child," she recommended. "This is my discipline studio. At my level, I rarely see the lower orders of society in it. I've had the children and high-level servants of royalty here--as well as royalty itself. "Sattivan requires penance at all levels of society--not just the lower ones--remember that."

Eva knew--but the idea of a... a princess? A prince? A duchess or a commander naked and squirming in penance on one of the devices gave her a terrible warm rush. The pressure she had abated last night through her forbidden masturbation was back and worse now. A throbbing discomfort.

Her eyes fell on a tapestry hung on a stone wall. It showed a hunt--three naked young women, arms bound behind their backs, being chased through the woods by huntsmen and their steeds--Valiance Stallions--black horses depicted with their enormous... endowments... jutting between their legs--and radiant red eyes.

The tapestry told a story from right to left--the girls set loose to run--the huntsmen giving chase with dogs racing ahead--and the girls, falling afoul of small creeks or being caught in the trees--their buttocks marked with stripes from the switches, faces placed down into the earth, leaving them smudged and muddy as the stallions selected the worst performer at the end to stand over her--her hands and mouth struggling with the cock as the men stood in a circle watching the loser's desperate attempt to sate their mounts lest they remain unsatisfied when she was returned, bound over the back of the steed, to the stables where any of the stallions who were unspent would have her to their requirements.

Horrors--but--she knew that Sattivan both required these performances and that the failure of society to police itself would result in such punishments and the people, as a whole, were quite satisfied with that. Her own smugness at some of the fates was tempered by the knowledge that had she been caught with her hand between her thighs last night, she would deservedly be on the receiving end of one of these ordeals.

Mistress Kava was following her eyes about the chamber with a sense of patience and maybe even satisfaction. The woman's hand stroked the back of her hair softly. Eva knew--had been told--that the Mistress could use her apprentice in any way she liked--touch her however she whished. Punish her apprentice for the mistress's own pleasure if decided to. Even knowing this was coming, the lightly intimate touch gave her chills and an unwanted heat. She had fantasized about some day having her own apprentices--oh, she would be terrible! The fantasies girls--maybe even a submissive boy--available for her pleasure, whatever it might be, had driven her fingers to thrash herself in shameful places.

Now, here as the submissive in the equation, the idea of being toyed with was far more unsettling.

Mistress Kava clapped. Eva jumped slightly.

"Do you know how to prepare a Glasis Root suppository?"

Eva blinked. "Yes Mistress!"

The older woman looked mildly impressed. "The material is on the first table. Make one up--a strong dose. Our first subject is a boy."

Eva felt the heat already in her double--her cheeks and ears burned. In her home town of Havlin, boys had certainly been punished on the festival days--but rarely as... intimately as the girls--the crowd pleasers were always young women! And the chief disciplinarian had been a member of the male order of Sattvan which, she thought, might also have explained the focus.

At the table she quickly stripped the roots and placed them into glass beakers atop burners partially filled with water. She began mixing the gelatin the precipitate would be combined with. Glasses Root--commonly called "Cock Root" was rare--and the specimens she was working with here looked to be first rate versions of their kind. A tea made from the root would reliably give a senior man the erection of a 20 year old but an anal or urethral suppository would cause an uncomfortable erection which could last three to four hours and would not be easily satisfied if the subject was even allowed to touch it.

She carefully strained the mixtures through a cheesecloth and then mixed the remains and strained it again.

"Very nice, girl!" Mistress Kava had appeared over her shoulder. "You do have some training." She examined the conical shaped pill Eva had created, mixed with the doubly strained and purified precipitate before carefully wrapping it in wax paper. Eva fairly beamed with pride.

"... Mistress?" she hazarded a question.

"Yes, girl?" The woman answered lightly. At the other work table Eva could see an odd looking paddle, the "blade" about a foot long of smooth wood with a faint purplish cast and a carefully wrapped handle. She also saw a gleaming metallic panty--some form of female chastity belt--with adorning flourishes.

"What shall I be doing during the festival?"

"You... hmm... you will follow me--provide me with implements. When I release you between applications of discipline, I want you to approach the penitents--touch them in ways that illustrate their vulnerability--you may even lightly comfort them. It adds to the experience." She gave Eva a firm smile. "Lightly. They are chosen to be punished before the onlookers and we shall certainly deliver that."

"Yes Mistress!" Eva answered--and then worried she might sound too enthusiastic, "I shall do my best, Miss."

"I've no doubt," the older woman smiled and again, ran her fingers through Eva's hair.

DECA

The bells tolled Deca--the "crest" of the Morning--when the preparations were done and Mistress Kava was seeing to two servants--boys--both utterly terrified of her--to preparing the implements and material moved to the Parade Grounds.

Eva stood off to the side where she'd been placed, watching with a small amount of awe as her mistress effortlessly terrorized the servants who were bustling about at just under a frantic pace, working to get everything perfect.

"Girl!" Her mistress's voice rang out.

"Eva," she thought, but held her tongue, came to attention, stepping forward.

"Mistress?"

The woman held a leather belt with a leather bound canteen and three glass tubes in individual padded holding rings. "Do you know what the draught is?"

Eva flushed at the attention. Boys were in the room carefully moving a large crate to a pallet at a window where it "It is a drink--uhm--blessed by Sattva--it causes... swelling--erm---" she stammered, unsure of how to put it.

"It increases blood-flow to the erogenous zones causing slight swelling. It also increases the sense of sensation there. It can be used to make a reward coupling more pleasurable. In our case it will make their punishments more memorable."

Eva knew that the slight swelling would also make the subjects more of a spectacle.

"Take this down to the holding pens and make sure our three subjects each take a good drink from that." Eva stood as the woman explained what the glass tubes were for, and gave Eva directions to the pens.

Thankfully, the holding pens were not hard to find. Mistress Kava's penitents were seated on a wooden bench wearing nothing but shackles and a thick cloth undergarment clearly designed for absorbancy. She felt a thrill as she laid eyes on them for the first time.

She had been intensely curious as to who had been important enough to subject to Mistress Kava and while laying eyes on them in this state didn't clear anything up especially, she thrilled to be ... interacting with them--close enough to touch,

The first of the three was a young man--his boyish face fairly handsome and his figure slight. He showed lean muscles and on his shoulder he bore a tattoo--a Legion tattoo--a soldier--a young officer!

From one of the other pens she heard a CRACK--the sound of a paddle and a woman's yelp. Her subjects visibly jumped! They must have been hearing similar all morning.

The second unfortunate--an ebony skinned woman with fierce eyes glared at Eva when she realized the girl was coming to their pen. The woman's breast--large--but firm--had, Eva noted, erect nipples. The young woman glowered dangerously. Fortunately, she was more tightly shackled than the others--a scant 3" of chain for each wrist and ankle and an uncomfortable looking metal collar.

Eva forced herself not to shrink from the intense gaze as she slid open the pen door. It was unlatched--the prisoners were in chains and wouldn't be going anywhere until it was time.

The third girl was a tiny pale thing that spurred Eva's sense of pity. She huddled miserably, squeeing her thighs together as much as she could given the bulky padded undergarment and someone had fastened a leather strap over her mouth. Some alchemy affixed it there since it seemed to easily grip the skin and, Eva was certain, silence the wearer.