The Judgement Moon Pt. 01

Around the room was an impressive array of disciplinary tools. A rack of paddles adorned one wall. They looked sturdy and lovingly cared for. The small set each had a printed script name of one of her daughters. The three larger ones had small semiprecious stones set into the handles and one had a leather wrapped grip.They bore small inscriptions of order proverbs and they were named. Each paddle had a title on its blade in the olden script: Teardrinker, Chastiser of Brats, and ShameScolder.

Kalvan was discomfited at being served as though he was a person of great import. Surely, it was a welcome change of pace from his life at the tower, but still felt like a bit of a fraud, being taken as some royal squire when he was really more of a serving boy.

But he sat and endured the fawning of the daughters while their mother worked on her grand feast! He really did hope his mistress could stay at least a little time--he felt guilty at the thought of him being pulled away to ride off to whatever events required her and leaving the extensive dinner untouched.

"Mother wanted me to deliver you this!" Esti held a cushion delivered as a 'royal pillow' with a fine leather strap coiled on it. A tin of tenderizing paste set next to it. "If any of us displease you at all," she said, with a smile, "Especially Heather--" she added, seemingly on her own initiative, "don't hesitate to use it. It's been oiled recently!" she said.

Kalvan felt himself blush as he accepted the gift. Since their mother was a devotee of the order, she probably did  think it would be beneficial for him to chastise her daughters! It was the daughters themselves seeming accepting of the proposition that surprised him. He'd have been mortified--but, of course, the girls of the household seemed to be used to discipline and as a 'footman' of the Dame Knight, being intimately punished by him would be preferable to what their mother might do if she felt they had offended their guest!

After a time, Heather came to him. They'd started a fire in the hearth. "Mother says Father is expected well after nightfall," she said. "Do you have a guess as to when your mistress will return?"

She was kneeling before him. Her hair shone in the firelight.  

"I don't," he said. "I've no fear for her, but she could come now. She could come tomorrow. She's relentless."

Heather nodded, swallowed, and took a gulp of air.

"What?" Kalvan asked.

"My sisters have prepared a room should you or your mistress need to stay," she said. Kalvan felt an urge to protest. These people were not destitute--but he could only imagine them preparing to host the Dame Knight would stretch them badly.

He also knew that protesting would only fan the flames of their mother's feelings about being good hosts. If the father was here, he might talk sense about the waste. His mistress was well used to bedding rough, while on campaign. He doubted she would expect a bed--if she planned to sleep here rather than riding through the night she might well insist on the barn!

Something else was troubling the girl, though.

"Heather?" he asked. She looked down, shifted uncomfortably. 

"May I show you the room?" she asked. Her voice had a quality to it that inclined him to say yes, and so he stood and took her hand. She still wore only the simple apron and old panties. While it was doubtless embarrassing, it was hardly naked. He followed her out of the room and up a stair. The top of the house was smaller than the ground floor, but it appeared to have three rooms. He was afraid he'd have to bear the burden of awkwardly being given the master bed, but he found instead a rather pleasant room, clearly belonging to two of the girls. The beds had been pressed together to produce a single sleeping surface of some size. She led him in.

"Here, Master Kalvan," she said. She sat on the bed, a bit pensively.

Kalvan cleared his throat. The oil lamps cast the room in warm light. "What is it?"

"My mother feels... appalled, was the word she used, that you had to encounter me... punished." She was blushing furiously. He, however, was virtually certain where this was going--especially if their mother felt that discipline was an art form as well as a general domestic good. And while not a member of the order, it was, after all, the banner under which his mistress rode.

"She isn't--" he started.

"She is!" Heather was mortified! "Either you or her," she said dismally.

"And you prefer?" he asked. He very well knew this dance. He'd never been subjected to it, being a boy when growing up under his mother--but he could surely see his mistress subjecting it to him now.

Either the house visitor performs the discipline or the woman of the house shall do it and make it as far worse as she is able.

"You, young master." she was ringing her hands--her voice was choked.

"You brought me here so as not to have it have it done in front of your sisters?" he guessed.

"They know," she said miserably. "They're giggling about it in the kitchen right now." He heard tears in her voice--not immediate--but asking him this was terribly humiliating! He came over and sat next to her. She trembled a little, but didn't pull away.

"I did not come here to make you more miserable," he said gently. He placed a hand on her back and she slumped against him. "I can explain to your mother--"

She shook her head. "She's not... vengeful, young master," she said miserably. "Just strict and she's so happy to have a representative of the order in her--"

"I'm not," he said. "Not exactly. It's a bit compli--"

She cut him off. "The best possibility here, young master--"

"Kalavan," he said. "Erm--Master Kalavan if you have to. I'm really not an authority figure in my lady's house--" He was glad the room was dark enough not to show his blush.

She nodded, a bit weakly. "You can do as she wants? Punish me--" she swallowed. "She'll expect it to be thorough."

He wasn't surprised at that. A half-hearted job of disciplining the girl would be worse than nothing. Still, being thorough didn't mean being terribly severe--not if done right.

"I can do it, Heather," he said. "And I can ensure it's ... very unpleasant."

He was surprised at the amount of relief she showed when he said this. Rather than fear of his punishment, she seemed just utterly relieved that he'd taken on this chore and her mother would be satisfied--probably glowing and bragging to her friends--about her service to the order and the order's generous service to her!

He chuckled. "I warn you--my mistress has given me extensive lessons in disciplining," he said. "I'll likely be graded by her as well as your mother."

Heather nodded. "Yes, sir. I... was being punished for misbehavior. The fact that you had to escort me home with sodden pants is my doing as well." He imagined she was terribly humiliated by that too--but he didn't push back. He stroked her hair.

"We can start by disrobing, Heather," he said. "Before I punish you, I wish to have a look at your bottom."

THIRD RIDING, RIDING SQUARE : JASNI

Jasni Mendower glared at her stepmother with unalloyed fury. The woman sat primly on the patio balcony of the Mendower Chateau overlooking a deep ravine speckled with houses and flattened areas with small farms. If she looked hard, she could see the family's silver mine. The interminable woman had been married to her father for THREE DAYS and she was already working to ruin Jasni's life.

Mrs. Mendower: "Honestly, Jasni, it's only a year. I want your horizons broader than," she gestured out at the scenic landscape, "a provincial town in the Hermanic territories."

If her try at a reasonable tone and an "adult" approach to the sabotage she was plotting against Jasni was meant to calm the girl, it had the opposite effect.

"Provincial!??" Jasni had to gulp air just to keep talking. IT WAS OUTRAGEOUS!! "This town is built on my silver mine!"

"I know," sighed the older woman. "Jasni, your father agrees. You need some exposure to the Sattvic lands... and some better manners," she added softly.

"I HEARD THAT!" Jasni howled. More exposure to the Sattvic lands was entirely what Jasni did NOT want. Sattvic literature was carefully controlled in the Hermanic territories and while what bits of it she'd gotten her hands on, the idea of actually LIVING under Sattvic discipline was unthinkable!

Now her beast of a stepmother was going to SEND HER to the stupid city she'd grown up in so that her dear daughter (and eventual inheritress of her father's mine!) would understand more of the world and family she had acquired with this ridiculous marriage!

"I am not going, Tanalee," Jasni snapped, using her stepmother's given name because she hoped it would enrage her. "That's final. This isn't your shitty little religious order. You can't just order me around like a slave or spank me! I'm NINETEEN!"

"Ancient," said her stepmother. "Well, the governess I've hired is here and I suggest you go meet with her. She's in the fancy parlor."

Jasni was boiling with indignation. Not only had her stepmother conspired with her father--probably using some Order of Sattva mind game to twist him 'round her thin little wrists--to convince him to hire a governess from the lands of the Crown and Throne and this 'governess' was to shepherd her to the "riding" where her stepmother's sister apparently lived as some kind--some kind of-- FARMER!?

The conniving woman also, no doubt, planned to have her bitch-sister try to terrorize her into signing over the family inheritance or something.

She had stalked to the fancy parlor where guests of HER FATHER were met--not guests of her new, ersatz mother--to tell the old biddy to be on the first carriage out. She was shocked to see a prim young girl about the same age as her, sitting with the same kind of severe posture her stepmother used. The girl sat next to a large black traveling bag that looked like it had all sorts of compartments and flaps on it.

The governess must have a secretary, she thought. She didn't see the older woman, so she stalked up to the girl. "Where is the governess?" she asked acidly.

The girl looked her up and down. "Emily Candlewick," she introduced herself, standing. "You are Jasni. I'm pleased to--"

"I'm not!" Jasni snapped. "Just get your employer and tell her to get you and her the fuck out of my father's house!"

The girl didn't look put out by this.

"I doubt she's going to do that," she said, "having made such long-term arrangements to get into it."

Jasni paused. Could this girl be--No--NO!

"TANALEE!!" she shouted, calling for her stepmother. Oh, thought Jasni, tell me you didn't!

Her stepmother was coming. She appeared in the doorway and then held a hand partially covering her face and touching the bridge of her nose.

"My apologies, Emily," she said, her voice slightly hushed. "I am SO embarrassed--"

Emily looked unconcerned. "I will handle it from here, Mrs. Mendower," she said, evenly. "She is hardly the first girl to be reticent to meet a new governess."

Oh, that bitch--she HAD. SHE HAD HIRED this little bitch to be her watcher. This was not--not at all--going to be allowed to happen. It ended here, and she felt certain that after her father knew what his new wife had tried to do, he might rethink the whole union! Throw that bitch out on her bottom!

SIX HOURS LATER

Jasni stared petulantly out the window of the coach as it bumped along the mountain path, leaving the Hermanic territories and beginning the entry into core-lands of the Crown and Throne.

Jasni was sore in several places. Her seat, first and foremost, but also her wrist and shoulder.

The humiliation of being man-handled, there was no other word for it, by the girl her own age, was quickly eclipsed by the girl upending her and pinning Jasni over her lap and then clearing her skirt and panties, while one of Jasni's arms was wrenched behind her back. The horrible girl shifted a leg to trap one of Jasni's legs and she had proceeded to deliver a very hard and very long beating with the palm of her hand to Jasni's bottom.

Jasni had gone from fury to disbelief to fear--and when she started pleading--before the spanking started--she had realized with horror that she was going to cry.

Then she had. It hadn't stopped the spanking. Emily fucking Candlewick had spanked her while delivering a scolding about obedience and comportment or something like that. Jasni couldn't pay attention as she fought like a wildcat to escape the grip, but the governess girl was strong and Jasni didn't have any leverage.

When Jasni ran out of strength, Emily continued the affront a bit longer and finally deemed her humiliated and beaten enough. Then she'd bundled Jasni into the waiting carriage and took a single chest of clothes. No cosmetics. No jewelry. And only a handful of books from the family library.

She had told Tanalee that this was decided upon and it was better for everyone if they were off without more disruptive goodbyes. She promised that Jasni would write. And with that, Jasni was taken from her home, leaving the bitch who'd married her father behind.

Thus far, Emily had sat calmly in the seat across from Jasni reading a slim manual.

"I've got to pee," Jasni said into the comparative quiet of the rattling carriage.

"You may," said Emily, "I will have the carriage master stop and you will do so in the grass to the rear of it. I will be watching."

"WHAT!?" Jasni gasped.

"To ensure you are not bitten by a snake," said Emily Candlewick smoothly. "They have some in these parts."

"I'm NOT going to pee in the grass." Jasni informed her.

"Your panties will be fine then," said Emily, still reading. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, and I am perfectly fine if you are uncomfortable."

Jasni nearly cried again, in frustration and anger--but she restrained herself.

"What are you going to do when I go to the authorities and tell them you've kidnapped me?" she asked, sourly. She would too. See what this bitch did then?

"I have a writ of parentis signed by both your father and stepmother. Legally you are effectively my daughter," said Emily, delicately licking a finger and turning the page.

Jasni had never heard of such a thing and it sounded horrific. But she could see her stepmother doing something like that.

She folded her arms and glared at Emily, trying to bore holes in her skull with sheer resentment.

Time passed. It was near FELLS, Jasni guessed, and later into the afternoon when Emily pulled on a string that connected to a bell by the carriage master and heard a change in the cadence of the horses and the direction of travel.

"We are stopping. You are going to urinate as I described. Then we are both going to eat. Then we will resume travel," Emily said.

Jasni opened her mouth, but Emily held up a finger.

"I haven't discussed the corrections you'll have or that you will be riding the rest of the way unclothed--but I expect both will be required."

"Why!?" demanded Jasni, horrified.

"Because I expect you to throw another tantrum and resist voiding your bladder--and that you will attempt to run off, thinking you can escape me and make your way back to your home." Emily said this as matter-of-factly as if she'd been discussing the weather.

Jasni looked daggers at her. Her arms were folded tightly. Emily didn't look up, but kept reading. The carriage stopped. Jasni sat stonily as Emily opened the door and gestured for her exit.

"You can have a few seconds head start," said Emily. "I expect I can give you ten or fifteen count."

Jasni made a sound that might have been a choked moan or a low growl, but she furiously pulled herself out of the carriage. Emily had walked around back.

The surrounding land was fairly flat. There was a structure that Jasni recognized vaguely as a windmill in the distance and some animals in a fenced area, but it was otherwise desolate. She could run for hours out here.

"Take your panties off," said Emily. She was drawing her's down.

Jasni's face fired with blush! She--no! Not... out here. Not in front of this girl! Just--NO!

Emily placed her underpants--some kind of weird heavy grade material that Jasni didn't recognize--on the wagon.

"If necessary, I can take them down over your protests," Emily suggested.

"Muck off," Jasni growled. She took reached under her dress and hooked her thumbs in. What were they going to do for a privacy shield?? This was wide open grassland. Surely...

Emily watched her, looking supremely unimpressed.

"There's going to be an inquest," Jasni told her. The authorities would get this sorted out, she was sure. One nineteen-year-old couldn't legally be the "mother" of another one. It didn't matter what paper she had!

Emily held out her hands for Jasni's underpants and Jasni evaded her hand and placed her panties on the rear axel of the carriage. Her governess, finally, looked annoyed. "Do what I do," said Emily, and squatted, gathering her skirts up out of the way.

Emily looked on in horror. She COULD NOT. She had seen squat toilets in some of the homes down in the town--but in the business round proper, not to mention her own home, there were sewers and pipes--plumbing.

Then Emily was--she was urinating. Because her skirts were all held up in front, Jasni didn't have a good look, but there was no question about it.

"Jasni--"

"IDon'tHaveTo," she said quickly, her face flaring.

"Yes," Emily said, firmly, "you do--and you will do it here or in a much less pleasant circumstance.

Jasni was still sore from the spanking and she didn't think the governess could really make her pee inside the carriage--but she wasn't totally sure the bitch couldn't.

She got down and, embarrassed beyond endurance, she managed it--looking away when the gross stream came out of her. There was no towel or scrub or paper--so after staying in the squat, red faced, for a few moments she glanced up.

"Jiggle yourself, Jasni," ordered Emily.

"What?"

"To dislodge the droplets. Shake your bottom. Jiggle it. Again, if you need help--"

Humiliated, Jasni did it. At this point, Emily looked satisfied and let her up. The meal was simple travel fare and Emily made certain Jasni drank more from the skin than she wanted to. When they were traveling again, Emily got Jasni's attention with a faint noise that drew Jasni's eyes from the darkening sky outside.

"We are going to be together for something approaching a year," said Emily. "I have been tolerant of your behavior thus far--but I will not continue to be."

Jasni shifted and nodded, uncomfortably. "You want me to shut up and be a good little slave?" she asked, her biting tone softened by a quaver under it.

"I want you to be less of a little brat," Emily said, amiably. Jasni squirmed and looked away. "The Hermanic territories were formerly the Hermanic Kingdoms before the consolidation and conquest. You learned of it in your studies, I trust?"

Jasni had. The showdown between the two predominant empires--and the defeat of the Hermanic Kingdoms. There had been a decade of humbling, yes--but then they were established as the territories. Still, though, the Hermanic roots ran deep.

Jasni nodded.

"The territories are ... a kind of rot. The Throne and Crown tolerates and covers your behavorial debt, but your stepmother plans a more traditional household. Your birth mother is at a Lianios Convent because she got herself in metaphysical trouble," Emily continued.

"You don't know what you're talking about, " snapped Jasni.

"I know what was presented to me as facts," said Emily reasonably. "There are a number of ways to mishandle karma and your birth mother found most of them. This is not uncommon among the merchant and high-trade classes. More common than you likely think, anyway.

Jasni folded her arms and looked out of the window. She remembered her mother, three years ago, grown pale and wan--beset by nightmares that coupled unwanted orgasms with incontinence. The physician had prescribed rest and a change of climate. He had also quietly suggested a round of penance for her, and she had taken the step of creating a union gap when she left. Thus allowing her husband to remarry and, if after her recovery he wanted her back, she would co-wife with the new woman.