The Toymaster's Castle

Chapter Six - The Whipping Girl

I was basically out of it for a couple of minutes and, when I came round, I realised that there was somebody else in the room. She was completely wrapped in the cling film stuff and, as he cut her arms and legs free, he handcuffed them to an X-shaped wooden cross on the far side of the room so that she was looking away from us.

And when she was fastened securely in place, he cut off the rest of the cling film and the tattered remains of her clothes. Then he collected the rubbish and, without saying anything, he walked out of the room and closed the door.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Constance... well... Constantia now, I suppose." From now on, I realised I was going to be doing exactly what he said, even if it did mean changing what I called myself.

"I'm Susan," she replied.

We chatted for a bit - kind of ignoring the totally unreal situation we found ourselves in. I mean... the thought did vaguely cross my mind that I could untie her but I quickly told myself not to be so stupid.

At last the total bastard reappeared. He was carrying a mug of coffee. "This is Susan," he told me in this appallingly casual voice. "Susan is my property - bought and paid for with expensive drugs. Now, a couple of weeks ago, she stole something off me and attempted to abscond. Her own pathetic attempts were no more successful than your own."

He took a sip of his coffee.

"Now, normally," he went on, "I would have had her tortured to death in front of my other girls, 'pour encourager les autres', but I have decided that, on this occasion, I might be able to use her in a different way."

He strolled over to the rack on the wall and selected a cane. It looked horribly thick and heavy

"Do you know the origins of the phrase 'Whipping boy', Constantia?"

"No, Master."

"In the Middle Ages, it was considered inappropriate to physically chastise the future king and so a companion was selected for him. When the prince misbehaved, this 'whipping boy' took the punishment on his behalf. Susan is going to act as your 'whipping boy'... except that we are going to add our own particular twist. You are going to be doing the whipping for me. You are going to beat her six times."

"Are you mad?" I gasped, way beyond shocked at the suggestion. "I'm not going to hit her."

"Yes, you are," he told me gently. He put his coffee cup down on a convenient table and then delivered a vicious blow to Susan's bottom, making her yelp in pain. Her legs gave way and she collapsed onto her wrists as her whole body twitched and spasmed.

"I am, of course, prepared to beat her to death, should you remain obstinate," he told me, picking up his coffee cup as if nothing had happened. "And now, of course, you are going to beat her seven times." He took another casual sip. "Do you see how this is going to work?"

I had to stare at him for several seconds before I managed to answer, "Yes, Master."

"Up you get, then." He gave me a hand to help me to my feet and then handed me the cane. "So, seven strokes," he said, "and if I am not completely satisfied that you are using all your strength for any blow, you will, of course, restart from the beginning. Do you understand?"

There were tears streaming down my face as I gasped, "Yes, Master."

"Stay on her bottom," he told me. "She has the typical emaciated frame of a junkie whore but she has, at least, a little padding there. It will probably be enough to protect her bones from bruising."

I stood there and stared at my target for a long time, just not believing what he was making me do. "I'm sorry, Susan," I murmured at last and she gave the slightest nod of understanding. Then I delivered the first blow.