Slave Woman's Grave Keeper Pt. 06

After perhaps ten blows, Morgana stopped. She lowered the baton and bent somewhat, wheezing. The beating seemed to have been more physically demanding for the sorceress than the slave, who already was straightening her back again, sitting tall and proud once more.

"So, you see," Morgana whispered between breaths. "The pain slut knows her role." She raised the spanking baton in order to point back at the table on the other side of the room. "Go fetch the tawse."

Evanescent turned to the table and wrapped her trembling fingers around the handle of the tawse. Unlike the light flexible baton, the tawse was a heavy, fat strip of textured leather. Evanescent turned and presented it to Morgana, who simply shook her head and pointed at Evanescent.

"Just as Kapitolina has a role, so do you, as the future Queen's Witch," Morgana said, slowly regaining her breath, "you must know how to use your pawns and you must be unafraid to do so." Morgana turned to look at the kneeling slave woman. "Beat her."

Evanescent took a step towards Kapitolina and began to raise her arm, but then stopped. "I understand your point, Sorceress, and my intuition suggests that to inflict further injury upon this slave is not..."

"I said to beat her!!" Morgana screamed, her voice ragged.

Evanescent flinched. She glared at the older witch, thinking of an appropriate response.

"There is still a year before you become the Queen's Witch. And if you cannot pass these simple tests, then I can guarantee you that you will never become the Queen's Witch," Morgan spoke, her eyes cold and narrow. "Beat her! You need to make her cry!"

Evanescent set her jaw and looked back at Kapitolina, who remained perfectly still.

"Beat her!" Morgana said again, grinning as she watched Evanescent steel herself.

"Sorry, Kapitolina," Evanescent mumbled under her breath as she stepped up to the kneeling slave and raised her arm. Her first strike slapped loudly across the woman's shoulder blades over the red welts that Morgana had left behind. The momentum of the tawse was such that Kapitolina was pushed forward against the post where her wrists were secured. The tawse was not designed to cut the skin as something thinner might. As Evanescent pulled her arm back for a second blow the area of impact began to bloom red. Regardless, Kapitolina endured the blow and quickly sat up straight once again, preparing for another stroke.

Such was the nature of society, that a woman of Evanescent's position and power would be trained during the course of her life to deliver a corporal punishment to an errant slave efficiently and with skill. That, and the slave woman's successful resistance of any show of emotion only spurred Evanescent on striking blow after blow strategically and with growing cruelty. All the while, Morgana cackled with glee.

Slowly, over the course of the beating, Evanescent's face began to redden. It was not just from the exertion to beat the woman, but also from anger. Evanescent did not like to lose even in a battle of wills between a Domme and a Sub.

Finally, a blow landed before Kapitolina had sufficiently regained her firm stance and she collapsed against the post - her knees sliding out from beneath her, sprawling slightly to her side.

"Enough!" Morgana screamed, a cruel smile painting her face.

Evanescent stood breathing heavily, her arm trembling from the effort. She watched as Kapitolina pushed herself back off the post and reclaimed her proper position. Her upper back was bright red, sweat dripping from her hair and running down her sides, still, her face was as even as always.

Morgana continued to laugh as Evanescent dropped the tawse to the floor. "That you have failed, Evanescent, is no surprise. But it is not for your lack of skill. Unchain the pain slut!"

Evanescent paused a moment, working hard to regain her breath, then stepped around the slave woman to pull the manacle chains off the hooks. As she moved Kapitolina's face was tracking Evanescent's steps. Her mouth was turned up in a smirk, and even though her face was downcast as her training required, the slave was watching Evanescent's eyes, seemingly basking in some sort of sick victory.

"Kapitolina won't cry for you," Morgana croaked. "She's tough. She's trained for this type of treatment. Smell her! She reeks of cunt juice. She is a tool to be used in this very manner. And as I said, as the Queen's Witch, you must be prepared to use all of the tools available to you. Sometimes you must even break your tools."

There was a clatter at the door of the room and a hooded slave woman rolled in a cart carrying some heavy looking metal devices.

Evanescent opened the cuffs, freeing Kapitolina's wrists. The slave pulled them into her lap, rubbing fresh compression marks, flexing her fingers. Evanescent could not look the slave in the eyes. She had just beaten this woman to satisfy Morgana's requirements and she felt a bit sick to her stomach. It was not so much the act of wielding the tawse that disturbed her, but rather the jolt of power that she had felt using it. With every stroke applied, she felt that she found the desire to continue grew.

"Slave, would you consider yourself a horny slut?" Morgana asked.

Kapitolina seemed to shift a bit, perched as she was, turning an eye to the new cart rolling up next to her. "Yes, Mistress Sorceress. I'm am trained to be ready and willing at all times for any client who may wish to engage with my talents," the slave woman said in a breathy voice that seemed to exude sex.

"Do you like to cum?" Morgana asked.

"Yes, Mistress Sorceress," the kneeling slave woman breathed. "That is my purpose in life. Would you like for me to cum for you now?" Evanescent noticed that Kapitolina's hands slid down between her legs, slowly stroking the flesh there.

From her perspective, across the slave's lap, Evanescent could see the cart more clearly and the devices laying on top. The slave's head seemed to have turned to look at the cart as well. Kapitolina elicited a moan so sincere as she stroked herself that she sounded as though she were balancing on the edge of ecstacy. The moan felt as though it could eclipse all thought other than the beautiful slave's writhing body. However, Evanescent noticed that Kapitolina's eyes had focused in on the cart, and from them there was a flicker of fear.

"Rona, please set up the gauntlets on the hooks," Morgana said to the robed slave pushing the cart.

"Yes, Mistress Sorceress," Rona said. She stepped around and picked the first object off the cart. The light from the torches flashed off its cruel metallic surface dappling Kapitolina's abdomen with small, tortured points of illumination. The object was a silver metal cylinder with three rows of narrow, finger-long sharp spikes spaced evenly around the curved surface. The top of the cylinder was rounded off with a sturdy, steel eyelet at the apex.

"'Gauntlets'?" Evanescent thought. "Were those meant to hold Kapitolina's hands?"

Rona lifted the gauntlet to the hook on the side of the whipping post. She slipped the hook through the steel eyelet. Evanescent noticed that Kapitolina had stopped petting herself. She too was transfixed by the object now hanging above her.

Rona stepped around the post with the second gauntlet and proceeded to hang it on the opposing hook. Evanescent noticed Morgana flick her wrist out of the corner of her eye. The gauntlet wobbled slightly in Rona's hands causing one of the spikes to graze the tender flesh on Rona's forearm where her robe had slid back.

Rona yelped and a thin pink slash decorated her arm. Quickly, a drop of blood coalesced and began to run down into her sleeve.

"Clumsy slut!" Morgana cursed. "The points are sharp, aren't they?"

"Sorry, Mistress Sorceress," Rona said quickly, making sure the gauntly was properly hung, then pressing her finger to the cut. "Yes, Mistress Sorceress, very sharp."

Evanescent looked more closely at the gauntlets. In particular, she looked at the bottoms near where Kapitolina was destined to insert her hands. She was relieved to see that there were no cuffs included to tighten about her wrists. Particularly, nothing like the cuffs that Pet had installed which were destined to house her hands forever.

Kapitolina was examining the gauntlets as well. They dangled ominously before her eyes. Eyes which had lost all of their confidence - all of their conceit. Her gentle self-stimulation had completely stopped.

"How often do you masturbate each day, Kapitolina?" Morgana asked as she began to step around behind the slave.

"I spend most of my day aroused." Kapitolina twisted to try and see what Morgana was doing. "As prescribed by the Rites of Arritus that you administered..." Evanescent thought she detected an accusatory tone in Kapitolina's voice.

"Place your hands in the gauntlets, Kapitolina," Morgana said in a calm voice.

Kapitolina had started to breathe in short bursts. She slowly turned back to face the spikey cylinders. Her face cast in a frown. She ducked a little to try to see inside the openings, then began to raise her hands up towards the dark bases. Evanescent could see her hands shaking.

"Reach inside the gauntlets, slave. You will feel a cross bar. Wrap the bar tightly in your fist." Evanescent felt the blood drain from her face when she saw Morgana began to quietly spin her own wrists. Ethereal dark threads began to coalesce with each turn. This was not going to end well.

"Do you feel the crossbars?" Morgana asked, a smile spreading across her face. Evanescent could tell she already knew the answer.

"Yes," Kapitolina whimpered. "Yes... please, Mistress Sorceress..."

Morgana mumbled something under her breath. Evanescent heard a sound of metal twisting and quickly looked back towards the kneeling slave woman. Kapitolina attempted to jerk her hands out of the gauntlets, but it was already too late. They just rattled from the hooks they hung from.

"No!!" Kapitolina screamed staring in horror as the steel cylinders seemed to shrink around her captured fists. "No!" Her pleas quickly turned into screams of terror.

Evanescent raised a hand to her forehead in horror, certain that at any moment she would hear the crushing of bone as the cylinders continued to shrink, or perhaps a sudden burst of blood as the slave woman's hands were ruined. Morgana continued her chanting - the dark filaments of magic swirling about her own oscillating hands.

There was no blood and no crunching of bone, but still the gauntlets squeezed more and more tightly. Kapitolina's forearms seemed to be pulled further into the cylinders. Her screams grew louder and tears streamed down her face. It was soon quite clear that there was no longer room in the cylinders to house her hands. In fact, the spikey cylinders seemed no more than cruel caps to the stumps of Kapitolina's forearms.

Morgana stopped weaving the spell. Her shoulders slumped a bit, winded. Kapitolina was jerking her arms in an apparently useless attempt to reclaim her hands from within the metal gauntlets, screaming and cursing. Rona had taken a few steps back from the whipping post - a look of horror on her face, still holding the bloody gash on her arm. Evanescent felt sick. Her knees felt weak.

"Silence, slave!" Morgana croaked. "All your screaming is giving me a headache. I spent a lot of effort ensuring that the spell would cause you no pain. So, shut up!"

Kapitolina turned to look at Morgana for a second, fear clearly coloring her face. "Please! Please take them off. I need my hands to do my job!" She looked at Evanescent hoping for some sort of sympathy.

"Those are your hands now, slave!" Morgana said with a toothy smile. "Dangerous. Lethal. That metal is your skin. Those spikes are your fingers. So sturdy, so durable! So heavy! You will not want to touch yourself anymore!"

"No, please!" Kapitolina cried.

"Don't worry, sweet slave. I've had a special room set up for you down in the dungeon. Chains from the ceiling will hold your hands up and away from your body so you don't injure yourself. Sorry about the lack of windows, but you will be well taken care of." Morgana glanced at Evanescent who stood frozen, trembling. "It can be like a coffin down there. Wouldn't want to leave her without a little human interaction to keep her mind in an acceptable state."

Morgana hobbled over to where Kapitolina knelt. The slave flinched when Morgana reached up to touch her cheek, but she had little room to move.

Morgana then presented her finger to Evanescent. "Do you see her tears? I was able to make her cry." Kapitolina's back was now hunched over and her shoulders bounced with silent sobs. Morgana turned to Evanescent. "Next it will be your turn!"

Kapitolina was mumbling, begging the Queen's Witch to reverse the spell. Evanescent knew though that spells for destruction were vastly more simple than spells for creation. Kapitolina's hands were gone. She felt bile beginning to rise in her throat and placed a hand over her mouth for fear that she might throw up.

Morgana simply laughed. "Rona! Show the Princess' Witch the metal hood!"

Evanescent almost choked when she tried to swallow, her mouth was so dry. Still she was unable to form any words.

"I wrote that little spell that shrank the gauntlets and fused them to Kapitolina's flesh and bones," Morgana explained. "I'm going to give that spell to you, Evanescent. In fact, this is your assignment."

Rona had pulled a heavy, metal object from the cart - a large sphere of some sort. With a bit of a struggle she managed to locate a seam, allowing her to open the sphere like a book to reveal the smooth inner surface hollowed out to hold an unfortunate individual's head.

"I want you to improve on my spell to perform a similar type of task. In two week's time, your spell should be able to shrink this metal hood and fuse it to Kapitolina's head."

Rona had closed the halves back together. Evanescent now noticed a small circular valve at about the location where the victim's mouth would be. A smattering of holes and two horizontal slots higher up seemed appropriate for the victim's nose and eyes, although the slots, with the lower edge bent in and flowing under the upper, were not oriented in a way to allow the victim to be able to see.

"If your spell works, and the slave survives the experience, and we see tears drain through the eye slots, I will be convinced that you are sufficiently skilled in both magic and disposition to succeed as the future Queen's Witch," Morgana paused, looking over at Kapitolina who now drooped slack hanging from her bound "hands", completely unconscious. "If you fail, then I will have to declare you unfit for the position."

Evanescent opened her mouth, but continued to cover it with her hand. For it was true. Morgana could strip Evanescent of her position of power as the Princess' Witch. But the threat had even darker implications. Evanescent knew too much about the regime - its structure, the way it worked, its secrets. The regime could not afford to allow someone with Evanescent's skills and knowledge to exist outside the walls of the castle. To be stripped of her position as the Princess' Witch carried a serious sentence. She would be put to death.

0 - 0 - 1 - 19:30 - Divinica

Divinica, the Holy Mother of the Kingdom of Joppa, stood before her congregation of the Holy Women of the Sacred Hand delivering the morning call to worship.

"We have received word that Princess Merkeza of Cowen, the West Virgin, is now making the journey to Joppa-by-the-Sea. As you know, upon her arrival and by law, she and the Prince will spend a year of mandatory courtship ensuring that they are compatible for marriage. If the Prince accepts her after a year, the Princess will deliver her dowry and they will be wed.

"As a part of the lead up to the wedding celebration and in honor of our future Queen, I would like to announce the restoration of our very own glorious and historical clock tower!"

No voices were heard, of course, but a ripple of robes could be heard throughout the hall and Divinica could see many of her flock breaking position. She was feeling generous, today. She would not require penance for these indiscretions. This news was really exciting!

"The clock tower was built long before peak oil, relying on that antiquated fuel source, unfortunately it had to be unplugged. For the past 80 years it has stood literally frozen in time. In about nine months, after a number of renovations that will change the way it is powered - one hundred percent biofuel - the hands will once again sweep across the minutes and hours of the day." Divinica looked across the crowd of faces with a large smile on her face. "And you are really going to love the beautiful tones issued by the clock reporting the current time every quarter hour."