This short story is an entry in the 2003 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Edge
The Jian Min
By
Valerie Meilong <meilong@excite.com>
Bsodnam's naked body struggled vainly against the clamps at her wrists and ankles of the company's flexoranium frame. The Chinese Factory-master had set the musclemetal to tight and she was held taut like a guitar string.
It was only fifteen seconds into her sentence of a one-minute flogging and already she was hoarse from screaming. Her pain seemed unbearable, even more than when they had cut out the diseased baby from her twelve months ago.
Her face was covered in sweat. Tears cascaded down her cheeks. Saliva dripped from her mouth, and blood oozed from the lacerations on her buttocks. The Factory-master was a fit man, but even he was panting from his exertions in wielding the three-foot rattan.
The timer suddenly went "bong" and the salve-pad moved silently on its spindly support to cover her bottom-gashes. There was a faint hiss as it soaked up the blood, and then a sweet all-pervading odour as anaesthetic balm was applied.
He lowered the rattan, and glanced at the flimsy undergarments she'd put on the chair when she'd undressed. Good quality for a Tibetan slave to be wearing, a mere jian min. Sexy!
He studied her body in the mirror facing her. Shapely breasts, flat stomach, jet-black spiky pubic hair, nice thighs. She watched his eyes -- and the hardening of his penis.
Two seconds later the pain was quenched. Bsodnam's bottom was glowing erotically now under the influence of the healing balm, but thoughts whirled in her head. The memories were still there. Five seconds later, wonder-gunge oozed and started the healing process. In thirty minutes her bottom would be even smoother than it was before she stripped while he watched.
Momentarily, he wondered if his sentence of one minute was too severe. "Hell, no," he told himself. "Her stupidity cost the company more than a million dollars in lost production and repairs to the auto-line." Operator-error was a problem in cutting-edge manufacturing technology in 2023. You could make the equipment fool-proof but not bloody-fool proof.
She was released at last, and cycled home. Her husband was waiting. He'd heard of her scourging -- Lhasa was a small village. Discreetly he said nothing.
After ten minutes small talk she said casually, "I got a one-minute flogging today."
He kissed her softly.
"You're all right?"
"Yeah. They fix you up afterwards. No pain now. Only memories. They don't fix that."
There was a short silence, then tentatively he said, "Want to ...?"
She nodded, and moments later they were naked on the bed, luxuriating in heavenly foreplay.
Fifteen minutes passed.
"Get inside me, darling. I'm fully ready."
He hesitated, but couldn't resist the temptation. He rolled her over and examined her bottom. It looked and felt perfect.
He raked his nails lovingly over the healed lacerations unaware that this resurrected memories of the flogging.
He was between her legs now, and as he went into her the Factory-master's face sprang into her mind. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too," said her husband naively.
The End
© Copyright Valerie Meilong 30 July 2003
Reviews
Redhawk <redhawk(at)screaminet(dot)com>
Well written story. Could have had more of the caning in it.
Warm Hand Jack
The best futuristic stories amplify contemporary themes; this one does that very well indeed. The uncomfortably believable not-too-distant-future setting is necessary to make the plot credible -- it's not, happily, either the story itself or just an added-on gimmick.
The tale is carefully thought out and neatly composed. (Although one wonders why punishments aren't administered by an on-staff Flogger -- surely the Factory-master himself would be too busy?) It's the closing twist, of course, that makes it a real story, not just a flogging episode, and gives it its edge: her newly-discovered secret love for the lecherous boss-man...and the accompanying hint that, in her agony, she began to discover a dark secret about her wiring.
An excellent entry.
Kent Stoneking <kentls01(at)msn(dot)com>
Interesting exploration of a future society where punishment may not really be punishment, and definitely has some unintended consequences, marred by the gratuitous «diseased baby» reference.