The Beaded Quirt

originally posted May 22, 2006

Two days ago, I purchased a five-bladed quirt. The straps are supple, tanned and oiled to a light brown color. The handle is slender, its leather, too, light brown and braided. Following the pattern of the plaits, it is tastefully beaded with smooth, polished beads of colored glass. It catches the light nicely, the beads alternate between translucent aqua and garnet red. I did not, of course, purchase it for myself. It is a Lady's tool, constructed with a feminine hand in mind. The handle, as mentioned, is slender. The balance is precisely weighted. For the record, though it is designed to be used by a Lady, it remains a wicked implement of discipline. The straps are broad, manufactured to make a woman leap and writhe in pain, welt her terribly, not permanently mark, maim or disfigure her. The Lady Jenny has two hand maidens. From time to time, they will require discipline. Such a quirt, the blades folded back, would not look out of place pendant from her belt. It was made to complement the robes of concealment. It is easily seen by the slaves under her discipline, but not something that would command undue attention amidst the many pleats and folds, the embroidery and brocade, of a lofty woman's robes. When I asked the Lady Jenny if she had occasion to use it, she assured me she did. I lifted the hem of her dark-haired maiden's garment to see her handiwork. I thought I would assess the markings I was sure to find there and, if necessary, impart instruction on how the leather might better be laid. Elise's backside, indeed her hips, ass, lower back and the back of her legs were unstriped. It was then that I was informed the quirt was indeed used - to prop the window in her chambers open. There are many things that could be used to prop a window open. A board or a sturdy stick, for example. She might command one of her maidens to stand, bent at the waist, with her head wedged beneath the bottom eave of the window and the sill. Using a tool for a purpose which it was not intended, particularly when other tools are well at hand, did not sit well with me. I decided she needed instruction.Well did I instruct her on the proper use of the quirt after she bared herself and assumed the position. It is difficult, but not impossible, to disfigure a girl with such a tool. I showed her a few different types of strokes that I have found effective over the years, alerting her attention to such things as the angle of descent, velocity at the point of contact and placement of the strike. I did not review the subtle psychologies involved in beating a recalcitrant slave. There is only so much a woman's mind can absorb in one day, particularly when she is having her ass beat. The instruction came to an end. She was sobbing and questioning the rationale behind the whole affair. She is a free woman. She is entitled to question. She is not entitled to answers, however. She may be free, but she is yet a woman. There was another matter, past the instruction, I had yet to deal with. Her blonde maiden, the girl 'Samantha', was mildly displeasing. She took a defiant tone that, while humorous, was unacceptable. For this, I laid the blame at the feet of her mistress. She must keep her maidens in line. It was for that purpose I bought her the quirt. That she was the first to feel it heat her backside is a bit ironic, but apt I think. That instruction, however, as stated, was at an end. This was a different matter. As she was nude and already in the position, it was convenient to resolve the matter then and there. "You were told to beg a beating," I informed her. "I. I. I can't," she stammered. I struck her. "You were told," I repeated, "to beg a beating." She was told to do this shortly after the mouthiness of her blonde slave. "Please. Please do not beat me further!" she cried. "Please. Please! Master, please!" she pleaded. I drew the five 'fingers' of the whip lightly about her backside. As a free woman, she is permitted time to realize that her entreaties will be ignored. After a time, she realized this fact on her own. My resolve to beat her for the mismanagement of her maidens would not be tempered. At a loss, she begged. She did not beg as a woman begs when she yearns to feel the dominance of a man. She begged in a cowardly fashion, cringing and steeling herself for the inevitable. She realized that if she did not beg, I would beat her regardless - one cruel stroke at a time until I had what I wanted from her. She may not be a genius on two worlds as she likes to fashion herself, but she is not completely stupid. Her ass went up and her shoulders remained low. It was then that I truly disciplined her. The timing of the strokes was not an issue nor, truly, the placements. The blows simply rained down upon her until I felt it was enough. Fifteen strokes did I administer her for discipline in addition to the education with the quirt earlier in the evening. Should these lessons bear repeating, it will be with the belt.