Joan and Janelle walked into the cafeteria and found many black-collars there, along with their minders. Per Joan’s instructions, Louise and Delia were there too. The black-collars were all cuffed and gagged. There was a chain hanging from the ceiling, with a gagged black-collar on tiptoe handcuffed to it. She looked terrified.
Joan spoke. “Our guest of honor here tried to escape. Forget that she was naked. Forget that she had no money. Forget that she doesn’t know the city outside the bar. It was still dumb because of the security system. You all have RFID tags embedded in your bodies. If one of you leaves, we know about it. If one of you moves from one area of the bar to another, we know about it. We don’t like the hassle involved in catching up with slaves that aren’t where they are supposed to be. This is to show you how much we don’t like it.”
Janelle was holding a nasty-looking quirt. She approached the slave on the chain and began without additional introduction to whip her. Breasts, stomach, rear, and thighs all got a fair share of the stripes. The other black-collars looked on in resignation. After five minutes, the punishment stopped. The black-collars were herded out, some to the bar for afternoon duty, and others back to the dorms to rest for evening duty. The guest of honor remained.
Joan removed the gag from the punished slave and asked, “Any questions?”
The slave hung by her wrists, limply, and used the removal of the gag to move a little more air, gasping, then moaned and cried. She didn’t speak.
After a few minutes, Joan put the gag back in and disconnected the slave from the chain, then recuffed her behind her back. “You’ll be in a different group now. You’ll be on this afternoon and evening. I think a lot of the customers will be interested in you because of the stripes.” Joan motioned to a green-collar to take the still-moaning slave to the bar.
After every one but Joan, Janelle, Louise, and Delia was gone, Joan uncuffed Delia and recuffed her hands in front, then locked her to the ceiling chain. “You know what is happening next, don’t you?” she asked.
Delia shuddered. “I knew this was coming.”
“Do you want to be gagged?”
“OK. Janelle, you may begin.”
Joan stepped back with Louise. Louise asked, “Why am I here?”
“You brought Delia. You also served as an example to the black-collars. There were two examples — one bad one and one good one. Whippings have been rather rare lately, so I wanted there to be a good contrast.”
Janelle took the first lick at Delia’s backside. Delia gasped but didn’t scream. Janelle wasn’t whipping at the quick pace she used before. This was much more leisurely. Delia got striped in all the same places, but with far more time between strokes, and nowhere near as many. When it stopped, Joan said, “You saw what a moderate whipping was like. You just got a mild one. What do you think of it?”
Delia sobbed, then gathered herself, and said “That was the most pain I have ever experienced.”
“Well, think about it. The previous occupant of your position got a lot worse. We don’t whip anywhere near as much or as badly as a lot of other places do. Some owners take any rule-breakers to the meat packers, or stop by first at the county impalement or slow-hang places. Some get really nasty. Are you beginning to get it?”
“Yes, for God’s sake, I get it.”
“Good, because it’s your life now. Louise, take her to the suck trainer. I’ll be there in a while. You can start on it.”