Et in Acadia, lucy, a tale by anon (as requested).

Lucy Hutton was in a state of high excitement, having some weeks ago been much upset. Her mother had telephoned her to say that her father had been seconded from his base in Singapore to a security zone in Indonesia. While a visa had been secured for her mother to accompany him, one could not be obtained for Lucy, and Lucy would have to stay with an aunt for the summer, when her boarding school broke up. Lucy confided her distress to her Azanian classmate, Nyanta. Nyanta immediately suggested that Lucy go to Azania as her guest for the summer, saying that despite the heat, she would be comfortable. Disappointed not to see her family, Lucy joyfully agreed.

Now, having changed planes at Addis Ababa, they were about to land at Debra Dowa, capital of the island nation state off the Somali coast. Debra Dowa was on a high plateau and the temperature easily bearable. The plane circled and landed and Yanta’s parents greeted them inside the terminal. They reminded Lucy, by their appearance and demeanour of the parental couple in "The Prince of Bel Air". On the brief drive home, they became acquainted and relaxed in one another's company.

Nyanta's family had a spacious house on the edge of the city. Lucy was shown her room and unpacked and when she came downstairs she was introduced to Nyanta's brother, Uchay, a handsome, muscular young man, two years older than herself: she was sorry he had to go back to the NT compound so soon. When he had left, Lucy made it clear that although there were domestic staff, she wanted to pull her weight in the household and be helpful.

At dinner Lucy learned that Azanian national and local government had evolved from the feudal system which preceded it and that her hosts were of the local aristocracy and Nyanta's father was governor of the province around the capital, a position he could bequeath to Uchay. Afterwards they walked into town and Lucy admired the physique of the Azanian, a Hamitic people, whose men were (with exceptions like Nyanta's father) lean and muscular and women lithe and graceful-and the young men admired Lucy who, at seventeen was, in their culture, ripe for marriage and motherhood. She was slightly built, fair of complexion and protuberant in the right places and although a virgin, her sweet, innocent face spelled sex to all men. But she was a good girl, generous of heart and willing to give of herself and when she said she wanted to be of use in the house, she meant it.

The following day, in the local costume of a long, strapless muslin dress, Lucy set to work in the kitchen and looking after Nyanta's younger siblings. Nyanta had told her the taboos Azanian society: that females might not smoke nor drink alcohol, that they must bow slightly when introduced to a male, that they were there to serve and, if they did so, reward would come to them. Lucy's nature adapted to this entirely without abrasion. She settled happily into the role she made for herself of privileged servant and guest, who took her meals and leisure with the family, and addressed Nyanta's father as "Master", as did the other females in the house. Nyanta was as industrious as Lucy and this made their leisure time together, of which there was plenty, the more precious and enjoyable. The household took to Lucy in a big way and, she to it.

One evening, after dinner, as Lucy and Nyanta sat on the veranda, watching the stars, Lucy said: "What's that compound down the road, where the scrub begins?”

"The N.T compound."

"Where Uchay is? What is it?"

"The Nuptial Thraldom compound. It's where boys and girls of our age from the ruling families go. Here we have conscription at sixteen, the boys do nine months at officer training camps and the girls nurse in the hospitals. The nine months are tough for the boys, so they go to the N.T compound and the girls look after them for three months and make a fuss of them, then they go back to school."

"What does nuptial thraldom mean?"

"Marital slavery, literally."

"Why do they call it that?"

"Because the girls learn to serve their masters there, to be good wives. They learn all sorts of things," said Nyanta with a delicious smile, "I'll go there when I finish school. It's because I'm at school in England I have to wait. Uchay did the same." Lucy read a thousand exotic nuances in Nyanta's smile.

Ten days into her stay, Nyanta came to Lucy in the kitchen. "Lucy, my Uncle Abel has died. We must go to Mhomala for the funeral."

"I am sorry, Ny. What shall I do?"

"You'll have to stay here. Don't be sorry, he was an awful man. But Mother and I have to stay in the mourning party for two weeks. The funeral's in four days. We'll be gone three weeks." Lucy was distraught, as it became clear that almost the entire household was to decamp. She would be left with a couple of domestic staff, lonely and frustrated. That afternoon she approached Nyanta.

"Ny, is there any chance I could go to the N.T compound while you're away?"

"Lucy, you wouldn't like it. It's not a game."

"But I'd be doing something useful and I'd be with young men and girls. I'd rather be serving there than lounging here."

"You don't know what it's like. You have to perform certain services for them. And they punish you for next to nothing."

"What services, what punishment?"

"Sexual services, you know. Uchay is the senior there-if he wishes he can order you to sleep with him or one of the others. They can all beat you with a small strap and Uchay can have you flogged with the cane. Anyway, it's out of the question. They'd never let you." But Lucy's curiosity and erotic imagination were aroused. A thousand possibilities raced through her mind.

“Ny, may I ask your father.... Please?"

"Go ahead: he'll only laugh."

Lucy went to find Nyanta's father in the sitting room with his wife. She bowed.

"Please, Master, may I ask something of you?" He was seated in his easy chair, well contented following lunch. He smiled indulgently.

"You may." Lucy sank to her knees. Although sweet and good willed, she knew how to flatter a man to get her way. But the way in which she sank to her knees did her a greater favour-it was so clumsy by local standards.

"Please, Master, when the family are away, would it be possible for me to go to the N.T compound?" Nyanta was right; her father did laugh, but kindly. His wife smiled.

"Stay and talk to my wife about it for a while. If you still want to go, come to the study and tell me. "And he went out. Half an hour later Lucy went to the study, impressed and intimidated by her recent discussion. She knocked on the door and was called in. She entered and bowed.

"Well, Lucy. Still want to go?"

"Yes please, Master."

"I'll have to ask your father and tell him a bit about it. I'll see you later."

Nyanta's father found Lucy in the garden, pruning. "Lucy, I've spoken to your father and he says it's alright. You are to go tomorrow and I hope you enjoy it. At least they will teach you to kneel correctly, in one movement." The following afternoon, Lucy was delivered to the compound. The gatekeeper took her to Mawhana, housemother, matron and tutor in the girls' accommodation. Mawhana was a widow, in her early forties, the model of Azanian decorum and propriety. Aware of the unusualness of Lucy's situation, Mawhana gave her special attention.

"Welcome, Lucy. I am Mawhana, your tutor. You are here for three weeks."

"Yes."

"You are nervous."

"Yes."

"That's understandable. Try not to be. While you are here there is a great deal to learn which you could not learn at home."

"I hope so."

"Tell me about yourself, and I'll answer any questions you may have."

So, Lucy told about herself and began to relax. Then Mawhana told Lucy her duties. "You are to serve the young men, to please them and give them confidence in their mastery of you. If you do this well and in the right spirit, you will be rewarded by the sense of achievement you will have-this may seem hard to see now, but please trust me. You may perceive injustice and pain: you must accept this and it too will bring its own reward. You know that Uchay may order you to his bed or the bed of his companions."

"Yes, I know."

"Any of the men may beat your breasts with a Shaba: let me show you one." Mawhana took from a drawer a an object ten inches in length; it had a handle four inches long and a strap of leather, six inches long and one inch wide. "When a man says "shaba" to you, you bare your breasts and push them out to him. He can give you three strokes on each. If this happens three times in one day, you pin a red emblem to your top and it cannot happen again. As you can see, it's not heavy and won't do you any harm. As you are new you can expect it quite a lot. But I've asked them not to use it on you until after tomorrow. They are good boys."

"Thank you."

"If you commit a serious offence, Uchay may have you flogged. It's not as bad as it sounds; just a beating with the cane, but it does hurt very much. But this makes it sound awful here and it's not. Everyone here is happy, the girls too. You are free to leave whenever you wish. You may refuse any punishment, even part way through, but if you do you must leave. When was your last period?"

" It finished yesterday.”

"Now, is there anything you want to ask me?" Lucy had a dozen questions and asked them all. After this she was taken to the compound nurse to validate her claim to virginity, for a medical to pass her as fit to undertake tasks and receive punishments and to remove her bodily hair. Then she was taken to her en-suite room to unpack. After this she was given several sets of standard compound clothing: the girls wore a muslin skirt which touched the ground and a bikini style top which fastened between the cleavage-they were bare foot and bare bellied. Thus attired, she was introduced to the other girls who were fascinated and thrilled at her arrival; most important, they were friendly. The girls having gone to serve the evening meal, Mawhana took Lucy to instruct her in meditation and give her a mantra: on repeating it, Lucy drifted easily into the trance.

"You must use it to meditate on your duties and how you can how you can do better," said Mawhana. Lucy was then locked in her room for two hours.

That evening, Lucy was taken to be presented to her masters. They were sitting at the dining table, smoking cigars. Lucy felt vulnerable but seeing Uchay at the head of the table reassured her. He smiled and beckoned her. She went to him and knelt at his feet, as Mawhana said she must, forehead to the ground. "Stand up, Lucy," he said She did as bidden. "It's good of you to come and serve us for a few weeks. We all appreciate it." Lucy was reassured by the smiles of Uchay's companions, welcoming and relaxed. She turned back to Uchay, who smiled at her.

"Lucy, I'm sure you'll have a happy time with us. Do your duty, behave and you'll find it very rewarding. The routine is hard but it will fulfil you. Accept how things are and you will find yourself."

"Yes, Master," she said with a respectful smile. Uchay smiled back.

"Take your top off, Lucy."

Mawhana had told Lucy to expect this, but she blushed furiously: not that she was ashamed of her body, it was a sight for any man's sore eyes and she knew it. It was that she was afraid that she might do it wrong in their eyes. Looking into the middle distance, she removed her top and let it fall. She was aware of intense scrutiny and admiration. She returned her gaze to Uchay and smiled nervously. He smiled and ran his eyes across her chest. He looked into her eyes and his expression told her what to do. She unclasped her skirt, let it fall and moved next to him. He ran his hands across her breasts, buttocks and between her legs.

"Go round the table, Lucy." Lucy did so, and was fondled by every man present. It occurred to her that although these men had control her at will, she had her own power over them through their fascination with her. But more than that, she felt great gratification at giving such pleasure. Such power as she had was wholly feminine and could only be used with benevolent guile to achieve limited goals, not necessarily for her own benefit, but there it was. "Lucy, get dressed and go to bed," said Uchay. Mawhana locked Lucy in her room and bade her good night.

The next morning, Lucy was woken at six o'clock and set to work in the kitchen and then serving breakfast. Then she and the other girls had their breakfast. After this she was again set to work in the kitchen. The men rarely went into the kitchen and Kamala, a friendly girl from the north of Azania, knelt on the window, looking out and looked out, chatting to Lucy who was washing up. As this was going on a young man named Mutsa appeared at the door and gazed at Kamala's back.

"Kamala, come here, "he said. Looking guilty, Kamala went to him. "What were you doing?"

"I was being idle, Master."

"Shaba."

"Yes, Master." Looking him in the face, Kamala unfastened her top and exposed her breasts, which she thrust out to him, hands behind her back. Mutsa took a shaba from his pocket. Standing back, he brought the shaba down sharply three times on Kamala's left breast, on and around the nipple. Kamala gasped at each stroke and Lucy saw the tears well in her eyes. Mutsa paused for a moment as Mawhana appeared at the doorway. Mawhana remained at the doorway and Mutsa brought the shaba down three times on the same area of Kamala's right breast, again she winced and tears coursed her cheeks. Mutsa put the Shaba into his pocket and Kamala sank to her knees in the single graceful movement, which Lucy was to learn so well.

"Thank you, Master."

"Get on with your work."

Mutsa looked at Lucy, who had watched in fascination. "Come here, Lucy." In fear, Lucy went to him. "You are here to work, not watch other people's affairs, aren't you?"

"Yes, Master, "she replied in a small, scared voice. She was shaking with fear and he noticed. He smiled kindly "No shaba for you today, Lucy. Mawhana asked us not to. But tomorrow, watch out."

"Th...Thank you , Master."

"Get on with your work."

"Yes, Master." As she turned to go, Mutsa brought his hand down with full force on her bottom, the thin muslin skirt affording no protection. She squealed and leapt, turning to Mutsa with a resentful and angry expression. He laughed.

"She obviously wants another, "he said, going out. Lucy rubbed her bottom and tears came to her eyes. Kamala stood up and adjusted her clothing, then dried her eyes.

"Lucy, that was bad of you, "said Mawhana.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't help watching."

"Not that. The way you looked at him and did not thank him."

"But he's not meant to smack me like that-it really hurt."

"He did it for his enjoyment. You are here to please You must remember that or you will not like it here. Things like that will happen every day. You must accept it in the spirit of having given pleasure to a man. The more it hurt you the more it pleased him: as you say, it hurt very much, so you should thank him for pleasing him very much. See it this way and you will be happy here, otherwise not. And I tell you, he'll be back and do it again, and you'd better take it with a better grace."

Lucy went on working and as she did so, the heat in her Bottom moved a little and aroused a pleasant sensation in her genitalia. She basked in the notion that her suffering had pleased Mutsa and wondered when He would come back. He returned ten minutes later. Lucy turned and looked at him over her shoulder from the sink. As he came toward her she raised her skirt to offer him her bare bottom and bent slightly over the sink, facing the wall. His hand came down even harder than before and Lucy gasped. Tears flowed.

"Thank you, Master."

"Would you like another?"

"If it pleases you, Master." His hand came down again as hard as before. Lucy gave a little cry and began to sob.

"I have finished-for now."

Lucy let her skirt fall and turned to him and sank to her knees. "Thank you, Master, and I'm sorry for my conduct before."

"Then you are forgiven."

"Thank you,Master."

"Stand up."

Lucy stood and eyed him tearfully, humbly. He smiled and stroked her cheek. "I enjoyed that, Lucy."

"I am glad, Master."

He went out, leaving Lucy to compose herself and finish her work. Again the pain in her bottom converted to a delicious sensation in her loins. She was happier than she had ever been. That afternoon Lucy was ordered to the swimming pool to serve refreshments there. Mawhana, who showed her where things were and what to do greeted her. She was informed that she was to carry out this duty topless which gave a frisson to the affair: she was proud of her breasts and revelled in this chance to show then to an admiring audience. The men would order their drinks and snacks of her and when she brought them would fondle her breasts and tell her their delight at the prospect of using the shaba on her. In the early evening, Lucy was sent to help prepare dinner and serve it and this being done went to Mawhana.

"Here, Lucy, we also teach the arts of love. This is Hegal. He will be your partner tonight. Although full intercourse is forbidden here unless Uchay permits it, there are ways to keep a man in a state of pleasurable excitement for hours and, of course, relieve his tension at the end. I shall be present and instruct the two of you. Do not be embarrassed." And Mawhana taught Lucy, on this and other nights, what she had promised-and didn't Lucy love it and wasn't she good at it!

The next morning, Lucy felt like a hunted fox. Every man in the place was looking for the chance to use the Shaba on her. But she amused herself by being so utterly faultless that she gave them no chance. She secretly smiled as she sensed their palpable frustration. Of course she would be caught sooner or later but she'd give them a run for their money. When she came to grief she was glad that it was Hegal who caught her: their intimacy of the previous evening albeit witnessed by Mawhana drew her to him. It was just after lunch and, tired by her efforts to evade the inevitable, she was sitting behind the huts by the swimming pool when she should have been washing up. Hegal came upon her by accident, looking for something he had lost. Lucy was glad they were alone, realising what would happen.

"Lucy, stand up." She stood up and obediently unclasped her top and exposed her breasts without being ordered. She thrust out her chest, looking him in the eye, to take her punishment. (Mawhana had told her the importance of looking men in the eye during this punishment. The men could see the pain in the girls' faces and this pleased them.) Hegal took a shaba from his pocket and laid it gently across her left breast and

smiled at her: she smiled back nervously.

"That was good of you, Lucy, to present yourself without my asking."

"Thank you, Master."

Hegal raised the shaba and brought it down where it had rested. Lucy shrieked, not loudly. Hegal looked shocked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry, Master, I didn't expect it to hurt so much."

"Shall we start again?"

"Yes please, Master." The small strap rose and fell six times more, but Lucy did not cry out. When it was over, Hegal cupped Lucy's chin in his hands and watched the tears well in her eyes and course her cheeks. This done, she sank to her knees.

"Thank you, Master."

"My pleasure, "he said and left her to nurse her stinging breasts. She later learned that this punishment served the additional purpose of making the girls wince when their breasts were fondled. Lucy received the shaba frequently after that, but never wore her red emblem and presented herself to receive it without being ordered. This lead to Uchay enacting the first changes to the compound regulations in some years: any girl discovered committing an offence worthy of the shaba was to present herself for it without being asked or risk an extra stroke on each breast. The girls welcomed this new frisson of danger, and one by one began not to use their red emblems-the men were not brutes and could see if any of them had had enough for one day. So Lucy fell, in two or three days, into this way of life. By day, work with the endless smacks on the bottom and the delicious threat of the shaba. By night, the instructions of Mawhana in the Azanian arts of love, as sophisticated as any of Asian origin. She learned to keep a man in a state of in a state of high but not frustrated arousal for hours on end and to relieve his tension in a manner, which satisfied as much as, was possible with her body, hands and mouth without full intercourse occurring. The days were routine but enlivened by the threat of punishment, the shaba and the smacks. Occasionally a girl was led away to Uchay's bungalow and left there by Mawhana: the sound of the cane, squeals and sobbing would be heard and the girl would emerge later, red eyed and markedly more assiduous in her work. On her third night a girl was flogged. As Mawhana had said, the term was excessive and the event theatrical, designed to provide maximum stimulating entertainment for the men, on a stage. The girl bent across a table, having nominated the man she wanted to carry out her punishment, received forty eight strokes of the cane, by no means with full force but extremely painful nevertheless, as her screams testified. She walked with a shuddering gait for some days afterwards. All in the compound, excepting Mawhana were witness to this, the men for amusement, the girls as a warning As she meditated that night after the flogging, Lucy was at pains to understand why she was so happy there. The unending chores and torments, the drudgery, the unreasonable demands, the lack of will or freedom and yet it felt quite unlike any notion of perdition. Indeed she would go to sleep eager for the next day to begin. She imagined the affair being discussed on "Woman's Hour" on Radio Four and began to chuckle. At this moment Mawhana unlocked the door and came in. Knowing Lucy to be far from home culturally and geographically, she kept a motherly eye on her.

"How are things, Lucy?"

"Lovely, thank you. But, Mawhana, why am I so happy here? It doesn't make sense."

"Yes it does. I told you that you'd be happy here if you made the effort to abandon your will and make your men happy and you have done so and you are happy. You are fulfilling the role which nature ordained for our sex. You are serving and, to an extent, suffering but this gives you a sense of security and safety. You are learning the arts of love and this is healthy in a young girl and a great joy to you. When the men hurt you, they derive enjoyment not because they hate you but because your willingness to suffer for them shows love and respect, sexually and in a higher octave and you, although you can't rationalise this yet, are subconsciously aware of this and responding to it and playing your part. It is the same when a man takes his wife's virginity or witnesses her suffering when she bears his child-he revels in her pain because it is her gift to him in the natural order, and in this spirit she bears him no malice. No-one sane relishes war, but a woman may feel pride in her husband going to it, not because she wants him harmed or killed but this may be his gift to her. You are also awakening your power, as a woman, a feminine, subtle power, not likes that of a man. Men are good for the larger matters, government, philosophy and the rest but we deal with the small ones, which are as important. When a man is hurt he will always go to his mother-they never grow up. Good night, Lucy." Mawhana went out and locked the door, and Lucy fell asleep, weighing what she had been told. For the next few days Lucy went about her duties as before and one morning Mawhana beckoned her.

"Come with me, Lucy."

Feeling uneasy, Lucy followed her, watched by the other girls present. Her heart sank as she saw that they were heading for Uchay's bungalow. They entered without knocking and Mawhana lead Lucy to a room, which was a mixture of a sitting room and a study. There was an empty table with a cane leaning against it. Lucy's heart pounded.

"Kneel and wait here, Lucy." Lucy did as ordered in the polished manner of which she had become so proud. Mawhana went out without a further word. Lucy, obviously, was in little doubt as to why she had been brought. Forehead to the carpet, heart still pounding, she wondered what she had done wrong. Her mouth was dry. She stayed like this for almost twenty minutes before someone entered the room. She dared not look up as whomever it was came and stood in front of her. She saw the bare feet of a man close to her face. Uchay's voice came to her: "Kneel up, Lucy, look at me." Sinuously, she raised the upper half of her body and met his gaze. He smiled at her pleasantly, with no trace of gloating or. Timidly she smiled back.

"Lucy, you look nervous; why?"

"Because I think you're going to beat me, Master." He laughed.

"Lucy, no-one's going to do anything to you which you don't want them to. I hope no one has yet since you came. Think about it. Have they?" She thought and answered honestly:

"No, Master."

"Good. Lucy, since you came here, you have served us well because you are a girl of good heart. Believe me, your contribution has been appreciated and talked of among us." He paused, waiting for some response.

"Please, Master, I believe you. I am only nervous because I don't know what I've done wrong."

"You haven't done anything wrong-apart from some bad grace on your first morning, but you apologised for that, I gather from Mutsa. The thing is that you serve us well but I think you could do even better." Here, Lucy's eye caught the cane and she became afraid again. She realised that he was awaiting a response, but was fearful of being seduced into something she might regret-but a sheepish look into his eyes assured her of nothing less than complete integrity, sensitivity and a hint of wisdom. She recalled her conversations with Mawhana and remembered the need to abandon her will. With an effort she said:

"How might I achieve this, Master?" Uchay smiled again, and in this there was no hint of superciliousness or unkindness.

"Lucy, you serve us very well, as I said. Take Kamala, your friend: if she performed as you do, I would not dream of punishing her. I might better call it, err, encouraging her, but she is muddle headed and a dreamer. Everyone has dreams, I know, but for her it is a lifestyle. She is a dear person and will make a man very happy, maybe an artist, "he concluded, drifting off, himself, somewhat. Lucy looked up, trustful, anxious. Uchay recalled himself. "Lucy," he announced sententiously-and here she allowed herself to smile at this-"I think that you have become complacent, and while you work so well, I think that with encouragement you could do better."

"Yes, Master." She wished he'd get on with it. Then Uchay became serious again.

"Lucy, I want to beat you to wake you up. You don't have to accept it. You can refuse and stay here. Put your head to the ground again and think about it if you wish." Lucy put her head to the ground and thought hard. Fear was, to begin with, paramount but she felt herself more than a daughter of England, a daughter of Azania. The loss of herself, as Mawhana had promised, had given her so much. It was time for an act of faith. It was very hard though to surrender to the certainty of a severe beating. In her mind she struggled to rationalise the matter but could not-it was beyond that. If she resisted now she would break something fragile and beautiful, which could never be repaired. And suddenly it was clear: this man wanted to beat her to make her of better service to himself and his companions, her suffering would flatter his manly vanity, she was his inferior, there to please him, she was being willful.

She said "Master, it is not for me to say what is best for me to make me better in my service. But, please may I draw to your attention my hesitance in declaring this."

"You may. And why were you hesitant, Lucy?"

"Because I had will, Master."

"And was this will contrary to my own?"

"Yes, Master, it was"

"Should this willfulness be punished?"

"It is not for me to say, Master,."

"Do you believe that you should be punished for this? I want an answer." Lucy felt constrained to pronounce her own sentence-whatever it might be. But she said:

"That is for your judgement, Master." Feminine power had its’ way too, but he did not give up.

"Stand up, Lucy."

She did as ordered. He smiled at her again and she smiled back, trustfully. "Lucy, I insist that you tell me-do you think you deserve to be punished for your hesitance?"

A lump rose in her throat.

"Yes, Master, I do." She began to feel afraid. Tears welled in her eyes. Uchay gazed at her, exuding satisfaction. She had stood up to him and been made gently to sit firmly down again. He decided to break her down, subtly, by prolonging her fearful anticipation.

"Lucy, as well as the punishment already due to you, do you think the punishment for hesitance should be severe?" Lucy was wide eyed with fear.

"Please, Master, I don't know I don't know." She began to cry and he watched her with amusement.

"Lucy, you shouldn't be insolent and refuse to answer a reasonable question, should you?"

"No, Master, I'm sorry," she sobbed.

"Should you be punished for that too?" Lucy broke. She fell to the floor and hugged his ankles.

"Yes, Master, I should be punished for it, "she sobbed, "Do what you want to me."

Uchay had what he wanted.

"Get up Lucy." She stood up, much more calm "Take off your clothes."

"Yes, Master." He fondled her breasts, giving her a thrill she had not thought possible. He was tall and muscular, she smallish and slight. In a short while, he would have her across the desk and thrash her until she howled-and how she wanted it: it didn't matter how much it hurt her if it gave him pleasure- Mawhana's "love in a higher octave."

“Lucy, I'm ready to beat you." Willingly she placed herself across the desk, her bottom thrust out "Lucy, I can't beat you without a cane." She got up and handed him the cane, respectfully, on the upturned palms of both hands "That was thoughtless of you, Lucy, and you'll pay for it."

"Thank you, Master, and I apologise." Again she bent over the desk, uttering a brief prayer that she might endure her ordeal with dignity. The cane rose and fell. Lucy gasped and shuddered at the shock of just how painful it really was. Tears flowed freely and the cane rose again. Again it fell and again she gasped, this time groaning as well. She managed to take the first ten strokes as quietly as this, but at the tenth she broke again and cried out. Uchay paused to allow her to compose herself “I'm sorry, Master," she sobbed.

"That's alright, Lucy." He caressed her hair as she wept.

"I'm sorry, Master, please don't upset yourself." He smiled at the back of her shuddering head. She had done well for her first time. "Lucy, I'm going to continue. You've done well so far. You may cry out as much as you wish, within reason. It lets me know I'm doing the job properly, and it keeps the other girls on their toes."

"Thank you, Master." The cane rose and fell five times more, and Lucy cried out at each stroke. She tried not to, but the pain was too great. When it was over she wept across the desk. At length Uchay said:

"Stand up, Lucy." She stood up unsteadily.

"Thank you, Master, "she said with utter sincerity. He smiled and, through her tears, she smiled back.

"Put your clothes on and go to your room for a cry."

As she sobbed in her room, Lucy realised that she had fallen in love with Uchay. Mawhana came in to see how Lucy was. "Was it very painful?"

"Yes, it was."

"But it was worth it?"

"Yes, to show Uchay that I love him. I do love him Mawhana."

"That's natural, and it'll pass. Nyanta's father telephoned to see how you were getting on. They're expecting you back next Friday."

"Mawhana, please, please, is there any chance that I could stay longer, please?"

Mawhana smiled broadly and said: "We thought you would ask that. We discussed it on the telephone and he's agreed that you may. But you must go back to Nyanta's family for the last week, otherwise it might look rude." Through her tears, Lucy's eyes shone like stars. "Oh, Mawhana, thank you."

"The rules change later on but I'm sure you'll manage." And Mawhana went out, leaving behind her, with livid weals on her bottom, tears in her eyes and facing the certainty of much worse was to come, the happiest girl in Azania.

The End Copyright © erinlass