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With that conjecture, the woman swings viciously from the shoulder and strikes the buttocks of the well-restrained prisoner. He screams. The girl smiles. The woman’s face is not in camera view.

There is a long pause, during which I recalled reading accounts of inquisitors and interrogators concerning the proper application of instruments of correction and discipline. All concurred that floggings are best done in a leisurely manner. And one memorable written account described how the executioner relished extending the application of twelve lashes to over an hour of torment.

And so it was with the woman with the cane. But for the sobbing and spasmodic movements of Jean Claude’s head in the hands of the naked girl, I would have thought the tape stopped.

Lady Constance spurred Nancy to greater efforts beneath the satin sheets and used the extended pause to explain the video.

“This man attempted to steal my purse in Paris. His efforts were rewarded with a broken limb and an arrest. But when he was arraigned, it came to the attention of the police that he was wanted for questioning in the molestation of a young girl. The girl sitting before him in the video.

“She’s of age now, as you see, but at the time of her unfortunate encounter with Jean Claude, she was just reaching puberty.

“Well, Doctor, I had my attorneys look into the matter, and they concluded there was probably not enough evidence for a conviction. Witnesses had died or could not be located and the girl’s testimony, strained by trauma and emotion, could be brought into question by clever defense counsel.

“So, what better way to put some of my many dollars to good work. I arranged for Jean Claude’s bail and immediately induced him to visit a certain strict, African country with a letter offering free airfare. The reigning dictator there is a good friend of mine. A rather uncultured individual but certainly sympathetic to my request for complete control over his French visitor.

“I convinced the girl’s mother, a Turkish woman who emotionally never recovered from the incident, that perhaps she would enjoy chaperoning Jean Claude’s incarceration. It was she who sought her daughter’s participation. As you can see, they work together very well.”

Another frighteningly loud crack emanated from the video monitor. It was followed by Jean Claude’s scream. He was indeed singing for the Turkish woman, and the smiling girl began to mock his exaggerated response by moving her pudendum even closer to his face.

“You have lost interest in me, Jean Claude? Years ago you were so eager to gain access to my charms.”

Lady Constance continued providing background.

“As you can see, Doctor, I very much enjoy watching mother and daughter work Jean Claude. Whenever a tape arrives and proves to be genuine, I send them a nice check. It keeps all happy, except Jean Claude seems to be experiencing some level of discomfort.”

Lady Constance laughed with her understated description of Jean Claude’s predicament and another stroke was applied, as she giggled.

“Do you like Jasmine’s handiwork? I sent her to meet Jean Claude when his plane landed in Africa. She terms the procedure an “extreme circumcision”. But she in fact removed the sensitive tip of his penis. I wanted to leave something for amusement, and you can see the results. He can even achieve a tiny erection, which the daughter finds to be most entertaining. But it’s really an old Chinese torture, leaving the hormone generating testicles and removing the instrument, which permits gratification and relief.

“Over time, the canings have become his sexual relief. You noticed how he obediently placed himself on the horse and arranged for his wrists to be secured? It’s the only way his body can be rid of the buildup of hormones. Ejaculation is impossible.

“And it was very poor judgment to molest a Turkish girl. As you can see, mother is rather handy with the cane. And bastinado is a Turkish cultural specialty.”

Yes. Lady Constance was correct. My years of research and my collection of illustrations had many examples of this most painful technique of discipline and behavior modification. Bastinado is the application of the cane to the soles of the feet. It’s thought to have been developed by the Turks, and, if it wasn’t, it was certainly perfected by them.

In the feet are the endings of the largest nerves in the body. Thus, a crisp stroke sends an intense message to the cortex. And because of the location of the thousands of nerve endings it is a very strong and direct message, which the nervous system of most recipients cannot override with the flow of endorphins. It is an interesting contrast that nature also provides the feet with the toughest layers of skin. Thus the cane may be repeatedly applied to well-restrained feet without breaking the skin, as opposed to other areas where application is comparatively limited by the eventual development of welts and bleeding.

And so as I contemplate Jean Claude’s fate, Lady Constance moves her hands under the shiny blue, satin sheets, shifts her pelvis and gives Nancy excited and explicit commands concerning her oral efforts.

“Good girls get masturbated, Nancy. Perhaps I’ll have Jasmine fist you before the entire hotel staff. Yes, I think you’d like that.”

With Lady Constance’s words of encouragement, the Turkish woman disappears from the screen then returns with a shorter more sturdy cane. Jean Claude, apparently well accustomed to the weekly torment, begins to shake uncontrollably. When the woman touches his left foot with her hand, Jean Claude convulses in apparent anticipation of a stroke to his well-exposed foot. Both mother and daughter laugh.

After a pause her hand moves between his thighs.

“Your little stub is nicely swollen, Jean Claude. Is it your view of my daughter’s sex, which excites you? Perhaps the strong aroma of her feminine scent? Years ago you were aggressive and very determined to taste her forbidden fruit. Perhaps you would like to try again?”

The woman laughs sardonically.

“I will let you have a lick for taking the cane. Yes, a nice firm stroke to the sole of the foot will earn you a lap. A stroke of the cane for a stroke of the tongue. One must earn his pleasure, Jean Claude. Everything has a price.”

Ordinarily such an offer would be refused. But I ruminated over Jean Claude’s state. Both mental and physical..., the days of boredom in solitary confinement, his truncated penis with questionable sensation, pleasurable or otherwise, the tiny shaft with limited sensation precluding normal sexual relief, the beautiful, naked daughter freely displaying her genitalia. I wondered how often she appeared before him. It was apparent that the sexual assault at such an early age had twisted her libido. Maybe her only gratification was in tormenting Jean Claude, her assailant, with her naked charms, fully aware that the hormones developed by his intact gonads would flow abundantly, yet normal relief was denied by Jasmine’s handiwork, the stubby, inadequate, penis shaft.

Yes, how ironic that Jean Claude’s egregious conduct had sealed his own fate. A normal girl would not expose herself in such a manner and so devotedly assist in his torment. But by Jean Claude’s own hand, she was no longer normal. And she sat with a smirk of satisfaction knowing that with each pleasant application of Jean Claude’s tongue, he would pay a dear price. Yes, one could quickly conclude from her calm, knowing look that the table had turned in the sexual power game with Jean Claude. It was she who was in charge, and when she reaches between her thighs and separates her wonderfully pink and youthful labia, Jean Claude’s tongue humbly thrusts forward and licks.

The woman raises the short cane. The stroke to Jean Claude’s left foot is impressively abbreviated yet produces the most amazing reaction from Jean Claude. The shriek is eerie in tone and decibel level. And the girl smiles broadly, perhaps from the soft wet tongue, perhaps from Jean Claude’s torment, probably from both.

Mother and daughter look at each during the pause, letting the full level of pain roll through Jean Claude’s nervous system. Within a

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