Somehow although her shoulders felt like they were caught in a vice, Janys managed to pull off three branches and hand them to Elondelle. She dropped her hold on Janys's right shoulder for a moment to take them, then immediately clamped her left hand onto Janys's forearm.
"Are you right or left-handed?" she demanded.
"Right," Janys answered automatically as she tried to cope with this newest onslaught on her body.
"Then Janys, you need to listen carefully, because this is going to make a difference to you in the things you do for the rest of the day." She paused, making sure that her captive was looking back into her icy blue eyes.
"For your disobedience in refusing to do as I asked without my intervention, I am going to switch one of your hands until the palm is swollen. If I have to do this without your cooperation, it will be your right hand, because that is the one I can restrain and punish most effectively." To illustrate her point, she wrenched Janys's arm so that it was straight out, ready to receive the first blow. "But that will make it very difficult for you to write or eat or undress or do many other tasks. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Janys whispered.
"So I would prefer to use your left one instead. But that will mean that you have to hold it out yourself so that I only have to use mine to steady you." Again the blue eyes bored into Janys's head. "Which do you choose—the right or the left?"
For a long moment there was only the sound of the wind whispering through the little area. Then Elondelle dropped two of the switches and tightened her grip on Janys's right arm as she raised the remaining one high above her head.
"No!" Janys wailed. "Do the left one!"
"Excellent," the older woman responded, switching her hold to Janys's left arm. "Now uncurl your fingers. This is going to be hard, but you are going to have to keep your hand flat until I am done. If you do not, or if you pull it away, I will start over on the right one."
The second Janys flattened out her fingers, the switch descended. Janys jumped as the line of pain cut across her palm. The next blow came immediately, like lightning flicks across her smooth skin. Gritting her teeth, she grimly continued to hold out her sacrificial hand as the switch struck again and again…
For a while she averted her face from Elondelle, much as she'd turned away from the robo-medics when they extracted blood from her arm. But eventually she found herself looking back.
She hadn't been able to see Martel's expression when he'd spanked her for kicking him, but somehow she imagined it had been one of either anger or enjoyment. Elondelle surprised her. Although she was wielding the switch with precision, her face didn't betray feelings of either rage or delight. Rather she had the same look as Janys's fellow researchers did when undergoing low-level physical training—as though they were performing a repetitive task they didn't much like.
As the pain crescendoed, Janys was finding it harder to keep her hand in place. All she wanted to do was jerk it away and cup it her chest. Instead she had to stand there watching it turn red until mercifully numbness began to set in.
Apparently Elondelle realized that the punishment had reached its point of diminishing returns. With three extremely hard final strokes, she dropped her hold on Janys's arm, then bent to pick up the other two switches. "We will go inside," she said quietly. "I will give you a moment to soak that before our next lesson. But meanwhile I want you to remember that if you had simply done as you should, your hand would not be aching right now. I asked you to cut the switches to see if you had learned to obey without question. I had no intention of using any of them on you until you deserved it."
A few moments later as the cool water ran over her hand, Janys finally let herself cry. Despite her good intentions this morning, she had once again failed to sidestep a punishment that could easily have been avoided. Unless I want another switching, I'd better be more careful she muttered as Elondelle called her out to the living room.
Fortunately nothing went wrong for a little while as Elondelle sat her down and discussed the use of the bibalon. "The punishment you just received was—"
"Instanner," Janys responded promptly.
"That is true," Elondelle acknowledged. "Which means that I will not ask you to write down your act of disobedience as something to be dealt with at the decedonner. But I will ask you to record in the bibalon that the punishment occurred. I do not know if Martel will so choose, but some husbands weigh the number of punishments needed during the period in determining the implement used for the decedonner itself. In any event, a husband is entitled to know each punishment his wife receives, so although I will tell him directly, you should also write it down."
Janys extracted the small volume from the pocket of her tunics and wrote what Elondelle dictated about their session in the backyard. The older woman peered over her shoulder. "You have not recorded your punishment from last night," she commented. So Janys described that as well, blushing as she remembered that her mother-in-law had seen the full impact of Martel's hand on her backside while Janys had been on display in the kitchen.
As soon as Janys had finished writing, Elondelle ushered her into the kitchen, and they spent the time before the midday meal on the wonders of Demetian breads, meats and vegetables. Although Janys couldn't imagine ever liking a woman who had shown no more compunction about tenderizing her palm than she did a cut of tetralion prime, the younger woman had to agree with Martel that Elondelle had her way with cooking utensils.
She also found out something astonishing: her mother-in-law had been born on one of the Varga colonies, and had only emigrated to Demeter after meeting Martel's father. Not only that, but she had a physicist brother working at the Institute. Although Janys had never met the man, she certainly recognized his name.
"What did he think about your coming here?" she ventured.
"Not much. Back then the Institute took a very dim view of this world." Elondelle's sharp glance invited Janys's echo that nothing had changed. But when no confirmation came, the older woman continued.
"Strangely what bothered him most was not the loss of technology, because our family never bought the latest implants, but my change in language. As you know, the original colonists contained many Amish and others who hated 'technospeak' as much as the gadgetry. Plus the nature of our interactions requires greater formality. Live here long enough, Janys, and you too will stop using contractions or slang."
Yeah, about the time I start wanting to writing things down in that little book without anyone telling me, Janys snorted. How could this woman be so crazy as to give up civilization for a life sentence on Demeter?
They washed down large sandwiches of their concoctions with something resembling Earth tea while Janys trolled for more details, but Elondelle's revelations had ended for the day. After clearing away the dishes, she picked up the history book Janys had brought over. "Fetch the switches and report upstairs to the third room on the left," she directed. "We will have your first history test."
This time Janys retrieved the switches without any comment, although she wondered how her instructor intended to use them. Soon she learned the unsettling answer as Elondelle arranged the desk chair and the one next to it so they were facing each other. After laying the three switches on the desk top within easy reach, she pulled a piece of paper and pencil from the drawer. She drew a line down the center of the paper, then placed it and the pencil at the edge of the desk.
"Pull up your tunic so that it goes no lower than your knees," she ordered. "Then sit down right here." She pointed to the main desk chair. "I am going to ask you a series of questions based on the material you read last night. If you know an answer, we will go on to the next question, and I will make a check in the first column. If you do not know an answer, you will receive one strike across your shins, and I will place a check in this second column.
"When we are done, we will compare the checks in both columns. If there are more checks in the first column, you will have passed your first test, and other than givin
g you a new assignment, that will be all we will do today. If there are more checks in the second, I will determine the difference, and you will receive that many strikes across the back of your calves with two switches at once."
She smiled at Janys. "Fortunately I do not think we will have to go beyond that today or perhaps ever, because this is very easy test for anyone who read the material. But if it should turn out the difference is greater than twenty, I will know that you did not prepare for it, and I will again use two switches together across the front of your thighs."
Now Janys wished that she had at least opened the book. Still she had great faith that her Institute study would come through.
Her confidence lasted through the first question, which asked for the date of planetfall, and began floundering on the second. "Who was the first colonist to step forth onto our new world?" Elondelle asked.
The first one off the ship? Janys knew the leader of the expedition, because that had been important to understanding why the first settlers have abandoned Earth and its technology for this hot, dry world. But had Anne Spencer Robinson been the one out the door first, or had she sent someone more expendable? If so, Janys had no idea who it might be, so she was stuck with Anne.
Elondelle was not amused. "The answer was William Matheson," she told her as she picked up one of the switches and brought it down sharply right below Janys's knees making her squeal. "Next question," she intoned as she made a check in the second column.
Within minutes the first column looked unoccupied compared to the second, and Janys's legs were starting to throb. Still Elondelle's questions poured forth. Who had been killed in the tetralion stampede? What was the name of the first child born a Demetian? When did they get the first electric generator fully operational for the entire colony?
Embarrassed at her lack of knowledge, Janys didn't protest when Elondelle told her to get up and turn the chair sideways, then lie across it so that the backs of her legs were stretched out and pointing towards her instructor. "You missed twenty-six more questions than you got right," the older woman announced. "Which means that you completely failed your first test. Please keep your tunic above your knees while I deal with your calves."
Janys had figured from the way her shins were stinging that this would be no treat, but she had underestimated the power of the double switch. In addition, the previous application had been broken with pauses for questions. Now Elondelle administered the strokes rhythmically, beginning just above her ankle and moving towards her knees, then back down.
When she hit twenty-one, she stopped. "No more kicking," she told Janys firmly. "I want you perfectly still for these last five, or I will do it all over again."
Janys held on tightly to the chair legs as the double switch connected the remaining times. Now both the lower front and back of her legs throbbed along with her left hand. "Stand up" Elondelle ordered. "I want you sitting down facing me again for this final part. Your hands will be on the edges of the seat."
As Janys painfully rearranged herself, she saw Yagote had returned. The dark haired woman was hovering at the edge of the living room, obviously enjoying Janys's discomfort. How much of that did she see? Janys wondered.
Elondelle bent over Janys's chair, folding the tunic back so that it barely touched the top of her thighs. Next she rolled up the short legs on the prander to the level of the tunic, exposing the soft white area from her waist to her knees. Then she glanced back over her should at her ward. "Yagote, please come over here."
No! Janys silently pled as the sly-faced young woman took a place behind her chair. "I am afraid, Janys, that you are going to have difficulty staying still for this next part. The upper thighs are a very sensitive area. In fact, I know that before we are done you are going to wish that I had the same power my son does to switch your bottom instead. But this should be a very effective reminder to study for your next test. Hold her."
Before Janys could react, she found the full weight of Yagote wrapped around her arms and upper body, keeping her hands from coming off the seat. Sharp fingernails dug into her skin as Elondelle stood up and raised the double switch. Janys watched it come down, unable to turn away because of the way that Yagote had her pinned or do anything except cry out as the sticks met their mark.
Later Janys would realize that this final part of her punishment for doing poorly on the test could not have taken much longer than when her calves were spanked, because Elondelle used the same steady rhythm. But it seemed like forever as she felt Yagote's breath on the back of her neck and a slight shaking which she took to be laughter each time Janys reacted to the pain. Although she didn't want to cry in front of either of these women, Janys was once again sobbing well before the final stroke.
Finally Elondelle gestured to Yagote to release her grip, but told Janys sternly that she was not to touch her flaming thighs. "We will not be able to move on with your history lessons until you have mastered the beginning material," she announced. "For our remaining time together, you will have display standing up and facing the door, while Yagote sits at the desk and reads the chapters to you. This way I know that you will be exposed to the material. I suggest that you do not let your mind wander, because I will test you again at the end of the day to make certain you have listened."
Sometimes Janys would wonder how she got through the rest of the afternoon, holding the tunic and prander material up to show where the switches had left their mark while Yagote read line after line slowly, as though Janys were a small child unable to follow. She was still in this humiliating position when Martel returned to pick her up.
His calm blue eyes took in everything from his wife's reddened thighs to Yagote's oral interpretation of basic history. "What happened?" he asked his mother.
Because Yagote kept on, Janys was unable to hear what Elondelle told her son. Somehow Janys had hoped that Martel would be outraged by his wife's treatment. But instead all that happened was that he looked exasperated. "Please stop for a minute, Yagote. I wish to understand this situation. Janys, please tell me how you did so poorly on a test over material you told me you read last night."
"I—" she started, unable to think of a response.
Yagote broke in. "Perhaps she does not read," she said sweetly. "I have heard that in the high technology society, people use implants and hearing to gather information. Perhaps Janys does not read the written word well enough to understand this history book."
Martel began, "She knows how to write well enough to keep a diary—"
"Like hell I don't know how to read a middle school textbook!" Janys snapped "I've gotten through whole treatises on this planet! I bet I've read more about it than all of you combined!"
Suddenly everyone was staring at her. As she saw the small smile creep over Yagote's face, Janys realized she had fallen into the trap.
"But did you read this book last night?" Martel demanded, his eyes narrowing.
Already she could see the next lines unfolding. If she lied and said yes, her memory and concentration would be under attack. Yagote would smirk, and both Martel and Elondelle would conclude they were right to treat her as a child.
"No," she replied shortly. "I didn't even open it."
Silence reigned as Martel asked in a deadly quiet voice "Even though you told me you did?"
"Yes," she admitted, her face flushing.
He let her confession echo through the room for a moment, then turned to Elondelle. "If you will leave us alone for a while, I am going to have Janys record her failure to study in the bibalon to be addressed later. Right now we have something more important to discuss.
"Certainly," Elondelle agreed as she handed him the switches before hurrying the grinning Yagote from the room.
Even after the door closed Martel remained silent. Although she expected his anger, what she felt coming from him seemed more like sorrow. "Janys, I know I am asking a lot from you. I do not expect you to love me, or even trust me completely right now, even though you could. But if thi
s is going to work, we have to be truthful with each other. Some things I know will take time for you to learn, but surely you know how to be honest with other people. "
"I was afraid you'd spank me again if I told you I hadn't read the book," she confessed.
"Not last night." He shook his head. "I suggested you do so, and checked to see if you were finished, but I never ordered it. At most I would have required you to write down the item in the bibalon to be considered later. If you had nonetheless done well on the test, I would not have punished you at all, or I might have let my mother handle the matter."
"But I didn't know that!" she protested.
"Then you should have found out by telling me the truth rather than trying to avoid the consequences." He looked at her sadly. "Do you think me a monster even though I do not look for excuses to hurt you? Sometimes I must inflict pain to instill discipline or follow tradition, but I do only what is necessary."
As he'd been about "christening the marital paddle," she remembered. He was right. The only time he'd spanked her hard was when she'd defied and kicked him. Now she felt guilty about lying to him.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, her eyes down. "I won't do it again."
When she looked up he was looking at her quizzically. "If you are truly contrite, Janys, there is more that must be said."
What was he asking from her? Suddenly the trial flashed back through her mind. That horrible sentence she'd been forced to say. The one that guaranteed she'd be spanked or worse.
Yet if she didn't say it, she knew he'd never believe her apology, and things would never get better between them. Even if she'd give anything to be gone from here, could she destroy the tiny chance that they could live together if not as man and wife, then friends. Especially when she'd obviously been in the wrong and deserved some sort of sanction, even if she dreaded the form it would take.
"All right," she made herself say.
Martel brightened up at her response. "Then do you take responsibility for lying to me about reading the book?"
Captive Discipline (Demetrian Brides Book 1) Page 6