Innocent by Aishling Morgan Page A

certain of. Perhaps we shall discover? Now, we shall play dice, and on each throw, she who looses will be punished. First then, for a breast whipping. Kneel on the floor.’
    As Cianna and Babalyn knelt, Lai-Kasae walked quickly to a trunk, opening it to extract a horn cup and three six sided dice. Cianna took another swallow of her wine, her determination not to be broken rising inside her. Dipping further into the trunk, Lai-Kasae pulled out a short quirt, then a hank of red silk cord, the sight drawing a little whimpering noise from Babalyn.
    â€˜To add spice,’ Lai-Kasae said as she returned to them, ‘I must exceed your score if I am to punish you. Now, Babalyn, throw.’
    Babalyn took the cup, her hand trembling, and threw the dice out onto the rug. A total of fourteen spots showed, and Babalyn’s lips moved in what might have been a prayer. Lai-Kasae took the dice, shaking them in the cup and throwing them out. Only seven spots showed, and to Cianna’s surprise she gave a little drunken giggle. Cianna exchanged a look with Babalyn, but said nothing, taking the cup herself. She rolled, her heart sinking to see only five spots showing.
    â€˜Quirt her, Babalyn,’ Lai-Kasae ordered. ‘Six cuts. Stick out your breasts, Cianna.’
    â€˜I should whip her?’ Babalyn queried.
    â€˜Do as you are told,’ Lai-Kasae answered.
    â€˜Yes, Elite Mistress,’ Babalyn answered, picking up the quirt.
    Cianna had placed her hands behind her head, thrusting out her bare breasts towards Babalyn. The quirt came up, and down, a light blow, barely stinging.
    â€˜Harder,’ Lai-Kasae ordered. ‘Make her cry out.’
    Babalyn nodded, again bringing down the quirt across Cianna’s breasts, now harder, making them quiver and leaving a pale red line across the milky white surfaces.
    â€˜Harder, I said, much harder,’ Lai-Kasae demanded. ‘Come, I want passion. I want pain.’
    The quirt smacked down again, and Cianna gasped, the leather tip catching one nipple. Both were erect, sticking proudly up from the crests of her breasts, one now marked with an angry red line.
    â€˜Better,’ Lai-Kasae said, ‘now underneath. Make them jump.’
    Babalyn obeyed, planting a firm cut on the undersides of Cianna’s breasts to make them bounce and wobble. Cianna gasped at the pain, feeling the tears start in her eyes. Again Babalyn cut, higher and harder, and again Cianna squeaked in reaction, then again as the sixth cut fell, full across her nipples.
    â€˜Enough,’ Lai-Kasae stated.
    Cianna sat back, hugging her whipped breasts. Her breathing was fast, and ragged, her sex warm, and she knew that even if she was broken, she was likely to reach a climax first.
    â€˜Again,’ Lai-Kasae said. ‘Twelve cuts this time. Cianna, throw.’
    Cianna took the cup and threw, her mouth coming open in horror and all three dice settled to show a single spot. Babalyn giggled, Lai-Kasae giving a faint click of her tongue. Taking up the cup, Lai-Kasae threw, scoring twelve, then Babalyn, with eight. Cianna already had her breasts pushed out as Lai-Kasae reached for the quirt.
    She was trembling, her breasts quivering as Lai-Kasae bent the shaft of the quirt back, eyes glittering with pleasure. It snapped in, hard across Cianna’s breasts, drawing out a cry of pain. Lai-Kasae laughed, again drawing the shaft back, and again letting go. Cianna was watching, and saw the quirt smack into the flesh of her breasts, high up, making them quiver and bounce as she gasped in response.
    A third cut was laid in, and a fourth, until Cianna was trembling hard and mumbling prayers, struggling to keep her chest pushed out and not to beg. Lai-Kasae kept on, stroke after cruel stroke, until Cianna’s breast flesh bore a mess of scarlet welts, wet with sweat, the nipples straining to attention. Yet she held herself, until it was over, taking a hurried swallow of wine. Lai-Kasae