I looked at my raging princess and smiled. Then I leaned to the side and looked past her at the lodge entrance where Banshee stood with her mouth hanging open. I smiled and Mouse glanced back and started to panic, she was caught flat out throwing a tantrum while nude.

I casually tossed her dress back to her and asked Banshee, “Yes?”

Well Banshee did her thing and started to babble so I firmly said, “English”, and she went to stammering as she tried to think of the English words for whatever she had to say.

I simply pointed at the floor and said, “Sit”

Turning to Mouse I said, “Sit please”

She started to sit on the floor and I said “No” and patted the bench next to me, wife sits here. With that I had made clear my view of the pecking order. Everybody settled and I breathed for a moment collecting my thoughts. How long had it been since I had a drink? It was obviously way past time in my current life.

“Banshee, what is it you need?” I asked. Mouse helpfully translated and babbling woman began to babble again. Mouse eventually broke in and replied to her then turned to me and said “It is my fault, I was supposed to measure you for stick.”

Well her English was still a bit rough but improving by the hour, I think it was coming back to her with use. So we measured me for a walking stick and Banshee took off again, Mouse began to prepare evening supper and I dug into my pack looking for my bottle.

I had finally located both bottle and cup only to have them both taken from my hands and Mouse said, “Wife do for you.” Well I could live with that, I think. So I dug out a cigarette, accepted the cup of bourbon and waited to see what could possibly go wrong next.

Meat was sizzling and something was boiling when Banshee and Mary showed back up, supper was a simple affair of beans, corn and meat. Most of it I suspected was the remains of the left overs which suited me just fine and my belly had absolutely no complaints.

I was basking in the glory of a warm meal with Mouse sitting next to me and Banshee sitting at my knee when Mary took center stage. She was blushing brightly and had something hidden behind her back. So much for my quiet evening, I had a sneaking suspicion this Mary thing was about to get a lot more complicated than I was interested in.

I held my cup out to Mouse and she refilled it for me, I then passed it to Mary. “I think you will probably need this”, damn my gut instinct. Mary took the cup and drained it, damn that was two full shots.

“You have something to show me Mary?”, and so it started.

**** ****

Mary was agitated, clearly nervous, ashamed and excited at the same time. I really expected her to break out in either sobs or song in any moment and that was the problem I needed to at least but a band-aid on. Tonight was as good as night as any and I had two women next to me I hoped would help me if things got to messy. I just needed Mary to be somewhat stable and predictable until I got her to Rulo.

I motioned Mary closer, she knelt in front of me and offered up her hand-made switch with both hands. She kept her eyes downcast and was shaking just a little, I reached out and took the offered creation.

It was actually an amazing work, practically a work of art. She had intricately woven multiple lengths of willow together with thin strips of brightly colored cloth and what appeared to be a thin strip of white sapling skin. The handle was what felt like well worked rabbit leather attached with the same white sapling skin. The business end made me shudder, it had obviously received the most attention and was shaped like a flat whisk. It was in the shape of a flower and had bright colors woven into it as well, it also included a nasty looking ring of thorn vine.

I almost dropped it when I saw that last bit and it took me a moment to control my revulsion, this wasn’t about me this was about Mary.

“Mary this is truly beautiful!” I exclaimed and I could see her eyes shine brightly with pride. I didn’t have to fake that part, it was beautiful. If observed from a distance. In a glass case. In a museum somewhere far away from me. A picture on the Internet would have just fine by me.

“Mary are you a weaver?”, I asked. She merely nodded in response. Banshee was staring at the switch from hell with obvious interest and a slight smile, that girl was twisted. Mouse had slid away from me and was now about two feet away putting as much bench between herself and me with any obvious look of revulsion on her face.

Mary was still looking expectantly at me and I had to do something fast. So I hardened myself and asked, “Do you want me to punish you with this?”

Fuck me she nodded. Mouse was furiously shaking her head and I didn’t even want to see what Banshee was doing, I was frightened to know.

“Mary you’ve been very good today, why should I punish you?”

The damn inside her started to creak and crack and she blurted out, “I need to be punished, I deserve to be punished, I need to atone!!” She pulled off her dress and bent offering her buttocks. “Please punish me”, she pleaded, “I can’t sleep if you don’t punish me.” She was begging and crying, fuck.

So I punished her.

It was truly horrible. I hadn’t practiced with that instrument of terror and the first two swats were far harder than I would have liked. The head was heavier than the staff of the switch and whipped around to make impact. The thorns stuck for a moment when I pulled it away. Truly horrible.

Mary screamed with the first swat, whimpered with the second and simply moaned with the very light third and fourth. I managed to prevent the thorns from penetrating on the last two. Those thorns had to go. After each stroke Mary said “Thank you” and once even “Please more”.

I handed the switch to Mouse and commanded, “Cut those thorns off now.” I was harsher than I meant to be but Mouse pulled out her paring knife and went to work immediately. She tossed each thorn in the fire as she removed it. Thank the Gods one of these women wasn’t a freak.

Speaking of freaks, Banshee had her dress off and was smiling at me expectantly.

“No, this is Mary’s. If you want one you have to make your own.” I immediately knew I was going to regret that last part after Mouse translated for her. “Put your dress back on.”

I turned back to Mary who was kneeling again, still crying furiously but obviously sexually excited as well. Time to bring in that help.

I turned to Mouse who gave me the switch back. “Mouse, please ask her why she needs to be punished.” She just gave me a confused look, “Please”

Mouse knelt down next to Mary and asked gently, “Why must you be punished?”

The flood gates gave way to the unspeakable force of misplaced guilt and Mary wailed loudly.

“It’s my fault Baby Ruth is dead!”

She collapsed into Mouses arms shaking, sobbing and keening loudly.

Holy Shit on Toast this was bad.