Under Imperial Discipline: Courier to the Tsar - Chapter 2: Part 2

Now the room snapped into place.

In the middle, they’d wheeled in a large frame. It looked like a St Andrew’s cross, with straps fixed to it, but instead of an X, it formed an inverted Y. Dmitri supplied the name: the Fork, ⅄. The sign of the Holy Trinity. The mother, the son, and the daughter. The Lord and the Lady.

An attendant walked into the room carrying a cane on a cushion. Mikael was only half-focused. He wondered which of the collared was going to get punished, and why.

The attendant presented the cushion to the Grand Duchess, who took the cane, kissed it, and whispered something that sounded like a mantra. She then turned around and offered it to Sergei.

To Mikael’s surprise, she walked over to the ⅄ and positioned herself in front. Her attendants cuffed her wrists and pulled them up to the top of the ⅄. Finally, they carefully drew her ankles apart and eased her knees open. They remained bent down, supporting her.

“May the Mother guide you,” He heard Sergei say, followed by a sharp swish, then a loud crack.

“Praise the Mother,” the Grand Duchess replied.

A red welt stood out across her large buttocks.

“May the Son enlighten you,” Sergei said before striking her again.

“Praise the Lord.”

A second welt rose above the first.

“May the Daughter bring you Comfort.” Sergei added the third stroke, perfectly parallel, beneath the other two.

“Praise the Lady.” The whole room responded in unison. Mikael said nothing, but He could feel Dmitri wanting to join.

The attendants immediately unfastened the Grand Duchess. She turned, kissed the rod, and hugged Sergei.

Sergei handed the cane to Andriy and let the attendants strap him to the frame. This time his ankles were spread and secured to the legs of the lambda frame, his limp cock dangling beneath him.

The Prince gave him three parallel strokes, the second above, the third below.

This time Mikael did join in the chorus at the end. “Praise the Lady.”

Mikael half expected Andriy to hand Him the cane. Instead, he passed it to Yelena.

If Mikael thought Yelena would not hit as hard, He was quickly proved wrong. She swung the cane harder than either of the two men. Andriy even grunted on the second stroke, and Yelena smiled slightly at that. Clearly, there was some competition between them.

Mikael tried to find the answer in Dmitri’s memories. He did not worry about placing the marks parallel; He was certain of His skills. He only needed to know how hard to cane Yelena. As hard as she was hitting Andriy, or as Sergei had hit the Duchess.

Yelena put all her effort into the next one; the cane swished, then cracked. Andriy’s curse was swallowed by the “praise the Lady” chorus. She had drawn blood and wore a self-satisfied smile. An attendant wiped the blood from Andriy’s buttock; Andriy snatched the towel and inspected it. He gave a disbelieving laugh, then turned to Yelena, kissed the rod, and hugged her. "You haven’t lost your touch. That really did hurt. The Mother will be proud of our Hotep."

Yelena took that as a compliment. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Mikael was ready to take His turn; Dmitri’s memories were confusing. To Dmitri, this was no more than a religious ritual, with nothing erotic in it at all, while Mikael was trying to concentrate on containing His erection. This was arousing to Him, but nobody else seemed moved by it.

What came next was even more confusing. Yelena handed the cane to the Grand Duchess rather than Him. She took it and then promptly gave it to Sergei, saying, "Count, my arms can no longer do the Mother justice. Will you give the Hotep in my name?"

"It would be an honour, Your Highness. Of course." Sergei accepted the cane.

Yelena was already being strapped in place. Mikael was thoroughly confused.

Why wasn’t He the one caning His wife? Only when He called Yelena His wife did Dmitri supply the missing piece. Yelena was not His wife. She was Sergei’s Countess.

"May the Mother guide you," the Count said. A swish, then a crack, and a welt.

“Praise the Mother,” Yelena said.

“May the Son enlighten you.” Another swish, another crack, another welt.

“Praise the Lord,” Yelena answered.

It felt wrong to Him. She was married to the Count, and yet the memories kept placing her at Dmitri’s side.

“May the Daughter bring you Comfort.” Sergei laid on the final stroke.

“Praise the Lady,” said the chorus.

This was a formal Hotep for the Mother, and He had no official place in it.

Yelena kissed the rod and embraced the Count. Her eyes stayed on Mikael, then dropped to His cock.

Shit. He’d got turned on watching Yelena take it, and Dmitri’s disapproval landed hard. Lack of respect.

Yelena came to Him and grabbed His cock.

"Is that for me, Dima?" she whispered in His ear.

“Y-yes,” He said. He might as well tell the truth.

"First time I’ve seen you get stirred watching me take the cane at a Hotep."

She began pulling on His cock.

"It turns me on, knowing I do this to you. And I’m looking forward to that coach tomorrow." With that, Yelena turned away.

Mikael stood there, flustered.

"Dima, when you are ready," the Grand Duchess said.

He looked at her. Then at the others. They were all staring at Him.

Yelena held the cane and tapped it against her hand.

Oh shit. Dmitri’s nagging suddenly made sense. He was still expected to take the Hotep.

Yelena tried to catch His eye.

So be it. May as well get it over with. Not what He had expected, and now He dreaded that cane in her hands.

They fastened Him to the frame.

Shit. His shields. How in the world was He going to explain that? There was a reason He had not been hit in lifetimes. His shields would pop up to protect Him, or something was going to happen to prevent the strike.