Part one here

At one point Galen pulled her up by her hair so he could see her face. “Am I getting through to you?” he snarled.

A woeful Tzara tried to catch her breath to speak and he spanked her already tender red bottom again so that she yelped.

“Yes sir,” she gasped.

“My lord, you will address me as my lord,” Galen told her sharply, “I am going to teach you manners if it takes 20 years to do it.”

“Yes Sir, I mean, yes my lord,” she quickly amended.

Three months of this, Tzara thought miserably, there must be some way to override the program.

“Better,” Galen sighed. “What kind of courtesan are you? Haven’t you been trained at all?”

Tzara sniffed, not knowing what to say. “I am not a courtesan, that was a mistake,” she pleaded.

“I am beginning to agree,” Galen rolled his eyes. For the next few minutes he added another round of sound spanking so that his new girl twisted and danced across his lap and then he let her stand. “Now you will go and stand in the corner until I have decided what to do with you,” he told with a heavy sigh.

Tzara looked in horror at the hard bare stone walls where he had pointed. This was an outrage. She was an officer of the fleet. She was a senior lieutenant with 12 years’ service to her name.

“Are you going to be defiant again?” Galen said in disbelief.

“Look, you don’t understand, I don’t want this, I am certainly not going to stand in any corner like a…” she told him angrily. “Like a child.”

Before she had been taken by surprise, no she was ready with a drop kick to his groin and an elbow slice to his neck. Even if she couldn’t break the scenario, she could easily go on the run and live off her wits for three months. Well not easily, she thought as she weighed up her options. Maybe she could turn the whole thing into an adventure game and do some hiking, or maybe become a bandit.

Galen looked amused and continued to shake his head in disbelief. The girl may have not been trained, but he had. Reaching for the bell he decided sterner measures were called for.

Tzara saw him tug the bell pull and wondered if he were summoning some guards. She had to act.

The drop kick failed. It was almost as if she had never learned one. Instead she fell heavily to the floor on her behind, which hurt far beyond any holo-suite injury she had ever experienced before.

“You have earned yourself a serious punishment already, don’t make it worse,” Galen let out a slow breath. “Just go and stand in the corner like a good girl before I lose my temper.”

Tzara drew her mouth into a determined line and got her feet. She hated giving him the satisfaction of rubbing her bottom, but just then the relief was needful. “You are not getting this are you?” she said in a tone that she always reserved for subordinates.

She lunged at Galen and tried to take him off his feet. It was like hitting a mountain and without breaking a sweat he turned her around and tucked her under his arm as if she were luggage.

“Get off me you… you…” she cursed.

Galen sighed and again took his seat on the chair. It was an easy matter to put the girl back across his knee and turn up her skirts.

“No, n-no, no,” she gasped.

His hand blasted her bare bottom like an oaken paddle. The searing sting took away her breath and despite her resolve she was yelling again in less than a minute. The first spanking had been bad, now she was going to learn what a spanking could be.

She did not hear the maid arrive and once she realised they had an audience she wanted to die. “This isn’t happening,” she yelled.

“Ah Maria, I am having some issues here with this one. Can you fetch me a paddle, a stout wooden one, a cubits length should suffice,” he told the girl casually.

Tzara was mortified and renewed her efforts to break the man’s grip.

“Yes my lord,” the maid executed a curtsey.

“Then make the upper dungeon chamber ready for use. Tonight it will have a guest,” Galen continued.

The girl cocked an eyebrow and looked the spanked woman over with a renewed interest. Who would defy Lord Galen? Indeed, who would want to, she wondered? Then she shrugged and scurried to obey. Maybe her lord would put her to use this night if the courtesan was in disgrace.

“Now where were?” Galen redirected his attention to Tzara.

“Look you don’t have to do this,” Tzara protested.

Galen spanked her hard so that she gasped. “Oh I think I do,” he grinned.

*

By the time the maid returned with the paddle Tzara was finally standing in the corner with her hands on her head. This time she resisted the urge to protest and stood fuming with her face just centimetres from two walls, her face almost as red as her exposed bottom.

“Thank you,” Galen said as he took the paddle from the maid. “Is the dungeon ready?”

“It will be my lord,” Maria said and curtsied.

Galen gave her a curt nod and tuned back to his new courtesan. “Are you ready to obey yet?”

Tzara made a pout where he could not see it and squirmed as she clenced and unclenched her buttocks to try and ease the sting.

“Are you still going to be insolent?” Galen asked her.

“No,” Tzara said in what she hoped was a neutral tone.

Galen thought she sounded somewhat sullen. He sighed.

Tzara, sensing his displeasure, began a moment of panic. “No my lord,” she said quickly, wishing she had remembered. He is the captain here, she told herself, lord equals sir; he rates a sir. A simple lesson, she chided herself, but one she had now learned.

“Better, but it won’t save you tail,” Galen chuckled.

Tzara’s eyes flew wide open and she fought to keep calm. What had she done? “Please my lord, I am sorry,” she pleaded.

“Good,” Galen said in a softer tone, “That is a start anyway. But you have to be punished.”

“But…” she began, I have been punished, she thought, “Please my Lord,” she tried not to sound whiney.

“You were rude and insolent and you must be punished,” Galen said as if explaining the obvious. Of course she had to be. “Show that you can take it like a good girl and I might go easy on you.”

Tzara gulped. There had been talk of a dungeon. She knew that during the Middle Ages in Earth’s Europe dungeons could be torture chambers. I can’t be harmed, she reminded herself. But she was already learning that the pain protocols were way too relaxed in this scenario, to say the least. Also so far there was no off button or exit procedure. “Yes my lord,” she said, trying to sound agreeable. It was a humiliating concession under the circumstances.

“Alright, come with me,” Galen said.

Tzara turned and finally lowered her arms so that her hands could massage her hot welty bottom.

“Oh, you take that gown off and leave it here,” he remembered. “The maid will take it to your room later; that is if I allow you one.”

Tzara made to protest but his face brooked no argument.

Once she had removed the dress he told her to leave on the corset, as the tight undergarment was called. She doubted she could have removed it without help anyway. The ridiculous attire was black and stiffened with what might have been steel as part of the fabric. It more or less supported her breasts, but from her hips down she was naked back and front. The corset only emphasised her lower nudity and she felt a rush of self-consciousness before this man.

Galen smiled in approval and hefted the paddle menacingly.

“Where are we going my lord?” she asked in as normal a tone as she could muster. Despite everything the man was strangely attractive and she wondered if now that she had ceased being confrontational they might move on to the sex part. After all, this was supposed to be recreational with her needs in mind.

Galen gave her a warning look and said nothing as he led her from the room.

Memo to self, she cursed inwardly: next time, read the small print and do the settings manually.

The walk down the hall was unsettling. For one thing she was acutely aware that not only was her bare bottom on display, but it had been clearly very soundly spanked. It was embarrassing. She thought about hiding her sex with her hands, but that seemed more undignified than toughing it out. Hey-ho, she thought, I just have to play the game.

She tried to relax for the moment and take in her surroundings. Knowing her way around might come in handy. Still it was hard to feel at ease when half naked in a strange place. She tried to focus.

The castle was clean and airy. Fabulous tapestries hung at pleasing intervals along the walls and there was even carpet on much of the floor. This was a story book version of a castle, she realised, a fantasy. What did that tell her? A hand strayed to her sore bottom as she wondered what kind of fantasy this was. The small act reminded her of her nakedness and she blushed.

Luckily they encountered no one in the halls or on the stairs. Although Tzara did hear voices beyond the great wooden and ornate doors that they passed. But Galen led her on down various winding staircases where instead of windows, flaming torches lit the way. It was almost romantic.

The last door was a heavy one. It was made of dark wood and iron, with great spikes protruding at out of brace work. The upper dungeon, she presumed.

Galen unlatched the swung the great door wide as he led her forward. Although Tzara hung back and wondered if she could run for it. Her tummy tingled like it did just before a test or a hyper jump.

“This way,” Galen commanded.

Tzara swallowed and braced herself. Keep your wits girl, she chivvied and reluctantly followed the man inside.

The room was not as dingy as she had expected. It had high vaulted ceilings of dark grey stone, but the edging to the vault supports and upright columns was cut from yellow-white sandstone, or something like it. There were cages to the back, some of which were suspended from the ceiling and looked barely large enough to hold a large bird, let alone a person.

Along the walls were manacles and chains, which were set next to hooks hung with whips, great paddles and items the use of which Tzara could only guess.

That was not all.

There was a great wooden diagonal cross that held restraints and upright crosses that clearly prisoners could be suspended from. There were also trestles and benches, the purposes of which were obvious even to Tzara. She shot a nervous glance at the paddle Galen had brought. She prayed to the stars that he did not intend that she bend over one of those.

Oddly there were too a few rows of wooden rails, some set diagonally so that the sharp edge was uppermost, and some of which tapered from a wide base and looked like elongated saddles. One of these had small spikes along sides near the top, but these were more like pins, she thought. Nothing here was intended for serious torture, not that she could see. It was all a teleplay version of a dungeon.

“Now this is where you will spend the night,” Galen told her. “Be a good girl and it won’t be too bad. But first you must kiss the paddle and bend over the padded medium trestle for one last spanking. Then all will be forgiven.”

Tzara glowered at him and worked her throat. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. This was too much. The heat rose to her face. If he was going to beat her then there was nothing she could do about it. But she wasn’t going to just surrender to it and cooperate.

“Please, don’t do this,” she said quietly.

Ignoring her social faux pas Galen extended the paddle. “Kneel,” he said.

Tzara shook her head. I won’t do it she thought.

Galen sighed heavily and closed his eyes in frustration. “Kneel,” he repeated sharply.

“No,” Tzara replied. Her tone spoke of resolve.

To be continued.