Ardent Caning for the Villein's Chastisement

The villein's heart pounds as she stands before the master, his stern gaze unyielding. He believes in the old ways, in the harsh discipline of the body to purify the soul. Today, it's the cane. He takes his time, running the thin rod along her back, tracing the path of her impending stripes. She shudders, but remains still, her breath hitching as the first lash lands, a sharp, stinging line of fire. The master counts each stroke, his voice steady, as her skin blooms with welts, her cries filling the empty chamber.

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