“M-von-s watches as the blade tears the diaphanous fabric, each fibre severed with careful precision. He The initiate does not miss the way her breath catches, nor the manner her body tenses at the steel’s kiss. The knowledge that he the new slave will follow where she leads coils within, a tightening thread of devotion and fear.

“She is both slave and Goddess. Be mindful of the pain she receives tonight—you will endure the same. Accept it with the same grace.”

There is no hesitation. M-von-s nods, absorbing my words, understanding their weight. To take pain is not simply to endure; it is to receive. It is an exchange, an offering, and a claim.

The slave watches marie gwendoline’s ordeal. 

Supported by sergei, she yields to the whip.”

Sergueï opens the door of the vehicle and you step out, vacillating slightly on the uneven ground.

A few stairs, a landing and in the cooler air of a vast hall, a new actor to this invisible scene you are both spectator and elected subject greets you with a collar and leash. 

It seems that the hands of your new warden are female, softer yet determined. You follow the nearly imperceptible sounds of her steps to a flight of stairs spiralling downwards and a narrow corridor. A door opens, you are ushered in your cell. 

“One after the other, the canes whistle and cut a lattice pattern of swollen white ridges across your buttocks which first turn to red, then purple. Each new cane slotting its strikes in the imprints of the previous ones, deepening the dents until the tender skin gives and blood rises to the surface.”