Piffka and Poofka watched intently as Madame Zastra explained every step of the
disciplinary procedures she would conduct with her young male slave.  She spoke to the
twins as if Albert was not even present.

“As you can see, Ladies, this small gym also doubles as my private play room/torture
chamber,” their landlady explained with a lingering smile.  “I know you’ve seen the few
pieces of stationary equipment I had installed here some time ago.  For instance: under
the tarp in the corner is a genuine torture rack, although I haven’t had to use it in some
time.  I’m thinking of shipping it to my daughter, Margo.  She’s a lifestyle dominant
mistress who lives in a castle on the edge of Bavaria.  I hope you get to meet her
sometime.”

Zastra lecturing continued, “I also have a wonderfully adaptable delivery table down
here.  It’s actually a cart on wheels, so I can move it around, anywhere I choose, even
when my male victim is perched aboard it.  There’s also an interrogation chair in the
corner that’s seen a lot of use over the years.  I’ve had dozens of males uncomfortably
restrained in that inhospitable device.  That chair could tell many tales, if it could
talk.  Then, of course, behind the heavy drapes, there’s a display on the wall with
various hanging whips, crops, and other troubling devices.  But Albert, my current slave,
has become so nicely obedient most of the time, I haven’t had to resort to any of the
heavy-handed tormenting equipment with him.  Of course, there’s always that possibility,
and he knows it.  It’s important to always make the male realize he could be suffering a
great deal more at any time.  I think it’s important to preserve the taunting vision of
copious, unknown punishments in the male mind.  It helps to keep them in line.”

Madame Zastra further explained, as she turned her attention toward her slave, “All
Albert needs, from time to time, is a good sound thrashing.  So, I occasionally string him
up here by his wrists and ankles near the center of my playroom to let him get a taste of
my unchanging feminine resolve.  I do most of his chastisement with my whips.  When I’m
through, he’s ready again to do anything I wish without question.  It’s like recharging
his batteries, and mine too.”

After her young, male slave was fully naked, Madame Zastra asked Piffka and Poofka to
help secure him in position.  Shackles were fastened to his wrists to draw his arms fully
upward, while his ankles were secured to rings in the floor.

“You see how easily it’s done, Ladies?” Zastra inquired.  “I always get the male high up
on his toes.  Then I stand slightly to the rear, and give him several healthy shots right
on his naked ass.”

Madame Zastra demonstrated her whipping stroke, and afterward she let each of the twins
take a turn.  Albert winced and moaned his discontent.  Piffka was a little surprised at
the zinging rush she felt after delivering a few blows to Albert’s quaking ass.  She
especially enjoyed watching him struggle to endure her personal punishment with his face
grossly contorted in pain.

Poofka also was intrigued by the inner sensation of feminine superiority while using the
whip.  The smiling twins were both exhilarated as Albert’s flesh reddened quickly, and in
observing the stimulating effect their punishing efforts had on him.

“That’s almost better than slapping his silly face,” Piffka told Poofka as she showed her
twin a radiant smile.

After a few more minutes, Madame Zastra signaled the twins to cease their whipping while
she lowered her slave to his knees to admonish him.  Albert was quaking with pain.