Bringing the boy up on deck in the merest hint of dawn;
the sky a haze of stars against a black velvet sky.
Knowing his punishment for being an unashamed
nancy the boy lowered the ill-fitting bodice
to expose his tender unformed back;
bony shoulder blades and pale shoulders in the moonlight shivering as the boy awaited the blows of his master’s whip. Bob stood away,
adjusting the needless domino mask
being all part of the charade of being stalwart
men of the high sea. Cracking the bit to make
sure the rawhide was sharp as razors,
Bob snapped the leather tong over the
prickling flesh raising a slash of beacon red.
“Bring it down more, boy,” said the cat.
The boy bringing down the garment further
so his lower back was open to the crisp sea air;
the whip snapping again in a blistering sting
directly to the boy’s spine. The boy's eyes
remained dry the whole time he was being
flogged but biting his upper lip he drew
blood as the cat did the same unleashing
blow after blow that echoed for miles
out over the sea. “Do you mind your master, boy?
Whoever that might be?”
“Yes, sir,” the boy whimpered.
“******, boy, speak up,” came another lash
across the crossed gashes already bleeding
down the narrow back.
“You think you’re a man, boy?” questioned his
tormentor striking yet another hard blow
out of the seeming blue.
“No, sir,” the boy whined.
“What are you? A girl?” hissed the cat,
laying lash across the taut skin.
“Yes, sir!”
“What was that, boy?” said the cat, striking again.
“I’m...I’m a girl, sir.”
“Then I’ll treat you like one. Get on your knees,” the feline ordered. “Now lower your head.” Walking off Bob called from the hold, “and stay that way til full daylight. If not, you’ll be right back here tonight.”
“Yes, Master,” simpered the willing submissive.