Ariana's Scandal, Part One: The Guidance

I just got finished assuring you that everything in the Ruling Class province was neat and orderly, and now the first story I tell you will be anything but. Apologies. Ariana is a special case, a special disorderly case. Scandal didn't visit the Province very often, but Ariana had her way. It will take me a few parts to get to the scandal, but when it comes, my.

Ariana was one of the smartest and most beautiful women of her time, a direct descendant in the line of the Queen,which would have made Ariana queen, if there still was a monarchy instead of a ruling council. She was also kind, and sweet and hot tempered, terribly dramatic and positively regal, all wrapped up together.

Our story starts one average morning when Ariana was twenty, approaching twenty-one.


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There were several important age milestones in every ruling class woman's life. The woman prepared for her first (and perhaps only) pregnancy at thirty. At forty she took her mother's voting place on the ruling council, unless she had been needed earlier than that, but no later than forty.

Twenty-one, though, was the magic milestone, the age where a young woman took her first male slave, and began to build her own household.

Ariana was nearly twenty-one and could not wait. None of the young women found the maturing years easy, but they had been particularly unbearable for Ariana. There came a point where the barely clothed or naked men who filled the province, and her mother's house, were no longer just so much expected scenery but the object of desire, or rather, unbridled, unadulterated, unedited lust. Her body demanded to be let loose on men of her own. The society demanded she spend years learning how to treat and own a man, before she could actually own one.

Heading off to her semi-weekly guidance with William, Ariana was in mood. There's a special foul temper that visits only the young, fueled by exasperation at hearing the words "when you are older, not yet" too many times, and that temper clouded all over Ariana today. She walked unescorted, having lost her mother's escorts when she was eighteen, left adrift for the three long years between then and twenty-one when she could claim her own men.

Reaching her destination, Ariana practically stormed into the marbled lobby of the guidance center, neglecting the pleasantries she usually exchanged with the men who fronted the greeter's desk. Taken slightly aback, the men pointed her toward the room she would find William. Again she stormed through that door, calling out dramatically as she did, "I'm in no mood today, William, this is all so much futility."

And then, not fully through the door, she stopped. Look what William had done.



He'd presented himself, already trussed and secured, on one of the most elaborate ritual punishment contrivances in the province. It took two men at least an hour to set one man in it properly, and the apparatus itself many, many hours to move. Ariana blushed that she hadn't been her normal pleasant self to the men at the desk, who must have been the ones to labor so carefully.

The beauty of the design of this particular apparatus has been written about numerous times by the Sons of Class, who also claim it was one of their own artists who drew the plans generations ago, (but it is so like the Sons to take credit for every thing of beauty, who knows.)

The Uniter, as it was called, was crafted of each type of strong wood found in the land, accented with cherry and burled walnut, adorned with gorgeous carvings. The ropes were handwoven, and the metal parts forged by hand as well -- careful craftsmanship, no automatic assembly on any piece. The materials were drawn from the speciality shops in the Communities, traded through the business women of the City, and the final work assembled in the Province. If the Sons were right about an artist of theirs being the designer, then the name "the Uniter" was particularly poetic. Every part of the land contributed its best. Tall and impossibly strong, the Uniter could hold the largest man immobilized and helpless, spreading him open from every angle to a woman's least whim.

And there was William, her guide for the last two years, trussed and strapped into the magnificent Uniter, held open for her. Ariana entered the room fully, shut the door, and stood to look. Her heart skipped at his beauty.

Some days she forgot how handsome William was, as she was often too irritated with his insistence on perfection to appreciate. Ariana would make fun of him under her breath as she left the center, "Another set of ten with the crop, Ariana, please. A man can feel when you are not emotionally committed to the swing. The last ten felt uncommitted." After such an admonishment, she would deliberately over-commit on ten terribly harsh strokes that hit the wrong spots, and William would say patiently,after catching his breath, "Another set of ten with crop, Ariana, please. A man beaten from anger in your heart will never serve you as well as you deserve. Again, please." This gave her another line to make fun of on the walk home, but with a light smile on her lips. William had taught her most everything she knew, even if she'd been exasperated at the length of the process, she appreciated him.

Today, there would be no gentle admonishments from William, as William couldn't speak. The front part of the Uniter included a long strap with a large leather gag, fit into the man's mouth as the last step during ceremony. It muffled a man's cries and mercifully gave him something to bite down against the pain.

Ariana moved to William's side, the closest she had ever been to a man in the Uniter, although she had spent many hours studying pictures and instructions in her classroom work. His ass was held up high, his head held down low, the traditional starting position in a device that allowed for innumerable position changes with little effort on a woman's part. William's legs were spread sharply apart, fastened at the ankles to a complex metalwork bar, steel at the core, adorned with the copper and brass on the exterior.

Ariana touched William's presented ass gently. While she could feel the electricity of her touch go through his body, she couldn't see his body move at all. That's how securely the Uniter brought the man into its mechanism, making him one with the wood and rope frame. There would be no verbal or non-verbal admonishments from William today.

What to start with, where even to begin? William always told Ariana what the implement or implements of the day were, what she needed to practice. Her eyes flicked to try to catch his eyes for a clue, but she couldn't see them. Not only did the Uniter hold his head so very low, it held it down, and secured tightly. To read his eyes, Ariana would have had to kneel on the ground, nearly flat, and look up. She was on her own.

No other idea, she started with her favorite, the thick leather strap. It felt good and solid in her hand and made most satisfying noises. Her first couple of swings were off, she heard William saying in her head, but the next few were on, and after that she caught her rhythm in delivery. She covered his ass in red welts and then moved down to his legs, skipping the sweet spot of the top back of his thighs to build up his mental anticipation of when the strap might meet them.

So much of it is mental, William told her, so much of it. The magic is in the connection of the actions of the body to the thoughts of the mind, flowing back and forth between woman and slave. Too few people grasp the magic, Ariana, but you can. You have a gift. You will see men's souls.

Too many flowery words, it had seemed to Ariana, whenever William had spoken like that to her, when all she really wanted to know was how much longer until she could have her own men to have sex with. But in this moment as she paused, leather strap in the air, to strike the first blow to the top of William's thighs, his words came back to her. Hitting that sweet spot the right way would connect directly to his core. She knew it. And she understood. Though William was incapacitated from any kind of communication, though Ariana hadn't spoken a word since her first entry outburst, communication flowed between them through the connection of her strap on his skin, and they were mentally united.

Her strap hit the top of his right thigh hard, and lightening fast the left thigh, and just as fast again the right one. Despite the tight bonds, she could see his body jump at least micrometers, which encouraged her speed and the power behind her strokes even more. She could hear his muffled cries against the gag, as each thigh was hit in rapid succession, an erratic, unpredictable pattern, throwing him continually off balance as to what to expect. Ariana lost herself for some minutes in the flow between her and William and back again, lost to time and space, lost to reality and logic.

She switched from strap to crop, to vary the pain sensations being sent from her to William. She switched again to flogger, having forgotten to think through any taught techniques, just flowing, flowing, flowing.

Finally, the aching of her arm and own labored breathing broke Ariana from her trance. As she stopped to catch her breath, she tuned into the physical effects of the afternoon on William. The bottom half of his body was covered, double covered, multiply covered in angry welts and stripes, his whole body dripping in sweat.

God she was thirsty, how thirsty must he be.

Hoping she remembered how the front mechanism of the Uniter worked, Ariana moved forward to raise William's head, luckily hitting the right combination of buttons and levers on the first try. Still secured, his bottom half moved down and his torso raised. Ariana could finally look him in the eyes. William returned a loving look, filled with such pride in her, that again, Ariana's heart skipped. She fumbled as she tried to remove his gag. William was so patient as she fumbled, and finally his mouth was free, although he didn't speak.

Ariana impulsively kissed him square on the mouth, completely forbidden, but the only gift she could think to give him, other than the water he clearly needed. His mouth was so dry.

"Water on the way, " she said softly. She was back at his side in less than a minute with water, which she fed to him gently and he drank eagerly.

She touched his face. "You are so beautiful. I will buy you, no matter what the price, just as soon as I have my own household."

William smiled and shook his head lightly. "Ariana, you know that I've been used by many, many women. A used man is not a slave for your house, that's just so much talk. It's nice talk, though. I would love to listen to it all day."

She touched his strong chest, and ran her fingers across his nipples, watching for his cock to supply the proper reaction. Tentatively, it did, in spite of the pain in the rest of his body. She kissed him again, lightly and then with more force, compelling him to respond stronger. She whispered hoarsely in his ear, "If the penalty would fall on me and not you, you know what I would do to you next." William whispered "thank you" in return, his cock showing visible appreciation for either the original idea or the reprieve given from terrible consequences.

Ariana moved back from William and the Uniter to survey the new position and its possibilities. She took a long drink of water.

"I think the crop on the chest is next, William. You hate the chest, you know I know it. That's next."

William's mouth free, he said softly but clearly, "As you wish, Ariana. I offer myself up to you."

Flattered beyond words, Ariana said nothing. She selected the largest, stingiest crop from the assortment and confidently pulled her arm back for the first strike.

There were hours yet before it was time for her to leave.


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And there you go. That was the afternoon of Ariana's informal graduation from William's guidance. I told you this part of her story first because the guidance William gave her is so enmeshed in who Ariana became, you can't understand her fully, or what happened, without him. The two continued to meet semi-weekly until Ariana's time was up, but there was never another admonishment that passed William's lips, only submission. She gave and he took, which was of course, the final lesson William had to offer Ariana -- what it felt like for her to conquer her first man.

I hope you're not too attached to William, though, because he isn't in much of the rest of the story about Ariana. She never did give a thought to trying to buy him when it came time to make her household; his place in her life was past. Ariana had much more pressing present matters falling on her when household construction began.

William never lost his attachment to Ariana, who often filled his thoughts. Perhaps we will meet him again when he intersects with another story I have to tell. His guidance affected so many of the women of the land for so long.

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