The flogging of an innocent handmaiden

I gazed at Takumi, dumbfounded.

"Flogged?"

"Yes, master," he exclaimed impatiently. "Please, let's hurry, or there will be trouble!"

It was so out of character for him to be worried that it made me anxious.

"Who does she want to flog? And why?" I asked, getting up.

"It's Emiko, master. Your wife is accusing her of theft!"

"What?"

My wife wants to flog pretty Emiko, her dedicated attendant who massaged me during the ritual of conception and later gave me a great blowjob in the forest?!

I slid my feet into shoes and jumped into the corridor.

"Emiko? A thief?" I mumbled as we rushed to Yukiko's quarters. "I would've never thought that."

"It's only a suspicion, master," Takumi said in a low voice. "Do you remember when we crossed paths with your wife and her attendants in the inner yard yesterday? That Emiko girl had a small smile on her face as you passed her by. I think that's what did it, master. Your wife got jealous, and that's why she had accused Emiko of theft."

I paused for a moment, stunned. "You mean… You mean, it's not true?"

"I highly doubt it, master," Takumi whispered. "Even the chōjo didn't believe it. And yet she's the one who has to flog the poor girl."

"But why flog?"

Takumi frowned. "To get the confession out of her."

I realized that we were losing precious time. "Hurry!"

We forged ahead.

The door to my wife's quarters slid open, and before Takumi was able to announce my arrival, I heard the sound of a slap followed by a muted moan.

The scene before me was upsetting. Emiko was on all fours, her bare back exposed in the middle of the room. There were already three soft lines across her back, indicating that the flogging was already underway. Next to Emiko was my wife's chōjo with a raised padded bamboo rod in her hands, seemingly waiting for a signal.

My wife Yukiko was standing tall next to the window, composure itself, her face serene and unruffled. My appearance didn't seem to surprise her at all. In fact, I thought I detected a spark of something – was it satisfaction? or malice? – before she blurted out a command.

"Hit," she exclaimed, and another strike of the padded rod landed on Emiko's lower back. The girl sobbed, her entire petite frame shuddering with the blow.

I raised my hand, and the chōjo lowered the rod, with what seemed to me a big relief.

Yukiko bowed her head softly in a greeting. "Good afternoon. What brings you to my humble quarters, husband," she asked in a sweetest possible voice.

Right then and there I knew that Takumi was right, and I had a big problem on my hands: a vengeful and disappointed wife. Yes, it was the same one that I had enjoyed filling up to the brim with my essence. The one that kissed me passionately when impaled on my cock. And yet, apparently, also a creature with a strong will and vindictive personality.

As they used to say in my former life, you better watch out…

"I was told that a punishment is being delivered without consulting with me, as the head of the household," I replied, trying not to stare at Emiko's body with pity. "That's not proper."

Yukiko took a couple of steps towards me, her gaze locked with mine. "I'm afraid you've been misinformed, husband," she replied, unperturbed. "This is nothing more than a simple interrogation of a suspect with the view of procuring a confession."

I frowned. "What sort of confession?"

"An admission of guilt," Yukiko nodded. "This wretch stole from me."

I glanced at Takumi. He still seemed supportive and combative, so I pressed on. "Based on what?" I asked.

Yukiko fixed her gaze at me again. "Is my word insufficient, husband?"

While I was searching for a response, Yukiko waved to the chōjo, "Proceed."

As the next strike fell across Emiko's upper back, just below the shoulder blades, Emiko gasped and jerked forward.

"Stop!" I cried.

Yukiko's lips curled into a small smile for a brief moment, until she bowed to me once more. "Why do we have to stop, husband?" she asked calmly.

"If an interrogation is required, then bring the suspect into my main hall, and I'll conduct it myself, as customary," I said, making stuff up as I went.

"But husband," responded my dear wife, raising her head ever so slightly. "Surely it's in my power to interrogate my own servants."

"It's in your power to forbid it, master," Takumi muttered right behind me.

"It's in my power to forbid it," I echoed.

Yukiko looked up, her eyes full of sadistic innocence. "But why, husband? Is justice not to be served?"

I hadn't realized I had such a difficult wife!

"Of course, justice will be served," I said loudly. "But we haven't established the woman's guilt yet."

"We will shortly," Yukiko smiled softly again. "Proceed."

"Wait!" I snapped at the chōjo as she raised the bamboo rod. "I have the right to interrogate any family member. I intend to do so right now, my honorable wife." Without waiting for further counterarguments, I turned to poor Emiko and asked as clearly and loudly as I could, "Girl, did you steal from my wife?"

Emiko tried to raise her head, but she couldn't. "I would never steal from my mistress, your lordship!" she exclaimed, sobbing. "I'd die for you and my mistress!"

"Is that not enough?" I asked Yukiko.

She sort of stared at me. "Would a criminal not deny guilt until they are forced into an admission?"

"If she swears on her life of her allegiance, I'm fully inclined to believe her," I replied.

As I spoke these words, Emiko turned with an effort and fell into Yukiko's feet, touching my wife's shoes reverently, her voice breaking as she cried out, "Mistress, my life is at your disposal, but I swear on everything sacred that I have never stolen from you, or anyone else! I'm ready to die for my mistress, but I'm innocent!"

Yukiko cleared her throat. "Following my husband's gracious example, I will 'forgive' the thief—for now," she announced in an indifferent tone. "She will be locked up until we decide her fate."