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Punishment Stay in OWK July 2003

 

 

Report from a Punishment Stay with Madame Loreen

 

 

By slave Bota

 

 

Having come home in one piece from 5 days in the OWK, I thought I would give you a look into a few of the events.

 

At Prague Airport I was actually met by Madame Loreen Herself. I saw Her at once when I came into a rather congested arrival hall. From the OWK photos and films I knew She is a very beautiful Woman, but She has also a natural aura of superiority that makes a meeting for real exceed everything. Though my legs were quite shaky, I managed to walk up to Her and introduce myself.

 

Before going to OWK I knew there would be few possibilities for a slave to effect events, but I was firmly determined on two points: 1) I should follow the etiquette and kiss the Guardess’ shoe at the airport, and 2) I should be totally compliant, obedient and hardworking in order not to earn myself one single extra punishment stroke during the stay.

 

I broke point 1 already at the airport. I will come back to how I succeeded with point 2.

 

When I later told Madame Loreen I was sorry for not kneeling properly at the airport, She was very understanding and said the setting for such scenes was bad in the arrival hall. This does not at all mean She is reluctant to display Her slaves in public. I will come back to this too.

 

Madame Loreen is an expert in finding parking places close by and we had just a few steps to walk. Inside Her car, I was handed a gag, "Put this on!". After having fumbled it in place and fixed the strap, I was ready for the steel handcuffs.

 

Madame Loreen had a few errands to make outside Prague. I was left in the car, gagged and cuffed, while She went around with Her doings.

 

To my relief, I was quite soon allowed to remove the gag. Madame Loreen was hungry and we stopped by a restaurant for lunch. It was a very pleasant meal and I sneaked in a last beer before the 5 days on "water and bread.". In my application for re-education I had written that "creature needs severe whipping and caning". This was based on a misunderstanding and I used the opportunity to tell Madame Loreen so. The intention was not get more than "normal" for punishment stays and I asked Her not to be too harsh with me. Madame Loreen was very understanding to this also, and said they at OWK knew very well that future slaves tended to be a little hot-headed when sitting by their PCs at home, but She also said that punishments would always be harsh if I didn’t obey Her.

 

The drive to Cerná went fast and with a sizzling feeling in my stomach I was led through the walls of the OWK.

 

After having gone through the welcoming trivialities, I was ushered down to my lodging for the days in the cellar of the palace, only bringing with me a minimum of toiletries. I must admit I got scared to see it. 1,5 x 1,8 m. Rough stone walls on two sides. Thick steel bars on the other two and a lockable door. Plain concrete floor. Absolutely no inventories apart from a heavy steel collar permanently chained to the wall. It did not look comfortable, to say it carefully.

 

I was relieved when Madame Loreen later allowed me to bring five blankets to make a slightly softer bed than the plain concrete, and to cover myself for the chill. I can tell you it was cold and humid during the nights. I also got a bucked for use during nights, but I am glad I did not have need for it.

 

In the evening the heavy collar was locked onto me. It only allowed me to move halfway to the door. Not that it mattered much, I could not have got out of my cell in any case. My handcuffs were also locked tightly together. This made it quite a struggle to make up a nice bed (as if that was possible) and to find comfortable positions for sleeping. Being 1,8 m myself, I had to position myself diagonally. In order not to hit my head against the rough stone wall, which I did once, I placed my legs through the bars when I needed to stretch. I didn’t sleep much the first night and I was still behind on sleep when I left OWK four days later.

 

Shortly after all locks were safely secured and good night to Madame Loreen properly said, the light went off. It went black. I have never experienced such darkness before. Half asleep and half awake I lay in my cell contemplating about my situation and all the exciting things that had happened through the day. This had been a special Monday, quite different from the standard grey ones.

 

I soon lost feeling for time, but I was surprised when the light suddenly went on and I heard three pairs of high heeled boots coming thundering through the torture rooms of the prison. I jumped up into kneeling position just in time before Madame Loreen, Madame Christine and Madame Sarka were towering over me. Madame Sarka wished me good morning with a wicked smile. What a change since I just hours ago had left my own nice bed. Three of the most scaring Ladies of OWK looking at me with wicked expressions, me all locked up in Their prison.

 

 

 

Madame Loreen on a nightly inspection.

She is in a thundering mood.

 

 

It turned out just to be a nightly inspection and They soon left. All went black again. My blankets were in chaos and I had a long struggle with my bed ahead of me.

 

Light came gradually and I was better prepared when Madame Christine came and got us out of our cells for morning exercise.

 

Madame Loreen used the pillory on the ground floor of the Long House for the regular whippings. 25 basic strokes plus any extras earned throughout the day. She is an expert! With riding crop, cat o’nine, single tail whip and cane. It is amazing how She can gradually build up the sting from stroke to stroke, and from one punishment session to the next. I am convinced She very carefully tries out from the lenient side what each slave can take. Her regular whippings hurt, but are well within the pain tolerance. It is a different matter if She has been provoked and is angry!

 

On Wednesday we had a small party in the Pub. Madame Loreen, Madame Sarka and Madame Christine together with four slaves. A very nice Mistress from Switzerland joined us later with Her slave/husband. They actually celebrated their 10th year anniversary that day.

 

The Ladies enjoyed champagne and wine and we slaves were allowed to fill our bowls with fresh water. We had a great time with lots of laughter in a relaxed and pleasant atmosphere. Don’t misunderstand me. There were never any doubt about who were who. We slaves sat on our tiny stools looking up at the Ladies residing at the table high above.

 

By winning in a card game the slaves got the possibility to have wishes granted. I had an early win and used the opportunity to ask permission to kiss Madame Loreen’s bottom. She looked divine in Her new leather trousers. I also got myself some champagne, served on the surface of Madame Loreen’s shoes. Later the slaves got various tasks, including making a song praising the Ladies, and performing it together. The Ladies seemed very happy, so I suppose we didn’t do too bad.

 

The evening was so enjoyable that I had totally forgotten the punishment stool I together with another slave had carried into the pub earlier on. But the Ladies had not forgotten! Madame Sarka announced that time had come to recall the slaves’ records of the day to see if any punishments were required.

 

Madame Sarka’s slave was first out. The Ladies had inspected his room and found both cigarettes and liqueur he had smuggled in. The poor guy was in a bad, bad spot! Madame Sarka calculated the sentence. Together with some other minor things, the smuggling had earned him 82 strokes. She would also add some bonus strokes in case She should feel for it.

 

82 strokes were quite harsh, but cigarettes and liqueur were also quite serious. I thought for myself that I would be in a much better position. Not a spotless day, in no way, but nothing in the vicinity of what this guy was up for.

 

Madame Sarka is very distinct and accurate with the cane and I started to feel sorry for the poor chap. Madame Loreen must have seen this, because She called me over to Her. She had actually called me twice, but I did not hear the first one. "Why don’t you come when I tell you to?". I apologised and admitted that my thoughts had been carried away. "What were you thinking about?" I told Her I felt sorry for the slave on the stool and that I was glad it was not my bottom up there. Madame Loreen just said "You should not be sure about that. Wait and see".

 

Madame Sarka was carrying on with Her work. The slave took it well, but he must have become disappointed at 82, when it became evident that Madame Sarka felt for delivering bonus strokes. She was not finished until after 100 strokes were passed.

 

I was the next one up. It became quickly clear that even minor errors could add up to a significant number of strokes. We were soon at 50 and that was before accounting for what Madame Loreen several times had referred to as the big mistake. I had been uncertain about what the big one could have been, but when She eventually made it clear, it really hit me. It was unbelievable that I could have been so stupid. Madame Loreen had been teaching me important Czech phrases and She had in particular seen to it that I knew the phrase ‘Jsem blbec’ - ‘I’m stupid’. She was right, this was an important phrase for me. Jsem blbec are exactly the words for how I felt.

 

For you to understand the big mistake, I need to make a resume of what had happened earlier in the day. Madame Loreen had taken me on a tour outside the OWK. I had showered and changed into ‘civilian’ cloths. The cuffs on ankles and wrists were unlocked and removed. My wide leather collar with D-rings and decorations was the only remaining connection to OWK, but it was on the other hand sparkling visible. Madame Loreen made it clear that I should wear it all day and that I was still Her slave even when we were outside OWK.

 

 

 

"You shall come with Me as My slave, when I go to Brno today!"

 

 

Our first stop was in Slavkov u Brna south of Brno, which is a famous historic place where Napoleon I in 1805 won the battle against Russia and Austreich in the so-called Three Emperor Battle. The castle in the village is now a museum. Madame Loreen sent me on a guided tour while She Herself had a stroll in the park and enjoyed a cup of tea and a salad. I am not sure whether the other tourists looked mostly at me or at the paintings. I hope my collar did not disturb them too much. In any case, they got something to talk about.

 

Madame Loreen wanted to do some shopping and we stopped in the centre of Brno, the second city of the Czech Republic. I will say it only once, Madame Loreen is a thorough shopper. Looking at everything in the shop, trying everything, same again in another shop and maybe back to the first after having got a new idea. I followed Her around, 1 meter behind and carrying an increasing number of bags. It was a few incidents were I started to walk in front, but I was immediately instructed back in position Eventually I also got used to standing on display in the middle of shops while waiting for Her to be finished.

 

The plan was that we while shopping should find Her a present from me, which She found in the first shop, and that we should also bring with us presents for Madame Christine and Madame Sarka. For Madame Sarka stockings and cosmetics, and for Madame Christine stockings and flowers. After having gone through a number of beauty shops without finding the right colours, Madame Loreen decided that it should be stockings and flowers for Madame Sarka too.

 

We had lunch in a nice restaurant. I had mineral water and bread, but took the risk of ordering a steak beside. Madame Loreen did not object and I was allowed to eat it.

 

Our last stop was in a flower shop, where Madame Loreen composed two nice bouquets for Madame Sarka and Madame Christine. Then it was driving back home to the OWK. I felt happy about the eventful day out, but I would not have been that happy if I had been aware of the big mistake.

 

We found Madame Christine and Madame Sarka in the pub and handed over their presents.

 

Then I will revert to the events of the evening.

 

I had been awarded 50 strokes and Madame Loreen was about to give me a telling off and award strokes for the big one. She lifted Her hand and pointed at the window opening. "There are Madame Sarka’s flowers and there are Madame Christine’s flowers. Now you tell me, where are my flowers?" I was stunned. There were no good answers to this one, or to be more correct, I had only one answer: "There are no flowers for You Madame Loreen".

 

The 50 were instantly increased to 100.

 

I had offended both Madame Loreen and Madame Christine early in the morning when I, half asleep in my prison cell, had mixed their names. Madame Loreen decided that She Herself should take care of the first 80 and that Madame Christine should top it up to 100. Not exactly what I had expected only a few minutes ago. 80 strokes from an angry Madame Loreen followed by 20 by cane from an offended Madame Christine.

 

I bent over the stool. Madame Loreen had a last look at the window, seeing the two large lovely bouquets and the wide, open, empty space filled with nothing gaping at us from between them. And She went to work.

 

I can assure you that both Madame Loreen and Madame Christine really went for it!

 

I should count each stroke and say "Thank You Madame", both in Czech. I can tell you that taking hard strokes is tough, but taking them at the same time as you try to remember a Czech number you scarcely know, makes it even worse. You don’t have the possibility to prepare for the next stroke.

 

Madame Loreen had had me counting strokes into the thirties during the previous days, so there I was on home ground. Everyone who has tried the "rzhi" sound needed through the forties knows what kind of challenge that is, but I got through it too. Fifties and upwards were virgin territory for me to explore under the increasing stings from Madame Loreen’s collection of crops, cat o’nines, canes and maybe singletail. (I am not certain about the last one), and it became quite a lot of stumbling. I looked forward to Madame Loreen reaching 80, but I did not look forward to Madame Christine starting at 81!

 

Fortunately, I was told to start at one for Madame Christine and I was back on home ground. Madame Christine is an artist with the cane and being able to count them does not necessarily make it is easy to take Her strokes. I was relieved when I at last could say "Dvacet, Dekuji Madame" and discover that no bonus strokes were coming up.

 

After properly kissing Madame Loreen’s and Madame Christine’s boots, I was allowed to return to my water bowl.

 

Then, question: How was it?

 

Answer: Great!

 

My experience from a punishment stay at OWK, under the instruction of Madame Loreen, is that the Ladies are highly professional and very good at finding the optimal intensity in the physical punishment for each individual trainee. I felt completely safe.

 

I was not given more whippings for the rest of my stay. A little disappointing maybe. Madame Loreen and Madame Christine had a close look at my welts the day after the party and Madame Loreen might have thought I had received enough, since I had asked Her not to be too harsh. In any case I am not complaining, sitting here on a well striped bottom and with my head full of fantastic memories.

 

Madame Loreen's proposal for a field trip came as a surprise. It made a change to the routines and maybe it did soften up my stay, but I am not sure about that. Being and acting as Her slave around the city of Brno was a much stronger psychological experience with more training effects than working as Her slave inside the OWK. It was a fascinating experience and I would not have been without it. A punishment stay is not only spent at the whipping post. Most of the time outside the prison cell is filled with rather tedious work. I pulled weeds for hours and dusted all of the Queen's huge palace from tower room down to ground floor. Such work is what the field trip replaced.

 

Dusting the Palace may sound boring, but I can assure You it was not. If I had not concentrated on doing a quick and good job, I believe I may still be inside there enjoying the incredible amount of fantastic inventories in all those rooms we know so well from photos and movies.

 

Night Club Wanda was being prepared for the following week’s Special Vacation event. We slaves had a hard time flushing it up, furniture, floor, bar, cages and torturing devices, everything should be cleaned. The Ladies sat comfortably in a group, chatting and enjoying soft drinks. "You slave, come here!". Madame Sarka was pointing at me. I came promptly, I did for certain not want to make Madame Sarka mad. Madame Christine and Madame Sarka were discussing rope bondage and Madame Sarka would teach Madame Christine a few of Her tricks. "Kneel down! Hands up and behind your head!" I was to be the ginny pig. I never felt more like an object and less like a human. I was handled around, but it was only the ropes and knots that were present for the Ladies. I could just as well have been a sack of flour.

 

Madame Loreen instructed me to clean the floor and arrange the furniture in a group close by the bar. I believe that is where the OWK Ladies usually sit. I started dusting the chairs. Madame Loreen went furious. "I told you to clean the floor, not the chairs! Don’t you listen to what I say?!" If you are planning a visit to the OWK, I will give you one advice. Don’t ever start doing anything else than what you are told. But it is good training. I really got it into my marrow that a slave shall obey, always.

  

 

"Why did it take so long?!" Ever heard it? I can assure you that I have, Madame Loreen was seldom satisfied. But it made good training, I really got it into my marrow that slaves shall hurry up. One day when I was enjoying chicken bones and other scraps from Her dinner plate, She sent me to the kitchen for a paper napkin and to bring it to Her at once. Slaves don’t use knifes and forks at OWK and I went first to the sink to wash my fingers. Madame Loreen came thundering into the kitchen. "What in the world are you doing?!" I told Her I just wanted to clean my hands before touching Her napkin. It looked almost as if She accepted the explanation. Madame Loreen is not unreasonable, not always.

 

 

 

"Why did it take so long?!"

 

 

Only the perfect is good enough when working for the Ladies. As a slave you just have to get used to "This glass is not clean!" "Why is it so much water on this floor?!" etc. etc. etc. But it makes good training. I got it really into my marrow to make an extra check that all were fine before reporting back to Madame Loreen and ask for more work.

 

Praises were scarce. Hearing Madame Loreen say "This is good" when massaging Her feet brought me almost to heaven. When She afterwards allowed me to kiss Her toes, then my day was made, disrespective of the torments I otherwise had been through. In the evening, I could adjust the steel collar as comfortable as possible, place my head down on the concrete prison floor and think "This has been a wonderful day".

 

I actually think I was in a better physical condition when I left than when I arrived. My (not very large) belly was slimmed down through a strict diet and lots of physical work and exercise.

 

Fortunately I had no problems with dry bread and water. Another slave arriving a few days later didn’t eat his first lunch. Madame Loreen made it clear that it was all he would get. If he didn’t eat it for lunch, it would be his dinner. And if he didn’t eat it for dinner, it would be his breakfast tomorrow. I hope for his sake he would get used to the OWK menu, he was up for a two weeks stay.

 

A lot of calories are burned during one hour at the power station. Madame Loreen used Her whip generously to have me at high speed through intervals, but She also allowed me to walk for periods while She was away for other doings. After what felt like ages, I heard Her talking behind me and I assumed She was telling me to stop. And so I did. I shouldn’t have! Madame Loreen was raging. "Did I tell you to stop?!" I didn’t risk a "Yes Madame" to that one, all I had was "No Madame, I am very sorry Madame". That was not good enough and She instantly wanted me at top speed. She made Her intention unmistakably clear by laying more force than ever into the strokes. I was glad it didn’t last long before She really said stop.

 

 

 

Madame Loreen will be driving Her horse hard today

 

 

When Madame Loreen let me out of my prison cell Friday morning, She was dressed for horse handling. She brought me directly to the riding hall where my wrist cuffs were locked to a racing cart. I was not going anywhere without that cart. It was evident what type of morning exercise Madame Loreen had in mind.

 

Madame Loreen directed me onto the track with the whip and had me at even speed through the first round. Cracks from Her whip told me to run fast through the next and my breathing got rather heavy by the end of it. Instead of whipping me on, Madame Loreen let me slow down to even speed through a third round. This exercise was real fun and I hope to be back on the track at a later occasion. I also hope to make a better performance then.

 

Madame Loreen’s approach to teaching Her slaves the Czech language is simple and to the point. She wrote the lesson neatly down on a piece of paper. I was locked into a small cage in the corridor just outside the pub, and was handed the lesson through the bars. There I sat, memorising Czech phrases for "Madame, may I speak?" "May I please go to the WC?" "May I please drink water?" "I don’t understand" "I am Madame Loreen’s slave. I am happy" etc etc etc etc. People came and went, but I remained - crumbled in the cage - until I got it all right to Madame Loreen’s satisfaction. Madame Loreen also had me through several rehearsals to ensure that the lessons were permanently engraved in my mind before I left the OWK.

 

Being a slave at OWK makes me see things in a new perspective. I am at the absolute bottom of the ladder. Even Madame Sarka’s dog seemed to consider it had more right to my water and bread bowl than I had myself. The OWK perspective is from the sole of Madame Loreen’s boots. I should greet Her by kissing Her boots. I should thank Her by kissing Her boots. I was awarded by being allowed to kiss Her boots. I suppose I don’t have to tell You the procedure for saying good night through the bars of my prison cell.

 

Fortunately I loved kissing Her boots, but unfortunately, She had the nasty [:-)] habit of withdrawing Her feet out of reach quite soon and just when I started enjoying it the most.

 

Anything above boot level is upon Madame Loreen’s specific instructions. I have told you that Madame Loreen is a very beautiful and resourceful Woman, which you undoubtedly already know for yourself, but She is of course totally out of reach for a slave in any other respect than admiration as a Goddess. In the OWK perspective Madame Loreen’s bottom looks incredibly attractive. Not primarily because of its beauty, but because of its symbolic posture. Elevated and also used to sit down with. To approach Her bottom is to submit to Her from beneath at an elevated level. It is a privilege seldom granted, but extremely exciting when it happens.

 

On my last day, Friday, I was instructed to follow Madame Loreen out of the pub. She stopped at the door as usual waiting for me to open it. At the same time She bent slightly forward, making Her bottom dominating and inviting in my view. I could not resist the temptation to kiss it. Of course She got angry, but this time I believe I saw a tiny trace of smile in the corner Her eyes. I suppose I had been trapped. Nevertheless, I was up for face slap, facka.

 

The sting from facka ranges from pure pleasure to pure punishment. I had received quite a few facky the last days, in particular from Madame Christine. When lighting Her cigarettes She awards one facka for each failing attempt. I believe She must be incredibly good at blowing out the fire without being seen. Madame Christine’s facky are slightly on the punishment side of the scale. The stroking She makes on the my face afterwards is however so pleasant that I gladly would blow out the fire myself.

 

The facka from Madame Loreen today was a real stinger, far further out on the scale. I took it well and thanked Her for it. It was well deserved.

 

Outside the pub and halfway down the corridor Madame Loreen stopped and said that I now could ask for permission. She had taught me the Czech phrase for "Madame Loreen, may I kiss your bottom?" I managed it fluently and I will never forget it. This time She let me go on for a while. It was an exciting occasion that I will cherish in my memory.

 

 

 

"Yes slave, now you are allowed to kiss My bottom."

 

 

Madame Loreen and David drove me to the airport. I sat a little exhausted in the back seat, thinking about the glass of the superb Czech beer I was going to have. Before that I asked them to stop at a shopping mall. I brought the English - Czech phrase book with me and went inside. It didn’t take long, I should only make one purchase.

 

Madame Loreen got Her flowers.

  

  

  

  

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