After their passing, he had stood and stared for a bit, watching the dust and splinters settle as Natsume-sensei shrugged and went back to his work involving Yosho’s sword hilt. Tenchi wondered just when his life had gotten this weird.
Then he remembered.
The pivotal moment had been when he had taken the keys to the cave (against his grandpa’s orders), opened the cave (ditto), and messed about with ancient mystical artifacts. Grandpa had never given him orders about the artifacts, but that was probably for the same reasons he had never told Tenchi not to hit himself in the crotch with a hammer. (i.e. he should have been smart enough to figure that one out on his own.)
So Tenchi had no room to complain about a fate he had brought upon himself. He was also in for more painful lessons with grandpa when the old man found out about this. Things had gone way past the point of Tenchi having a prayer of keeping it secret.
After a few moments to reach this conclusion, and a few more to let the sense of doom sink in as he considered Katsuhito’s probable reactions, it occurred to Tenchi that he ought to check on whether or not sensei’s girls really did have things under control. Using the pre-existing hallways and doorways, rather than try to walk through the rubble, he paralleled the path of destruction and arrived at a patio door (with all the glass blown in by an earlier explosion) in time to see Ryoko take her third stroke of the lash from Arisa.
This was far from Tenchi’s first time watching a woman being punished. Any male his age in his culture would have not only seen such things but received instruction in proper techniques for doing so. In fact, Tenchi had more of such experiences than most males his age. The business and sacred duty of the Masaki shrine was to train powerful and highly skilled slaves who would bring joy to their masters and protect them from all harm. Masaki Mikos were also called upon to perform similar services for the empire in general. Such slaves were not produced without firm, sometimes harsh, discipline.
On the other hand, Masaki shrine slaves were prized not only for their power and skills, but because of their spark and spirit. Tenchi had been taught to cherish and value women for their minds, their hearts, and their souls, as well as for their lovely compliant bodies. His father and grandfather had been quite clear that those lessons were far more important than in how to wield a whip or tie a knot. Discipline was a means for improving slaves and pushing them to become more than they thought they could be, not for breaking them down.
Finding the balance in that teaching often left him a bit torn when witnessing or performing such acts, even when performed or supervised by a calm and controlled person like his grandfather. Arisa had many good points, but calm and control were not among them. His first impulse was to go out and intervene before things went too far. Then again, Ryoko had certainly been bad, and the Natsume slaves were well within their rights to administer punishment for the destruction of the manor grounds.
Tenchi’s internal conflict quickly became moot as Ryoko’s cries made her feelings about the punishment quite clear. Being very careful of the broken glass, as he still hadn’t had time to reclaim his pants or pick up other clothing in all the excitement, he cleared off a small table and sat down to watch Ryoko twitch and moan in the chains he had placed on her.
Association with his grandfather’s slaves had given Tenchi a preference for powerful women. The confidence and might of such slaves was both a comfort, and a hint of danger that made games with them more exciting. When he thought he had captured Ryoko, he had discovered the thrill of a powerful woman made helpless by his own hand, even though it had turned out to be an illusion. Tenchi had also been raised on tales of taming and training dangerous and hostile women into obedient playful slaves. The list started with the Dark King’s Slave, and included a number of Amazons, rebels, bandits, pirates, and dangerous non-humans. Such stories were part of his heritage as a Masaki.
Thus, as much as he feared the oni dancing under the whip out there, she also piqued his interest on many levels. Given current events it looked like the oni was either going to end up as the property of Natsume-sensei or the Masaki shrine, as both were well qualified to handle dangerous and rebellious supernatural slaves. Odds favored the Natsumes taking possession as compensation for the damages, but he hoped she would go to the shrine so he might see her more often. Then again, if she went to the shrine, grandpa might shut her away in the cave again.
Tenchi’s mind went round and round on the possibilities, focusing on the possibilities of getting to finish what he had started when Ryoko was chained to the X-frame. However, most of his attention went into enjoying the show. (and nursing the growing physical evidence of his enjoyment.) When the beautiful, dangerous woman in chains screamed his name in the depths of her passion, his own passion and need flared even hotter. Thus, when Aria produced the massive magical dildo and prepared to use it, Tenchi moved forward to intervene.
It was not exactly a dash to the rescue, as bare feet in a room with lots of broken glass required a more cautious pace. Also, he was not sure if he wanted to step in because what Arisa intended was going too far, or because he wanted to be the one to take things that far, but it seemed to him that now was the time.
Then the demoness flickered and disappeared, leaving Kyoko’s blue mecha holding a pair of empty shackles while another pair fell to the ground.
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(Posted Tue, 14 Dec 2004 01:29)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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