Which do you prefer, the video or the words?

The following morning, after breakfast, Anne-Marie told O and Yvonne to follow her into the bedroom. From her writing desk she took a green leather coffer which she set on the bed and proceeded to open. Both girls squatted on their heels. “Hasn’t Yvonne said anything to you about this?” Anne-Marie asked O.

O shook her head. What was there for Yvonne to tell her? “And I know Sir Stephen didn’t either. No matter. Anyway, here are the rings he wants you to wear.”

The rings were of stainless steel, unburnished, the same dull finish as the gold-plated iron ring. They were oblong in shape, similar to the links of a heavy chain, the rounded metal being approximately as thick as the diameter of an oversized coloring pencil. Anne-Marie showed O that each ring was composed of two U-shaped halves, one of which fitted into the other.

“This is only the test model,” she said, “which can be removed after it’s been inserted. The permanent model, you see, has a spring inside, and when you press on it, it locks into the female slot of the other half of the ring and cannot be removed, except by filing.” Each ring was as long as two joints of the little finger and wide enough for the same little finger to slip through it. To each ring was suspended, like another ring, or as though to the supporting loop of an earring, a ring which was meant to hang parallel to the plane of the ear and form its extension, a round disk made of the same metal, whose diameter was the same size as the ring was long. On one of its faces, a triskelion in gold inlay; on the opposite face, nothing.

“On the blank side will be your name, your title, and Sir Stephen’s family and given names,” Anne-Marie said, “with below it, a design composed of a crossed whip and riding crop. Yvonne is wearing a disk just like it on her necklace, but yours will be worn on your loins.”

“But…,” O ventured.

“I know,” Anne-Marie replied, “that’s why I brought Yvonne along. Show yours, Yvonne.” The red-haired girl rose to her feet and lay back on the bed. Anne-Marie spread her thighs and showed O that one of the nether lobes had been neatly pierced, half way down and close to the base. The iron ring would just fit into it.

“In a moment I’ll pierce you, O,” Anne-Marie said. “It’s nothing really. What takes the longest is placing the clamps so as to be able to suture the outer and inner layers, attach the epidermis to the inner membrane. It’s much easier to bear than the whip.”

“You mean to say you won’t put me to sleep?” O cried, trembling.

“Of course not,” Anne-Marie replied. “You’ll merely be tied a little more tightly than you were yesterday. That’s really quite sufficient. Now come long.”