head right in half with it. But I was curious about it because of the way it can be manipulated by various actions.” Vic tried it – Steve was right. The slightest flick of his wrist caused a slight recoil at the tip. “But there is a martial arts guy here in town who’s familiar with it. Would you be interested in getting in touch with him?”
Vic looked at the sjambok; he flicked his wrist and watched the end snap in double-time. It was far more interesting than the other implements hanging on the wall. “You know, I think I would. Can you make that happen?”
“I most definitely can, buddy. Let me see what I can do. In the meantime, feel free to practice on the horse here or on one of the benches. Start very gently, see what you can do.” Steve thought for a minute, then said, “Hey, try the same kind of application as the evil stick, you know, hold your wrist still but pull the shank back with the other hand and let it fly, see what happens. I’m going upstairs to make a phone call. Stay down here as long as you want. When you come up, just make sure to lock the door behind you.” Steve disappeared up the steps and left Vic by himself in the dungeon.
Walking to a discipline post, Vic stood even with it and put the tip of the sjambok against the post, reached out and pulled the shank back, then turned it loose and let it go. The tip struck the post with a loud pop. Wow, what if that was skin?, he asked himself. He tried again, this time pulling it back about half as far as he had the first time. That time, the pop was more mellow. He wished he knew a way to find out what it felt like. Then he decided he’d try striking the post with it – too harsh. His next attempt was to hold it perpendicular to the post and twist his wrist. The tip wiggled and popped the post with a satisfying “thwack,” but it was pretty much out of control. Vic wondered, Could I control this with some practice? Would it work? He was about to try something else when Steve appeared in the doorway. “Come upstairs; we need to talk.”
Vic put the sjambok back in the corner, but Steve looked back and said, “No, bring it. It’s yours if you want it.” Vic went back, retrieved it, and took the steps two at a time.
“I called the guy here in town, and he said he’d be glad to work with you. You in?”
“One hundred and ten percent.”
“He’ll call you. Welcome aboard! You’re our newest Dom in training.”
Vic was standing at a jobsite in Lawrenceburg when his phone rang. A tingle of excitement ran through him – it was a number he didn’t recognize. “Hello, Cabrizzi here.”
“Vic Cabrizzi?”
“Yes.”
“This is Alex Hendricks. I work at Bennett’s Martial Arts.” YES!!!!, Vic almost screamed. “How are you today?”
“I’m quite well, thanks. And you?”
“Very well. Steve McCoy tells me you’re looking for instruction with the sjambok.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’d require three weeks of instruction. Will that work for you?”
Vic couldn’t answer fast enough. “Yes! It sure will!”
“We can work out a payment . . .”
“No need. It’s no problem. Just tell me where and when.”
By the time the conversation was over, the dates had been set. Alex was wasting no time, and Vic was glad. They’d start the next week and work until he was satisfied that Vic was proficient, and that was fine with Vic. Then he dropped the bomb.
“By the way, Steve shared with me your reason for wanting this training.” Vic held his breath. He wasn’t mad at Steve – Alex had a right to know what he was getting into – but he didn’t quite know how to respond. “Vic, are you still there?”
“Yeah, Alex. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. It was fine for Steve to tell you, but it’s just such a source of, I don’t know, humiliation?” He paused, and Alex wondered if he’d hung up. Just as he was about to ask if Vic was still there, in a soft, weak voice, Vic said, “It’s almost destroyed
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