Luke looked down at his muddy boots and the ground between them.
"I'm sorry, Master."
"Sorry? Sorry are you?" The small green-skinned Jedi answered. "Sorry to have been seen perhaps, hmmmm?"
"No! I'm really sorry! I shouldn't have done that."
Yoda sighed.
"But you did."
The wizened old Master shook his head. It had been a long time since he'd taught someone this old – more than 100 years. As a member of the Council he'd been too busy to take on a Padawan learner of his own; he'd settled for teaching lessons to the younglings. They were easier to train: not yet clouded by the temptations and fears of adolescence. If one of his young candidates had lashed out in frustration as Luke had, Yoda knew what he would have done. He'd kept a small strap on the wall for just such a purpose. But Luke was so much older, and one had to be more careful with punishing older students – it tended to make them more angry than obedient. And Yoda couldn't afford to lose another one to the Dark Side.
But that was just the problem! Luke was already showing signs of too much aggression, too much anger. Maybe a good whipping was just what he needed. Yoda had to make sure that when he punished Luke, the boy would recognize his guilt and accept it. If he resisted, he would be filled with anger and the desire for revenge. Those led to the Dark Side.
Luke looked back up, defiance returning to his face.
"I know I did! I said I was sorry!"
"Hear you nothing that I say? Fear, anger, frustration, aggression, the Dark Side are they. You must resist< i> your anger."
Luke's shoulders slumped. He was exhausted. He walked over to the nearby – and now uprooted – tree. He had been moving rocks with his mind – just a couple rocks – when the tree branch had clawed his back. He'd lost his focus and the rocks had fallen; it was so maddening to have a tree break his concentration. He'd spun around and shouted at the small tree, heaving all his rage and pent up frustration upon it. And it had suddenly torn itself out of the ground and flown back ten or twenty yards. It was then that Yoda had shouted at him and he'd realized what he'd done; he'd lost control, he'd given in to his anger.
Luke picked up one of the branches that had fallen off the tree when it had flown through the air. He looked at it, realizing just how powerful the Force had made him, and how easy it had been to let the Dark Side control him. He had to get a hold of himself!
"I really am sorry, Master," he said, more softly – and more sincerely – this time. "It's just . . . sometimes I lose control. This is just so frustrating. Maybe I'm not cut out to be a Jedi."
Yoda sighed again. In another time and place, he might have agreed with Luke; the boy was far too old to begin the training. But these were not ordinary times. And part of Luke's frustration came from how hard Yoda was pushing him. The old Jedi Master was cramming a lot of material into a small time; Luke's unique strength in the Force made him physically capable of handling it, but mentally he was having to absorb in a few short weeks what a Padawan might have learned in a year.
"You must learn control. Yes. Control. Disciplined< i> you must be."
"I'm trying to be more disciplined, Master, but it's just so hard."
This was what Yoda wanted to hear. If Luke would only accept his punishment, take it willingly, it would help him. His mind would become conditioned to avoid dark thoughts. Perhaps he would make a strong Jedi after all.
"A Jedi accepts the consequences of his actions," Yoda said, burrowing his gaze into the far taller young man. "He can not escape them."
"But what is the consequence? I knocked down a tree."
"Easier and more seductive the Dark Side may be. But pain and suffering always accompany it."
Luke sat down on a nearby log. "But I didn't feel any pain," he said, feeling a bit confused.
"The tree, the tree! See what has happened to the tree. Life< i> the Force is, and living is the tree. See what you have done to it. It< i> has felt your anger. It< i> has felt the pain."
"But then the tree felt the consequences of my actions, not me."
"And now so must you," responded the Master.
"I must feel the pain."
"Yes."
"But how? I can't rip myself out of the ground by the roots!" Yoda looked down and drew something in the ground with his short cane. "Punished, you must be."
That wasn't exactly what Luke had been expecting, but now that Yoda said it, it made sense. If he couldn't control his anger, he should< i> be punished. It was the only way.
"Okay. I understand."
Yoda continued drawing randomly in the dirt. "Just as a Jedi must be one with the Force, you must accept the full force of your punishment. You must not shield yourself from it."
"I understand."
"You must remove your clothing."
Luke had been hunched over in guilt on his log, but now his back shot ramrod straight. "Excuse me?"
Yoda looked up at Luke from the dirt but said nothing. For a flickering moment, the Master was tempted to use the Jedi mind trick: need those clothes you don't.< i> But he restrained himself. The boy would have to comply on his own, or the punishment would not be as effective.
Slowly, Luke relaxed again, the guilt returning after the initial shock.
"Are you sure?"
Yoda slowly nodded.
"Alright," the young apprentice responded a bit skeptically. He grabbed the bottom of his sweat-stained beige tank top and pulled it up over his head. His chest and stomach muscles rippled beneath his glistening skin. He put it next to him on the log.
He bent over, untied his boots, and pulled them off, setting them on the ground below his sweaty shirt. Then he pulled off his socks. He stood up, his bear feet on the outdoor ground for the first time since arriving on Dagobah. It felt strangely good to be free of footgear. Then the young man unclasped his utility belt, unsnapped and unzipped his pants, and pushed them down to his ankles before stepping out of each leg and setting them with his shirt. The fit, young Jedi-to-be stood before his Master in only his standard Alliance-issue jockey shorts.
Yoda shook his head. "Your underwear; you will not need them."
Luke's cheeks flushed, but he obeyed, pushing down his briefs and adding them to the pile of clothing on the log. Luke felt the air brush past his bottom and between his legs. He suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed. Luke's whole body tensed as he steeled himself for what was to come. "I'm ready, Master Yoda."
"Naked< i> you are. But ready? We shall see."
At the word "naked" Luke had blushed even more deeply. He moved his hands over his crotch to cover his embarrassment.
"An apprentice hides not from his Master," Yoda snapped. Lukes hands quickly dropped to his side.
Using his cane for support, Yoda hobbled over to the young man. He looked up at Luke and lifted his cane in the air.
"These," the Master said, poking Luke's testicles and penis with the tip of his cane, "these are nothing to be ashamed of. Part of the body are they, nothing more."
Luke half-jumped when the wizened old creature had poked him, but he dared not cover himself again. He had to accept his punishment, Yoda had said. And he would.
"To the tree you must go."
"But –"
"No. You must go."
Luke turned from his Master and walked over to the fallen tree. Yoda noted his pupil appeared just as fit from behind. With each step his muscles rippled beneath his sweaty, pale skin. The young man's rump was particularly round and firm; he would stand up well to his punishment. After a few more steps, Luke stood before the upturned roots of the tree.
"Now what?" he asked.
"Accept the pain you have given the tree," Yoda responded. The Master closed his eyes, bowed his head slightly, and lifted his arm, pointing at Luke and the tree.
Luke had no idea what the heck that meant. He stood there for a moment, and then reached out to the tree with his mind. He felt the need to touch the tree more closely, so he bent forward, leaning over the roots (which reached about waist high) and putting his hands on the trunk. He felt the bark, but nothing more, really. Why wasn't he able to connect with the tree like Master Yoda had said?
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw different sticks and twigs that had fallen from the tree hovering in the air and forming into groups. Then he felt the tree's roots wrap around his ankles, pushing his feet (and legs) wide apart, and around his waist and wrists, holding him in position. He was totally bent over with his white backside thrust up into the air, his testicles and penis visibly hanging beneath, resting against the dirty web of tree roots. That's when Luke finally realized what was about to happen.
And it did.
The first bundle of fresh switches whistled through the air and lashed the young man's protruding white mounds. Luke's body jerked and his head flew back in pain as he yelled out, but the tree roots held firm.
"Aaagghhh!"
The bundle of fresh, whippy rods paused in the air.
"You must accept your punishment," Yoda said forcefully, his eyes still closed in concentration. Luke relaxed his tensed muscles and breathed deeply. "Yes . . . accept. The consequence of your actions it is."
Luke's bottom was already stinging as fresh, thin pink criss-crossing welts rose across the two cheeks. But he knew this was right, and he pushed his bottom further into the air.
Yoda nodded in approval, and the bundle whistled towards its target again. The switches flayed the boy's bottom again, a few twigs breaking off and flying through the air, but this time Luke didn't yell out. He gave only a small grunt.
Four more times the bundle of rods struck his exposed buttocks, and still Luke did not call out. His bottom was a collage of pink and red welts, barely any white skin peeking though. The pain was unlike anything Luke had ever felt; his uncle had given him the belt a few times back on Tatooine, but never anything like this. Of course, there weren't any tree branches to use on his desert homeworld, so his uncle had never had the chance to whip Luke this way.
A fresh bundle of switches rose into the air behind Luke's backside. The fresh rods whooshed through the air and cut into the apprentice's tender bottom. Luke gasped from the pain but knew this was only fair. He had earned it. The switches flogged the boy's rump again and again, being replaced by a new bundle after each six strokes.
By the twelfth stroke, Luke's eyes were beginning to fill with tears, and by the twentieth he was crying freely. Across his bottom some of the welts had finally piled too high and the skin broke. Drops of blood colored the fourth set of rods as they reached their fifth and sixth strokes, and blood was smeared across Luke's red and purple butt.
After the twenty-fourth stroke, the last bundle fell to the ground and Yoda opened his eyes. He hobbled over to his still-restrained student to inspect the damage.
The Master hovered up into the air behind the boy and put his three-fingered hand on the student's backside. "Ow!" Luke gasped between sobs, but Yoda did not remove his hand. Instead, he slowly moved it across the boy's raw buttocks. The whipping had been sufficient.
Yoda floated back to the ground, and the tree roots slowly moved back to where they had been before, releasing Luke from their grip. Slowly, Luke stood up. He was beginning to choke back the tears, but the pain was still intense. He groaned as he straightened up. He blinked away a few more tears and looked down at his teacher.
"That . . . that really hurt."
Yoda nodded his head gravely. "Learned have you?"
Luke's hands moved involuntarily to his backside. "Yes," he answered, gasping in air as he tried to calm down. "I know that I brought it on myself, and I'm glad you showed me the fruits of the Dark Side. I won't disappoint you again."
Yoda doubted that, but he decided not to say so. Luke sincerely meant it, at least.
"Go and rinse yourself and we will continue the training," Yoda commanded. Luke nodded and slowly, carefully, walked toward the pond. He squatted over the edge of the water – he didn't dare get in, given the creature that had tried to eat R2-D2 – and splashed some water across his bottom. Luke breathed a small sigh of relief when he thought of his little droid. Good thing he'd powered down Artoo for the day, he was sure the droid would have teased him about his whipping for weeks.
Luke carefully, softly rubbed at the skin to rinse off the smeared blood. None of the cuts had been very deep, so nothing was still bleeding. As much as the flogging had hurt, it hadn't done any permanent damage. He walked back to the log to get his clothes.
But when he got there, they were gone. He looked up to ask Yoda where they were when he saw the tree. It was back in the ground where it had been before he'd given in to his anger, before he'd blasted it out of the ground. And it looked healthier and more alive than before, too. Yoda stood serenely beneath it, looking up at his young student.
"Master, how did you do that?"
"Correct our mistakes we must," Yoda replied. "In time, you will learn." Then Luke saw his clothes – high up in the branches of a much taller tree. Well out of reach and on very weak limbs. He couldn't climb up there to get them, the branches would give out under his weight.
Luke gestured up at his dangling clothes. "Master –"
"Use the Force to dress yourself."
Luke knew which piece of clothing he wanted first! He closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on his briefs. Slowly, they unhooked themselves from the branch and began to float down towards him.