That river in Egypt

Damocles didn't try to protest or resist. He didn't want more slaps or squeezes, but she was going to do whatever she wanted and there was nothing he could do but lie there and accept it. He was powerless and it had sunk itself into his brain.
"Good boy, that's what I thought"
Rennala picked up the table tennis bat that she had with her. Even though it had a rubbery outer layer, the the wood was much harder than her hand was and she could swing it with a lot more force. She held it over his balls, lining up the shot. She pulled back, and then WHACK-ed him hard. The impact made him jump and cry out, but there was no struggle. It was an involuntary reaction to the pain, he wasn't fighting her and she was very glad to see that. She struck his balls again and was met with the same reaction. Although it hurt so bad, he couldn't fight her, not even an attempt at resisting. This pleased Rennala very much, she had whacked the fight out of him into accepting his treatment. She gave him another whack just in case. And then another. And another. And another. Each one made him react in pain, but nothing more. She was happy with how he was behaving, not a single hint of fighting back or trying to prevent her will.