Wednesday, 24 June 2009

PN Dedeaux Again

The birch is a somewhat old fashioned method of corporal punishment so this drawing gives the right feel, so to speak. Of course her frilly knickers will have to come down too before she goes over the birching horse.

But now for another period piece from P.N. Dedeaux slightly adapted by me. Ira's introduction to her tutor and his cane:

‘What do you propose to use on her, in particular?’asked Lord Usher.

‘Cane, birch and, when necessary, the leather, replied my tutor. I’ve seen plenty of birch about here already. She shall put them up herself. Excellent training, thinking about it first.’

‘Well, don’t cut her quite in two’, laughed Lady
Julia, looking down into my face. ‘She’s a green girl,
even if she has been to the stables once or twice.’

‘Oh I don’t doubt but that she can go a few. A
sound swishing never killed anyone. In any case,
she’ll just have to get used to it, that’s all.’

‘Faith’, said Lord Usher with ever-brightening
eye, ‘I admit I shouldn’t care to be in the bill to you
with Ira, for all the tea in China. Do you mean
to make it Fridays, as it was for us?’

‘Us too’, said Lady Julia.

‘As it was, so it shall be’, confirmed Mr. Pelham
on a nod. ‘Fridays after dinner.’

‘The deuce but these rods look licky. What are they exactly?’

‘Willows and, for serious work, a malacca.’

‘Let me see them, old chap.’ The tutor surrendered the bundle of fasces,from which Lord Usher selected one. Its slippery supple quality as he flicked the air with it made my skin go goosey all over. The thing was pregnant with pain.

‘Understand they’re introducing these all over.
Quite the thing. In the schools, I mean.’

[This was the time when the cane was replacing the birch as the preferred means of corporal punishment in British schools.]

‘Yes’, agreed Mr. Pelham, re-accepting the wand
and doubling its great length almost in two, ‘Rugby
has quite gone over now, I hear.’

‘Some say they are even more cruel.’

‘Than the birch? I have heard the complaint.
Trouble is, a birching takes too long. If you hit hard,
and I like to, you can slow a swishing to as few as
three or four a minute, with maximum pain. As you
may imagine, this impedes class work. For the
classroom these canes are admirable. They cut
sharp with but a few.’

‘But don’t they bruise terribly?’ asked Julia, frowning.

‘Tolerably. But that adds to the desire to avoid
repetition. A swishing on a girl’s bum already tender from
the stick can be very salutory indeed. In my last job I
started off by giving my two charges six of the best
before breakfast each morning for the whole of
their first week. You should have seen the result.
Supple as gloves in no time. No, Ma’am, you must
never let up when breaking a young’un into harness.’

‘And I doubt if you do, Mr. Pelham’, she said
with another chesty shiver.

He stared at her steadily an instant. ‘No. I don’t.
What presumes to be weaker must be
hardened all the more in the intenser fire. So come,
let’s see what we have to deal with here. Step
forward, Miss.’

The cane tapped a place on the carpet and I took
up my stance there, dry-throated.

‘Ever tried the cane?’

‘No, sir.’

This, it will be observed, was my first vocal
declamation to date in the scene.

‘Nor does she, Plum’, guffawed Lord Usher,
‘appear over-anxious to make the acquaintance.’

‘It is no sparer of persons. Turn round and let’s
look at you.’

My skirt swung over my filling thighs as I

‘Lean over with your hands on your knees. Hm.
Let’s say she may wear skirts after lessons at noon
are over, but they will have to be briefer than this.
I require a complete consciousness of her person at
all times. Now, girl, from me you’ll always get it on
the bum.’

With a little contemptuous twitch, or flicker, of
his stick the tutor flipped up my skirt behind. My
pretty slip followed. Cream-coloured silk bloomers,
so tight they creased where I creased and dimpled
where I dimpled, too, were all that obscured my
robustly-parted buttocks for the three pairs of eyes
watching, and I flushed with unrequited shame. To
my added horror, however, the man approached
and began to palpate and prod with stubby fingers,
separating the cheeks and weighing them in his
cupped palms and generally acting as some butcher
might to his meat.
‘This is all in her interest’, I heard Lord Usher
reassuring his wife. ‘Quite a science in knowing
where the nerves lie, and applying accordingly.’

‘Now touch your toes’, said that voice I was
already growing to fear intensely. ‘And now’, he
said, when I had done so, ‘stand up and this time,
girl, when I say touch your toes bend over as if your
life depended on it. Mind now, I want your head on
your knees. If you can’t put your palms on the floor
with straight legs in two weeks I’ll have you doing
special exercises for two hours a day. Over!’

‘That’s better’, said Lord Usher, when I had
lunged like a hinge. ‘That’s what I call a tight bum.’

‘Pulls up the puppy-fat. Head right down now,
Miss. Pull over with your arms.’ The cane tapped
one flesh side. ‘Tighter still. Try now.’

‘I’m trying, sir’, I puffed.

‘Well, try harder.’

I strained again. This time as he approached I
was aware that the thin silk perfectly outlined the
fatty purse pushed back by the posture, between my
legs. There was nothing I could do, however; I could
not diminish its appearance, and indeed I knew all
too well that its divided nature was perfectly
apparent. I resolved not to move under his
ministrations, whatever they might be, and did not
do so while he again felt me all over – until he
pinched the cloven fruit testingly in his fingers, and
ran a finger to my tight anal orifice. I gasped and half rose,
crimson, but he ordered me over again.

‘This is a good solid girl-bum’, he pronounced. ‘I
could wish for more separation for the stick, which
is an impact instrument, but there is no doubt she can
go a few. No danger here of touching bone, the
coccyx is even well covered. I suspect it will be most
tender low down, in the gluteal fold, and I shall
work there if need be.’

‘You are very exact’, said Lady Julia.

‘Now, Miss, stand up. Take off your drawers and
let’s see your skin.’


I recoiled with a startled gasp, frightened by my
own refusal as much as anything. There was a long

Finally, flexing his wand, the tutor said:
‘Is no the only word you know, child? I am afraid
it is one to eradicate from your lexicon so far as I am
concerned, as rapidly as possible.’

‘And which will cost her?’ insinuated Lord
Usher, avidly enough, with a loose smile.

‘Six of the best last thing tonight’, said the tutor,
still staring at me.

‘A hard start, forsooth. But it is as well to get off
on the right foot, early.’

‘I seldom give less than six. Even with the malacca.’

Lady Julia smiled. ‘Poor old Ira. I shall come
and say good-night to you when it’s over.’

‘Refusal to obey an order is a serious offence’,
continued the tutor. ‘It is a Commission of a grave
nature constituting Insubordination.’

‘I will repair it, sir’, I said, reaching under my
skirt. But he merely shook his head.

‘Too late. You will put it down in the Demerit
Book I shall set out in the hall tomorrow. It will be
left open there for all to see, and the account settled
each Friday.’

Lord Usher gave a nervous laugh.

‘Severe as ever, eh, Plum. Settled by the twigs, I

‘Insubordination is six with the birch, yes.’

I had a strong desire to leave and, dropping a
profound curtsey, asked if my presence were further
required and, if it were not, that I might be excused.
‘Mind now, Ira. Six strokes of the cane across your naked buttocks.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You may go.’

The rest of that day was devoted to my preparations.

Somehow, I know not how, Mrs. Wilson soon got
wind of my impending punishment, and that
afternoon she delightedly dilated on the event:
‘Springy as an eel, yet hard as stone at the tip.
He’s already sent down for some size, he has, to
stiffen ’em up a bit, you see. Oh I wouldn’t want to
be in your shoes tonight for a hundred sixpences,
Miss Highhat. I’ve seen boys of eighteen blubber
after a meeting with canes like that. They sting
like fury. At first it’s like a hot oil bum, then like a
white-hot sword drawn across your bum, and then
the true fire starts to mount. A good cut is at its
worst fifteen seconds later – when ’e comes at ye
again. And again. Arter three you’ll be wishing
that big impudent bottom of your’n were half its
size. Oh I’d give anything to see it, I would. It’s the
best thing ever for ye, Ira.’

I lay on the bed that night, waiting for my dread visitation. I had left my dinner and fled upstairs, where I had stripped at once and bedded. I put on my flimsy nightdress but left my silk stockings and boots, unsure of how I would be required to present myself for punishment.

As I lay on my side with the light still on I stared into the fire which Lilly always lit for me,and I tried to remember what it had been like in the stables. A hot oil bum, that was all. My fingers went under my nightgown and ran over the warm puddings of my hinder halves, soon to be thrashed into by a pitiless round cane. Then my fingers strayed to my front, where I was surprised to find my clitoris swollen and very sensitive.

The urge to masturbate - a newly discovered but strictly forbidden nocturnal pleasure in which I frequently indulged - was very strong, but then there were sounds downstairs, a slammed door, and I heard that purposeful tread which was soon to haunt my nightmares.

Mr. Pelham had steel tips to the heels of his boots and he walked as he did everything, as if he meant it. My stomach turned. For a second I again doubted that I could hold my water and thoughts of masturbation fled - at least for now.

He strode in briskly, holding a soullessly long, horribly whippy, thin, yellow cane, shut the door behind him and said,

‘Turn out.’

I jumped off the bed but for a moment he did not
deign to look at me, moving about the room touching
pictures and objects with the glittering tip of his

‘Next time you are ordered punishment at bedtime you wait outside
the door, in the passage, understand?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘But at least you are dressed correctly for it. Turning his pallid gaze upon me and pointing the cane at my nightdress he said, ‘Lift it right up.’

This time I could not obey quickly enough. My
nightie was up and I was back on the bed in a flash. But the man’s
eyes did not drop, nor so much as stir to my revealing nudity.
My bush was by now thick and firm up my belly and
in a wide bar across it. My bottom hole was pouting and puckered. But if I blushed he did not. He read my mind at once.
‘You’ll stop this silly flushing, child. You aren’t
a girl to me. You’re a pair of buttocks that need to be punished.
All I’m interested in is making certain you regret
your action …’

‘I do already, sir’, I assured him.

‘Don’t interrupt me, Ira. And I won’t repeat again in a
hurry. Now stick out your bottom, feet well apart, and put
your hands behind your head. Lean forward to
widen yourself completely and let your cheeks hang
quite limp. I want them relaxed for this first
introduction. I’m going to take you full across the fat
this time.’
I felt the cold of the cane in its
measuring tap and he went on gently, ‘A little
further still. Now this is the first time I’ve
whipped you, Ira, and I want you to tell
yourself that every time I do so it’ll hurt more than
you think. I’ll never let you off lightly, ever. You’re
going to get the rod again, and again, and again,
until you’re properly trained and in the right frame
of mind. Six strokes.’

At once the air soughed behind me, a sound
completed by a fleshy smack. A hot oil burn was
what I told myself as that cane bit round my
hanging cheeks. No more nor a hot oil bum,
PLEASE! But Mrs. Wilson was right once more. The
pain drove up like liquid fire. This sting was
incomparably superior, more subtle, than the
bruising strap. I gasped and perked.

The same meaty whack told me he had cut again
– two! This time I hissed, hopping in place. The
spot struck by the tip was unbelievably painful.
There was no withstanding it. I writhed.

The third long, almost lethargic motion sent the
stick lashing round my bum. There was a mirror
opposed to me on the other wall and who was this I
saw within it? A girl with elbows back, hands at
nape, her face scarlet and writhen together, eyes
squeezed up, the torso forward and her ripeness of
belly receding into a darkness below. Come on, I
wanted to beg him now in my extremity, get it over
with, give me the next. But the waiting became too
much and I grabbed back.

‘Get into position.’

‘But it hu-uuuurts … so terribly.’

‘Three to come. If you reach behind again, I shall
hit your hands.’
I endured four, and five, though my boots might
have been treading some blistering treadmill.
Again the flame burnt too deep and I grasped my
hotly-wealed posteriors as if a horde of hornets
had just been let loose there. Came a rapping crack
and I squealed as he skinned my knuckles, dancing
with pain. one fist to my mouth. Somehow I
resumed my place and swallowed the last on a cry.
After which I sat my raging bottom on the bed, my
hands under it, rocking and weeping with pain. The
cane was incomparably stricter than I had
conceived it to be.

‘Ah, sir … you didn’t need … to be as severe.’

He put on his jacket which for the first time I
saw he had doffed for the task.
‘It would be as well for you to get my regulations
concerning correction by heart, Ira. Any
flinching off means taking the cut over. Moving out
of position, two extra. Failure to wait for
permission to rise after the last cut, three extra. You
were not to know about permission but you will have
to do much better under the rod than this, if you are
to enter Miss Ponsonby’s in a year. She requires total
stoicism. You moved twice, thus meriting four.’

‘Please, sir, please … you can’t mean … uuu, you
hit so hard!’
‘However, as this was your first essay at my
hands, I shall be unusually lenient. You will be
permitted to take them start of work tomorrow.’

‘Sir!’ I protested, squirming. ‘I am but a girl.’

He nodded at the door. ‘A girl who is going to get
four cuts across the bum at nine sharp tomorrow.
It is now you are learning your lesson, when the
sting is at its liveliest, and you can promise that
pronounced bottom of yours that I gave you now
what will be child’s play to what you’ll have in
the bill, Friday night, should you disobey again.
Moreover, I shall profit by the fact of your sex to
which allusion I am grateful. I shall not hesitate to
set you on a stool with your knickers round your
ankles, and your b.t.m. on display for all to see –
servants and visitors alike – any time it’s had to be
treated in earnest. You’ve a strong pair and I’m not
likely to let up on ’em an instant. Goodnight.’

When he had gone I recovered somewhat and
moving stiff-legged to a mirror inspected the marks
made by that mercilessly licky stick. The weals
were dark and hard, plump and lumpy and full of
blood on the right. My wondering fingers traced one
place where three seemed to have fallen together.
How had the poor skin, so contused, not broken?
Heavens, you didn’t half catch it, I thought,
staring at those rounds. I unlaced my boots and went to bed, laying on my belly with those swollen fruits in my hands. Now that the worst was over I felt a curious glow again all over, a sense of fulfilment in having been so well-whipped, and come through. My hungry fingers strayed to the front of my nightdress again.

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