by LSF Publications
by Justin Maynard
It is singular, Caroline thought, how the mind occupies itself with trivial observations while it is churning in extreme agitation and fearful anticipation.
Caroline's eyes were fixed on the patterns formed by the upholstery buttons of her papa's leather armchair which occupied a prominent position by the fireplace of his study. Consciously she traced the lines and diamond shapes formed by the rows of buttons, even while the greater part of her mind was occupied by the tumultuous events of the evening before and of the brief but passionate interview she had just endured with Papa.
Caroline was sure that the events of the previous evening would be an imposition beyond the capacity of Papa's forbearance to overlook. He was a man of the most equable temper, but Caroline feared that on this occasion the seldom seen, but more frightening for its rarity, anger of which her father occasionally was capable would be exercised this very morning. That much was attested by the menacing presence of three sinister objects lying carelessly on Papa's leather-topped desk: an evil looking clothes brush, a long and thick strap, and most alarming of the three, a heavy rattan cane. Caroline was familiar with the clothes brush, as Papa had had it for as long as she could remember, though she had never made its acquaintance in any correctional way. The strap and cane were wholly new to her, and they sent a little thrill of apprehension coursing through her mind in company with the surprise their appearance provoked.
"Oh dear," Caroline sighed. "Dear Papa really cannot mean to chastise me physically." Though recalling all the circumstances pertaining to her situation gave an answer that firmly negated her hopes.
The quiet of the study was interrupted by the opening of the door and the entrance of Caroline's father and his sister, Edith. Sir Edward Summers was a tall and imposing man of forty-six years, and Edith was a year or two his junior. As a spinster with no other close connections, she lived with her brother and niece, and had been as much an elder sister and friend to Caroline as surrogate mother.
Oh dear, thought Caroline, Papa means to increase my humiliation and shame by punishing me before my aunt.
The girl did not immediately realize that Edith was to endure her own portion of humiliation and shame, and a great deal of corporal mortification.
"You do not imagine," began Sir Edward at once, that I am gratified by being told at my club by Lord Bedford that he has been subjected to a riotous assault in the public street by my sister and daughter! I almost could not credit my ears. Lord Bedford! He is, as you must know, the Home Secretary of this realm and one of His Majesty's chief ministers."
"One of His Majesty's greatest scoundrels," interjected Edith. "He was coming from a brothel where no doubt he had been ravishing young ladies!"
"Enough," boomed Sir Edward, "you dare mention that word in my house? I am assured that the degraded wretches there are of the legal age, which you may know has been sixteen years these last thirty years."
"Oh, sixteen is very adult, especially for a vicious old man of sixty," remarked Caroline, emboldened by her indignation.
"It is old enough to marry, and to hang," said Sir Edward. "Lord Bedford was extremely irate, and who can blame him when he is set upon by a band of violent suffragettes and pelted with eggs. He was good enough to have the police release you both because we are friends and fellow clubmen, but it was upon strict conditions. You should have been prosecuted and sent to Holloway, and would have been but for Lord Bedford's reluctance to see ladies of my house subjected to the indignities attendant upon being in the hands of the base creatures who run female prisons. His Lordship stipulated, most forcefully, that you both are to be punished for this outrage against himself, and against good order, and unless I could undertake to satisfy his requirements fully, he would see you in Holloway at the mercy of heaven knows what horrors."
"What did this brute stipulate?" asked Edith, now seeming to be a little alarmed by her brother's vehemence.
"Why, that you both be thrashed severely, by myself, and he has supplied some of the means to do so, as you can see on the desk before you."
Both ladies' eyes were drawn to the awful sight of the implements of chastisement lying on the desk.
"Papa, you can't mean to beat me," cried Caroline. "You never have done so, and I am too old now. Do have pity."
"It is pity that I degrade myself in whipping my own daughter. It is to save you from unspeakable penalties that face you if prosecuted at law. I am compelled to be exceedingly strict with you, though it is not my own desire. Now, let us get this distasteful duty over as quickly as possible."
"What sentence has the kind Lord Bedford passed upon us?" asked Edith, with a snort of contempt.
"Six of that cane on the bare bottom," replied Sir Edward.
"Oh you little boys with your six-of-the-best clichés. Nostalgia for school days happily spent thrashing fags," spat Edith.
"You mistake His Lordship's accounting. By six of course he meant six dozen. Do you think a few cuts will punish your outrageous behaviour?"
Poor Caroline almost swooned upon hearing what awaited her. She couldn't imagine such a beating or surviving it with her reason. She was also perplexed by the other implements on display, surely intended for cruel use.
Sir Edward soon enlightened her on this issue.
"As you have not previously been chastised in this way, Caroline, I am taking it upon myself to lessen your punishment. You will not be caned, but will be thrashed with the clothes brush and the strap. Lord Bedford was adamant that the allotted strokes be laid on with the utmost severity, so you will not be escaping lightly. If, however, you ever give cause for future punishment of this kind, I will cane your bold bottom while I can stand over you. Are you perfectly clear as to that?"
The hapless girl could only nod, while her aunt was speechless with dread and fear.
"Very well, let us begin. You will be punished first Caroline," said Sir Edward, lifting a straight chair into the centre of the room. "Please remove your drawers, but you may retain your dress."
Long anticipation of this moment had not prepared Caroline for it. Her blood was racing, and she felt what was at once a lump and a hollow inflating in her stomach and chest. Blushing crimson, Caroline fumbled beneath her skirts to unfasten and remove her drawers, placing them carelessly on the desk. Sir Edward took up the clothes brush and sat upon the chair, motioning Caroline to him.
"Please arrange yourself across my knee and lie still. You are not to move about or to put your hands behind you, however you feel the urgency to do so. You have asked for this punishment, and you are now to have it. It grieves me to thrash my own adult daughter in this shameful way, but there is no alternative that can even be considered."
Caroline could not take in the sense of Sir Edward's words, such was the agitation within her bosom and mind. She was breathless, though panting, and before she could fully realize what was happening, her father raised the skirt of her dress above her waist, so that her entire bottom and thighs were bared to his view and the ministrations of the brush. Caroline was a lovely girl, tall in person and pretty of face. Her figure was a model of what a young woman's form should be, and her bottom was shapely and beautifully rounded, and as white as alabaster.
Sir Edward was thrilled by the offering before him, while thinking that the unblemished orbs delighting his gaze would not be white for long. He struck the first blow with suddenness and force. It cracked upon the skin like a pistol shot. Caroline heard it before the sensation registered in her brain. Then a dreadful stinging pain stunned her. It was worse than she ever imagined, and she did not know how she could bear it.
Sir Edward spanked with a regular strike, with a second's interval between each. To Caroline this was a rain of fierce blows that soon was like a flame consuming her bottom, which was burning and throbbing, while still sensible of each stroke as a separate torment. She emitted little cries with each blow, and soon was gasping and sobbing. Another part of her mind was conscious of a feeling of submission. Being in the grip and control of a strong and powerful man, so wantonly exposed and being punished like a child, made her feel more, not less, of a woman, and revealed to her a swelling of lascivious feelings that had never before intruded so forcefully into her heart.
The thrashing went on remorselessly for one minute, two minutes, until Caroline's entire bottom was a fiery crimson shading to purple over the central mound of each cheek. The pain had become a whole, throbbing entity, clawing at the girl, searing her, and taking her to a place within herself previously unknown and unsuspected. Strangely, Caroline had felt the first twenty or thirty strokes the most. After that her bottom and mind had become somewhat numbed. It was not that the strokes stopped hurting, as hurt they certainly did; rather, they did not seem to matter to her. She was swept along on a wave of feeling that she did not understand, but which she began to enjoy and to find deeply satisfying in a way she never could have explained.
Finally, Sir Edward dropped the brush and helped Caroline to stand, a feat she barely could accomplish on her own.
"Now," he said, "we will try the strap, but you must change positions for that."
He led the sobbing girl to the leather club chair that had earlier engaged her attention. It had heavy padded arms, the left of which Caroline was soon bent across, with her arms folded on the opposite one supporting her shoulders and chest. With her dress once more raised above her waist, her bare and stricken bottom was jutting high, offering a superb target to whatever implement were to assault it. Edith, who all this time had been standing by the wall transfixed by the spectacle before her, had a direct view of Caroline's bottom, and wondered at the resilience of the girl in enduring so severe a thrashing.
How will she manage with the strap? she wondered. Caroline was at that moment wondering the same thing.
Neither lady had long to ponder the question. Sir Edward applied the first lash of the strap with considerable force across the centre of Caroline's already stricken bottom. She shrieked and jerked, but did not rise from her position. While the stinging smack of the leather certainly hurt Caroline, she thought it was not as painful as the horrid brush. The pain, however, built as lash succeeded lash until the girl was conscious only of the throbbing, stinging and aching bottom that seemed to have become the whole of her. She moaned and squirmed, but endured. Edith, her gaze fixed upon the spectacle before her, was becoming ever more excited and, dare she own it, aroused. The girl really was lovely, with her round and generous bottom flaring below a waspish waist, while flaming a deeper and deeper red beneath the ministrations of the cruel strap.
I do believe the minx is loving this thrashing, the lady thought to herself. And so am I. Her hand crept to her groin, and she began quietly to rub her quim through the fabric of her skirt.
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