Anonymous - Frank and I

The governess seated herself on a chair, and addressed the delinquent, in a stern voice: “Now, Dora, you know that your mother has requested me to whip you soundly. And I warn you that if you are not perfectly submissive, I will double your punishment. Take off your frocks, stays, and drawers; fold them up tidily, and put them on the sofa.”

The tears welled up in the girl’s eyes, and began to trickle down her cheeks; and she hesitated a moment; then she took off her smart little satin corset Then, putting her hands under her petticoats, she slowly unfastened her drawers, let them slip down her legs to the floor, and stepped clear of the dainty, lace-trimmed garment. Then, with trembling fingers, she folded up the articles, placed them on the sofa, and stood, with downcast, tearful eyes, waiting for further orders.

“Now, get the rod; hand It to me, with a curtsey; say that you have misbehaved; and ask me if I will be pleased to give you a good whipping.”

Dora’s pale face flushed, when she heard the humiliating order, and the tears ran quicker down her cheeks; but she did not move.

“Obey me at once. Every time I have to repeat an order, I will add to your punishment,” said the governess, stamping her foot.

The girl was cowed. She got the rod, and handed it to the governess, with a curtsey, saying in a low trembling voice: “I have been naughty. Please give me a good whipping.”

“I will,” said the governess. “Lie down at full length upon the chairs, and bare your bottom to receive the punishment.”

Dora gave a choking sob, but at once walked to the chairs, and placed herself in position; then she pulled up all her drapery, exposing her lovely little naked figure from the waist downwards. It was six months since I had last seen the girl turned up. Her delicious bottom was as dazzlingly white as ever; but it had become more developed; it was broader and deeper, and the cheeks were plumper; her thighs had increased in size, and so had the calves of her well-made legs. Her small feet were cased in patent leather shoes, and she was wearing long black silk stockings, which showed off the whiteness of her skin to perfection. Altogether, the half-naked girl was a charming spectacle.

My cock sprung up, my eyes grew moist, and my mouth watered, as I gazed at the pretty bottom; and I heartily wished that I had been going to birch it.

Miss Martin now rose from her seat, and rod in hand, walked over to the culprit, and looked down at the “field of operations” for a moment.

Then she said: “Pull your petticoats up higher, and tuck them under your, body.”

The girl drew up all her garments as high as she could, and pushed them underneath her belly; then, covering her face with both hands, she awaited the stroke. But her suspense was prolonged.

The governess laid down the rod, and took out of her pocket some straps, with which she coolly began to fasten Dora’s wrists and ankles to the bars of the chairs; and as the girl had never before been tied up for a whipping, she became dreadfully frightened, and began to whimper.

When she was securely fastened, Miss Martin gave her a long lecture on her bad behaviour; winding up by saying: “I am going first of all to spank you; then I will birch you.”

Dora shuddered, uttering a low groan, and her smooth bottom became quite “goose-skinned” with fear.

The governess sat down upon a chair; so that she was just at the right level to administer the punishment, without having to stoop.

She began the spanking: laying the slaps only on the right cheek of the girl’s bottom, taking care not to touch the other cheek. The smacks sounded loudly as they fell in slow succession on the plump, firm flesh; and at each smack the marks of the governess’s fingers were printed in red on the delicate, white skin. Dora bore two or three slaps pretty quietly, then she burst into a loud fit of crying, and winced at each smack.

When the governess had applied a dozen smart slaps, she stopped spanking, and leisurely inspected the sufferer’s bottom which looked very funny, the bright scarlet colour of the spanked cheek, contrasting strongly with the snow-like whiteness of the untouched cheek. Then she set to work on the white left cheek, giving it also a dozen sharp smacks, which made it match the other in colour. Dora was crying, and wriggling her bottom the whole time, but she did not scream.

“Now, miss; yon shall have twelve cuts with the birch,” said the governess, taking up the rod and making it whistle in the air over Dora’s red and smarting bottom. She turned her head round, and fixed her eyes, with an agonized look, on the threatening twigs, while the tears streamed down her cheeks. “Oh-h! Miss Martin,” she cried out in piteous tones: “Please don’t birch me! — Oh! please-don’t-whip me-any more. Oh! I-have-had enough. My bottom-is-burning. Oh! Oh! Oh!”

Swish! Swish! Swish! The birching was begun; each cut extracting a loud, shrill squeal from Dora, and making her twist about in anguish, while small purple weals rose in all directions on the red skin. Miss Martin birched away calmly: and I saw that she was well skilled in the use of the rod. She did not swing the birch high in the air, she merely raised her arm from the elbow, and laid on the cuts with a peculiar sort of “flicking” stroke from the wrist. She never struck twice in the same place; the cuts were all applied with the same degree of force, and she never allowed the ends of the twigs to curl over on to the side of the culprit’s bottom. The flogging was fairly administered from beginning to end.

Dora, throughout the birching, squealed and writhed; cried and plunged; and begged abjectly for mercy. But she was not let off a single cut. The governess threw down the rod, and unfastened the girl’s wrists and ankles; saying: “Do not attempt to pull down your petticoats, or to get up until I give you permission.”

She then went back to her chair and seated herself; leaving Dora lying on the chairs, crying and twisting her hips in pain; and with her wealed, scarlet bottom exposed. When her crying had died away to sobs, Miss Martin said: “Get up; come to me, and thank me for your punishment.”

Dora got on her feet; her cheeks were nearly as red as her bottom; the tears were running from her eyes, her lips were quivering, and her face was full of pain. She walked stiffly up to the governess, and sobbed out, in choking accents:

“Thank-you-for-the-whipping-yon-have-given

“Now, pick up the rod; kiss it, and put it away in the cabinet. Then dress, and go to your room.”

The girl picked up the rod, kissed it meekly, and returned it to its place in the cabinet. Then she drew on her drawers, put on her corset and dress, and slunk, still sobbing, out of the room.

I stepped from behind the curtains, and gave the governess an appreciative kiss, as I was much pleased with the way she had administered the chastisement. She smiled, saying: “Now you have seen how a governess can punish a naughty girl, morally as well as physically. Dora may soon forget the whipping, but she will remember the degradation she has undergone. In having been obliged to ask me to give her a whipping; then, having had to prepare herself for the punishment; then having been compelled to thank me for whipping her; and finally having been forced to kiss the rod. She is a saucy girl, but she is now thoroughly humbled; and I am certain that she will not need another whipping for a very long time.”

“You did the whole thing splendidly,” I said. “The way you spanked one side of her bottom, and then the other, amused me very much; and you applied the rod in a most skilful way. I had no idea that a whipping could be inflicted in such an artistic style.”

She laughed, and appeared to be highly delighted at my compliments, saying: “There is an art both in spanking and birching, as there is in everything else. I have had plenty of practice, and I flatter myself that I can whip a bottom with a fair amount of skill.”