Anonymous - Gynecocracy

"My interference indeed! How dare you? You would have done the same yourself, and as to Elise's selling him or his selling himself, he is Mademoiselle's slave."

Beatrice during this altercation held my hands very tightly by the wrists over my head. I wondered what my fate would be.

"Look here," cried Agnes as I contemplated the stylish forms before which I was so shamefully exposed, "if Mademoiselle catches us squabbling you know we shall be flogged all round; do shut up. You have got him now, Bee, at any rate, so what is the good of wrangling?"

"Oh! Maud is always setting everybody to rights."

"I don't appropriate other people's possessions anyhow."

"Because you can't get them."

"I have had more than you."

"And yet you say you don't appropriate other people's possessions."

"No more I do. I bought them."

"Bought them. Prostitute!" hissed Beatrice.

"Beatrice, shut up! Goodness, she must have heard!"

Mademoiselle, at that instant, opened the door.

"Which of you young ladies used a word with which I will not sully my lips?"

They all hung their heads.

"Maud, was it you?"

"Beatrice and I were discussing what Julia had been reading to us. She declared that the lady was-was…"

It was very generous of Maud.

Agnes looked greatly relieved.

Beatrice threw a glance of grateful recognition at her sister for her presence of mind and generosity after which I certainly drew my breath more freely. Had Mademoiselle known the truth Beatrice would have been half annihilated especially after what had actually occurred between Maud and myself which, no doubt, Mademoiselle would have surmised Beatrice was maliciously throwing in Maud's teeth. Besides which Mademoiselle believed, or, as I really think, pretended to believe, that what had happened between Maud and myself was known only to Maud, myself, herself, and Elise.

What she might feel bound to do if brought into contact with the fact that it was common knowledge, I dread to think. What an escape for Bee and for all of us!

"So, Beatrice, as usual, it is you who are in fault; it was you who used that word! Where are your modesty, your maidenly feelings? How could a young lady use such a word?"

Beatrice looked at Mademoiselle but said nothing. There seemed, however, to be something in her mouth.

"Well?" asked Mademoiselle.

"I really can't see any harm in the word: pro, 'before,' and statue, 'I place.' If I had said, proseda, or procax, or togata, or meretrix, or cunnus, or pellex, or lupa, or scrotum-"

"Very well, Beatrice. Stop your obscene storm of words! Your vocabulary-sacre blue! — you have a fine one. It does credit to your classical attainments. However, I have something else to attend to now. You shall be punished, after dinner, in a way which will test your candour. If what you have said to me is true you will not feel the penalty: but I doubt it very much. Prostitute indeed-a pretty word! As it is of so little significance please to write it in Roman capitals on a large card and hang it round your neck when you come down to dinner!"

"Oh, Mademoiselle!"

Mademoiselle had a flat steel ring or disc in her hand, the inside edges of which were serrated or indented like a saw. By means of a watch spring attached to it, it was fixed on to Mons. Priapus, and it was evident to me that if he enlarged himself in the least, the teeth would be into him and the more he grew the further they would penetrate.

"There," said Mademoiselle, having daintily fixed the instrument, "I think this will cure you; but in the drawing room I must direct Elise to replace that bandage you wore when Lord Alfred Ridlington dined with us. And now, Miss Julia, of course you know you must be birched. Beatrice, flog your cousin's bottom for her?"

Beatrice brightened up at the notion of whipping me.

Mons. Priapus grew. I got fearfully pricked.

"Oh, Beatrice, let me go!" I shouted. "Oh, Mademoiselle, it is eating into me! Take it off," I cried desperately struggling, "take it off!"

Beatrice held me tight.

Mademoiselle was pleased to see her horribly ingenious little instrument work so effectually.

"Oh! Do not have me whipped with it on! Oh, Mademoiselle, please!"

"You may appeal to Beatrice."

"Certainly you shall keep it on; it is a capital thing for you. Come, turn over. Who shall hold him, Mademoiselle? and how many is he to have?" responded that damsel.

"You must put the straps across his shoulders, Beatrice. And Maud and Agnes-one at each side-can hold up his skirts. I should order him five dozen, but as he has that little bulldog on in front, we will say three. He'll bite, I expect."

I was strapped down, my petticoats held up, my buttocks exposed.

Beatrice turned back her sleeve displaying and freeing her supple wrist.

He did bite already, of course.

She walked over to me with determination and glee. I knew I should catch it and I did.

To begin with her strokes were delivered very slowly and with great force; and then, instead of spreading them about she continued to administer them as much as possible in the same spot aiming each stroke carefully.

I panted and called out-ended, in fact, by bursting into a paroxysm of sobbing. Of course my contortions and cries were no more heeded by Beatrice and Mademoiselle than if Beatrice had been lashing a feather bolster; neither did Maud nor Agnes seem to pity me.

I had whipped Beatrice, it was her turn now. My goodness! If she whipped me like this when I was married to her!

"There, Miss Julia," said Beatrice, with satisfaction as she concluded and drew the birch through her left hand quite affectionately and gratefully.

The bulldog did bite again, as I writhed on the couch, and it entirely deprived me of the power or wish to express the sensations provoked by my nakedness and castigation before the girls.

"Well, Julia," asked Beatrice afterwards when she met me in the gallery, "did I warm your bottom for you? Does it still smart?"

"Oh, Beatrice!" and I grew red as I looked at her.

"Thank me for the punishment. You deserved it."

"Yes. Thank you for flogging me."

"And you deserve another for daring to flog me?"

"Oh, no! I was obliged to."

"I have nothing to do with that. Do you deserve another for daring to whip me, or do you not?" — stamping her foot.

I grew pale. She had given me a birching I should not forget for a week or ten days and was intending to give me another. I looked at her splendid form.

"Yah!"

"What on earth possesses you, Julia?"

"That damned thing!"

Beatrice shouted with laughter.

"Oh," I soberly remarked, "it is all very well to laugh! It hurts confoundedly, I can tell you."

"So it ought! Will you please answer my question, Julia?"

"Yes, Beatrice, I do; but don't give it me yet."

"Good boy! As a reward you shall have it in a very pleasant way. Your head between my legs, your face upwards, while I hold your legs across my shoulders. You know-you remember-don't you?"

"Yes, under your petticoats?" asked I, slyly, for which I was given a slap.

"Oh! Oh! I can say no more," I was obliged to yell out; for the next moment this cursed contrivance bit me again. "I may have no feelings at all," cried I, clasping my hands to the middle of my lap. "I would sooner wear that diabolical bandage. Who is to whip me, Bee?"

"Oh, Agnes shall do that!" said Beatrice, scarcely concealing her merriment.

"Be it so. I hope you'll take this ring off."

Agnes' whippings were not very dreadful.

"We shall see," replied Bee, going away.

The ring I have since discovered is an American invention intended for the prevention of involuntary excitement during sleep. The teeth instantly wake the sleeper and-well, they at least deprive the act of its involuntary character.