Cordelia Lavington 66

By Governess
liviaarbuthnot1@gmail.com

Copyright 2024 by Governess, all rights reserved

[2,803 words]´

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Chapter 66



Cordelia sat quietly in her study. Again, she looked at the framed quotation above her desk.

A boy must swallow the bitter pill of submission, whose healing properties are released only when he is truly broken and contrite in spirit.

And how true that was! And how a boy struggled against swallowing that bitter pill! And just as caring for the sick was an act of mercy, so was chastising a child. She had left William standing against the wall awaiting a further dose of this essential and healing medication. Rising she went to fetch the cane from its hook in the hall. She drew the smooth, hard, yet immensely flexible length of rattan appreciatively through her hand; and swished it through the air, listening to its threatening whoosh and knowing that William, too, would have heard it as he stood face to the wall in the living room. She swished it again.

William held his breath, shivering at the prospect of the further punishment. Then, he sensed his mother entering the room.

“Turn around, William.”

Slowly, reluctantly, he did so. He bit his lip, looking down, desperate to be anywhere other than where he was, facing the torture of further punishment.

“William, you seem to consider it your right to choose whether to obey my word or not. You need to learn that when I give you a rule or instruction, all that is required of you is to obey. If I tell you not to lie on the bed in your clothes, then you do not lie on the bed in your clothes. And the same with any other instruction. You obey it and do so immediately and without argument. If not, you will be punished.”

She led him to the chaise longue lifting him sobbing over the end and secured him with the restraining strap . She felt a slight constriction in her throat as she looked at his small round bottom already marked by his previous discipline. She swished the rattan through the air. And then she caned him. Three dozen strokes. She took her time, both for the pleasure in disciplining him and to impress upon him the sovereignty of her will.

Before she had finished, the door opened, and Samuel and Elizabeth came noisily into the room. At the sight of William over the end of the chaise longue, they stood watching, saying nothing. When the final six strokes had been laid across their brother’s red and wealed bottom, their mother turned, and held the cane out to Samuel.

“Hang this back on its hook, please Samuel.”

As he took it, he gave a shiver knowing that soon it might be swished across his own bottom. As he turned, William came out of the room, sobbing quietly, his face aflame, and clutching at himself. Samuel watched, as he tumbled up the stairs to his bedroom.

Back in the drawing room, his mother was straightening the chaise longue, and Elizabeth was asking what William had done to be punished with the cane.

“It is really none of your business, Elizabeth Lavington,; but he disobeyed a clear instruction when we arrived home from town. Before that he had been rude and disobedient and even misbehaved in the shop where we had gone to buy a new tawse for the school”.

She smiled.

“So, I asked the lady in the shop to provide the necessary discipline.”

Elizabeth’s eyes were round and her face tense with curiosity.

“And did she?”

“Yes, Elizabeth. She did. First, she spanked him with a leather paddle, and then she strapped his spanked bottom with a heavy tawse.”

“W . . . what is a paddle, Mother?”

“Well, if you look on the table over there you will see the very paddle that Mrs Crampton used Why don’t you fetch it and bring it to me.”

Elizabeth, flushing, picked it up and handed it to her mother who smacked it across her palm.”

She smiled.

“As you are so curious, Elizabeth, perhaps you would like to feel how painful a paddle like this can be?”

“No, please, Mother.”

“Well, in view of your pertness and curiosity about a matter that is really no concern of yours, I think otherwise. Hold out your hands. One over the other as you’ve been taught.”

“Reluctantly, she stretched out her hands, biting her lip. She watched as the paddle was raised and then brought speeding down to impact heavily across her waiting palm. She gave a gasp and snatched her hand away, shaking the small trembling extremity, before hugging it tightly under her armpit.”

“Was that painful, Elizabeth?”

“Ye . . . yes, Mother.”

“And now the other hand.”

“No, no. Please, Mother.”

“How dare you argue. Hold out your hand. ”

Elizabeth stood defiantly, shaking her head.

“Samuel, fetch the cane please. And you Elizabeth over to the chaise longue.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed, and after a small hesitation did as she had been told.

“Lift your dress and lower your knickers.”

She took the cane from Samuel and swished it through the air with a loud whoosh.

“And over the end, please, Ellizabeth.”

Cordelia studied the fulness of the girl’s round bottom, and after swishing the cane several more times through the air,, brought it speeding down, with a devastating twist of the wrist, towards its target. Elixabeth’s whole body shuddered as the cane cut into the soft flesh; and her mother experienced a corresponding shiver of satisfaction as a stripe was raised on the taut yet resilient surface. Cordelia despised the “traditional” six of the best. Six strokes were insufficient to provide that essential horror of a punishment stretching out and passing beyond the limits of endurance. But on this occasion, she considered a dozen strokes more than sufficient All that Elizabeth had done was to express a natural curiosity although with an impertinence that was certainly reprehensible.

At that moment the doorbell rang. Cordelia placed the cane on the seat of the chaise longue and went to answer it.

“Diana, come it. But where is James?”

“I’m afraid he has been called to an urgent meeting with the trustees and sends his apologies.”

She raised her eyebrows at the sight of Elizabeth.

“I’m sorry, Cordelia. I seem to have disturbed you in the middle of your disciplining Elizabeth.”

“Not at all, Diana. I have just finished. Elizabeth, you will go to your room, and you’ll remain there until called. And you, too, Samuel. And, on the way, please hang the cane back on its hook. I have an important matter to discuss privately with Mrs Fairclough.”

“And what had Elizabeth done to deserve the cane, Cordelia?”

“A rather impertinent curiosity in questioning me about punishing William. When she returned from morning school she found him, as you found Elizabeth, across the end of the chaise longue.”

“So, what had he done?”

And she relayed to her the events of the morning.

“And after the efforts of Mrs Crampton, he still needed a further paddling and a trip over the end of your chaise longue?”

“Yes, Diana. It was absolutely necessary. The boy had got into a pattern of disobedience, an almost wilful refusal to listen to instructions and obey them. And as we both know, the only place where that can be remedied is a bare bottom. And there the lesson will be taught.. However long it takes.”

Diana nodded.

“Well said, Cordelia. If there is one thing a mother needs, it’s staying power. Children have an inner defiance, an understandable need to affirm themselves against others, but when that comes into conflict with our will, it has to be resisted. A word in season may sometimes be enough but, in my experience, rarely is. Verbal correction almost always needs to be reinforced with a spanking at the very least. And a boy like Willliam needs to know that such a lesson will be repeated, again and again, until he surrenders. And that lesson needs to be increased in severity and in duration with each repetition.”

“We share such a similar outlook., Diana. It’s something I truly value.”

Diana smiled.

“But enough of the children. Tell me more about the outcome of your visit as it concerns the flogging you are to give those two boys tomorrow. I have to say that James is still very resistant to its being given with any implement other than a stout birch rod. He already has two bound up.”

Cordelia frowned.

“I thought we’d agreed that only after my visit to Crampton’s would he take a view of what implement should be used.”

She gave a sigh.

“Frankly, Diana, I just don’t understand his obsession with the birch over anything else. As I said before, I have seen an extra heavy weight tawse used to flog a young teenage boy, and believe me, it’s utterly devastating.”

Diana gave a little grimace.

“Let me explain, Cordelia.”

“Please do, Diana.”

“As I think you know, James was expelled from his prep school having been falsely accused of stealing from another boy. He must have felt utterly betrayed when his parents believed the school’s account rather than his own. Not only did he lose all his schoolfriends, but he was banished from the house and sent to live with a governess in a cottage on the family estate. Miss Ravenscourt had been appointed with the intention of licking him into shape and imposing strict and uncompromising discipline. I have seen the advert to which Miss Ravenscourt responded. I can remember it almost word for word.

Governess required for eight-year-old boy. High academic qualifications required with the ability to coach to common entrance. Responsible for both his academic and moral welfare. Willingness to impose strict discipline essential.

“And I assume she more than measured up to those requirements?”

“Yes, she did, Cordelia. She had studied classic at Oxford, at Lady Margaret Hall, which is my old college. She was unwilling to accept any excuse for failure, and believed the only effective discipline for an eight-year-old boy was to birch him for his shortcoming, whether in lessons or in his behaviour. James found Latin particularly challenging, and he probably suffered more from his failure to construe Vergil than for anything else.”

“Was he completely unfamiliar with the birch, or had it been used at his prep school?”

“Yes, it was used, but administered only by the headmaster. Punishments in the house were given by his housemaster with the cane. But a school punishment is different. It is a shared experience. There is a camaraderie in suffering, and the need to show you are as brave as the next boy. But for James the whole of Miss Ravenscourt’s disciplinary zeal bore down on him and on him alone.”

“So how would you describe their relationship, Diana?”

She smiled.

“Well at first it was very much that between a small boy and a governess who disciplines him. James was an adventurous boy with a strong will, and a week rarely went by without a birching. Like any boy, he had a strong aversion to pain, and Miss Ravenscourt’s floggings were not something he relished. He roared profusely under the rod and was chided for it and often received additional strokes for his vocal resistance. At first, he attempted to fight her, twisting about and putting his hands back . But that only meant he was secured over a low stool and the strokes doubled for his lack of compliance.”

“So how do you think James felt about that?”

“He resented it of course. But slowly he came to accept that academic and moral failure meant a birching and he recognised that Miss Ravenscourt had a real concern for his welfare. She was strong, determined and completely unsentimental, and had no compunction in lovingly applying the rod to bare flesh. Just as we do to our own children, Cordelia. But despite her obvious affection, she always insisted that he address her as Miss Ravenscourt or as Ma’am.”

“So how often was he birched, Diana?”

“Whenever she judged it necessary.”

“So, how often was that?”

“Well, given the strictness of her rule and her high expectations, certainly once a week, and sometimes more than that. He says that his bottom was rarely free of the evidence of a recent flogging. And in the schoolroom, several rods was always steeping in a bucket ready for use.”

She smiled.

“So, over time, the birch became not just an expression of her commitment to his discipline, but of her love. However harsh it may have been, it came from a really warm and compassionate nature. She was physical not only in her discipline but also in her affection. If he was struggling with a piece of work she would put her arm around him as she helped him see what was required. And there was always a story and prayers before she tucked him into bed. He still remembers the soft lingering warmth of her goodnight kiss on his lips.

So, when this woman, who loved him with a steady love he had never experienced from his own mother, birched him for his failure, his desperate sobbing was not just a response to the pain, but driven, too, by the fear that by his own behaviour he had put at risk the only source of love in his life. But then, miraculously, the birching which threatened that love became the very means by which love was restored.”

She paused.

“So, you can see how the birch assumed an enduring importance in his life: an image of the power of love and indeed the means by which love in all its ambiguity is expressed.”

She smiled.

“But bound up with the birch was his relationship with Laura Ravenscourt and that explains much else.”

“In what way, Diana?”

“Well, haven’t you noticed how James takes particular pleasure in your administering punishment. Don’t you remember how you spanked that boy who had fallen out of a tree and abused the hospitality of the infirmary. And how James watched as you spanked him. And now you are invited to flog Clough and Graham tomorrow. Isn’t it obvious that he sees you as the embodiment of Miss Ravenscourt.”

Cordelia looked startled

“You know, Diana, that thought didn’t occur to me. But that’s probably true.”

“I’m sure it is, Cordelia,”

“Then how does he see you?”

Diana laughed.

“Oh, in the same way, of course. When our first boy was first given a proper spanking around the age of two, it was obvious that James took a particular pleasure in seeing me turn him over my knee and apply the back of my hairbrush to his bare bottom. Of course, we discussed it, and the influence of Laura Ravenscourt on his development became quickly apparent. And from then on, he preferred to watch me, as the main, if not the sole, disciplinarian,.”

“So how did you feel about that, Diana?”

“Well, to be honest, Cordelia, I was perfectly comfortable with it.. I was very happy that all the boy’s’ discipline should be left to me.”

“You mean that James never punished them himself? “

“I wouldn’t say never. But it was very seldom. ”

“And didn’t you find it strange, that he should only want to watch?”

“Perhaps, I did at first. But I soon came to accept it. After all, watching, rather than doing, is perfectly normal in other walks of life. We enjoy watching a tennis match, and that offers a quite different pleasure and excitement to playing ourselves. I have no particular wish to go on the stage, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy an evening at the theatre.”

“Yes, Diana, I can see that. But given all that you have told me about James’s relationship with Laura Ravenscourt, I don’t see why that necessarily precluded his choosing to spank or flog a boy himself. You might think that his admiration for Laura might equally have inclined him to assume the mantle of disciplinarian himself. And that still leaves open the question of why you are happy spanking a boy while he is content only to watch.

“Goodness, Cordelia, that’s an almost impossible question. I feel like saying that’s just the way it is. We are all different. Some are cerebral, other practical; some like Beethoven while others prefer New Orleans Jazz. And I get a deep satisfaction from taking the back of a hairbrush to a boy’s bare bottom, while James experiences an equal pleasure from seeing me do so.”

“Yes, I can see that many of our likes and dislikes are not easily explained. But perhaps I haven’t completely grasped the nature of the influence Laura had and how it shaped him.”.

“Yes, Cordelia. I think that is right.”











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