Miss Strang Chapter 78
By Governess
liviaarbuthnot1@gmail.com

Copyright 2010 by Governess, all rights reserved

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit 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 78

Miss Strang rested the cane against Simon's bottom. This time there was no clenching and the flesh remained soft and firm. The room was silent. All that could be heard was Simon's rough, nervous breathing. Outside some sparrows were twittering.

"I have the impression, Simon that you consider I am dealing with you unduly harshly. Even unfairly. Is that right?"

Clearly, he was perplexed about the appropriate reply. Should he agree or disagree? In his mental anguish he clenched his bottom. There was a pause. And then Miss Strang raised the cane, swished it back, and then with a deep whoosh it cut into his small, soft bottom.

"Aaaaagh . . . aaaaagh"

"I said there was to be no clenching, Simon. Stand up and turn around."

He eased himself off the arm.

"I will repeat my question. Do you consider I am treating you harshly or unfairly?"

Flushed and tearful, he struggled to answer her.

"N . . . no, Miss Strang."

"Are you sure? What do you think, Livia? Dark resentful eyes, and a reluctance to obey simple commands are often, in my experience, evidence of a wayward and rebellious spirit."

I felt as though a heavy weight was pressing on my chest. I swallowed.

"I . . . I think he doesn't want to be caned, Miss Strang."

"Well, I am sure he does not, Livia. But the question is whether he is fully accepting of the need to be caned. To have his lack of application to his lessons corrected. Or does he harbour a resentful and ungrateful spirit? Well?"

"I . . . I think he probably does . . . Miss Strang."

She nodded.

"You need to be punished, Simon, for your lack of application. But a boy who is resentful is not going to learn from his punishment. So first, the spirit of resentment and ingratitude must be driven out."

He looked up, his face blotched and tear-stained. But his eyes were still dark and angry.

"But Miss Strang . . . I tried to do them."

She smiled.

"I am sure you did, Simon. But are you suggesting that I should only set you easy problems, sums that you can do standing on your seven year old head? Is that what you want?"

He looked down, his body stiff with resistance.

"But if I did that you would never progress. All you would ever be able to do would be to add two and two and make four. Is that what you want?"

He said nothing.

"No, Simon, a boy progresses by being stretched, by being challenged, by being set difficult work that provides the opportunity for mistakes from which he can learn."

"But that's not fair, Miss Strang. If you give me work that I can't do and then punish me for it. That's not fair."

"It may not be fair, Simon, but it is necessary. A boy must be given work that taxes him, otherwise he will never improve. But unfortunately, a boy who finds his work difficult and who struggles with failure inevitably becomes discouraged. And a boy who is discouraged will cease to make an effort."

She ruffled his head and almost imperceptibly he twisted away.

"And that is why the rod is necessary, Simon. It is the goad that drives a boy forward when he would otherwise cease to apply himself."

She paused.

"But I can see that you are not yet ready to learn that lesson. To accept the rod as a friend who persuades you to renew and redouble your effort."

She turned to me.

"You have just written an interesting essay on How Boys Learn from Punishment, Livia. So I should be pleased to hear what you suggest. How this spirit of resentment is best driven out so Simon may learn from the caning he is to receive."

I felt the blood rushing to my face.

"Well, Miss Strang . . . "

"Yes, Livia?"

"Well, I . . . I'm not sure . . . Miss Strang."

"Well, perhaps he needs to be spanked."

"Ye . . yes, Miss Strang. I think perhaps he does."

"And how would you spank him, Livia?"

"I suppose with the hairbrush, Miss Strang."

She nodded.

"And you believe that would bring about a change of attitude?"

"Well, Miss Strang, I think he is cross and angry and that's all he can think about."

"And how would a spanking help to change that? Would it not make him more angry?"

"No, Miss Strang, I don't think it would."

I could feel myself blushing.

"When . . . when I was angry with you the other day, I found that spanking made me less . . . angry, not more."

"Did it, Livia? And why was that?"

"Well I think being angry is like a lot of little demons buzzing and stinging you, Miss Strang. They are all you can think of. You can't concentrate on anything else. But being spanked made me concentrate on you and on what I had done wrong. And then, when it was all over, somehow not only my sin had been spanked away but also the anger. And . . . and I felt very calm. And I knew that you were in charge and I had to listen to you."

"That is most interesting, Livia. St Paul says in one of his epistles that chastisement never seems a joyous thing at the time, but afterwards it brings forth the peaceable fruit of righteousness."

She looked at Simon standing in nothing but his shirt. Still with a resentful, sulky look on his face.

"So, Simon, you have heard what Livia has said. What have you to say?"

He compressed his lips and looked down, saying nothing.

"Well, your whole demeanour speaks far louder than any words. A spanking is certainly needed."

She turned to me.

"Livia do you recall what Mrs McLaughlan said?"

I felt my heart almost miss a beat.

"Wh . . . what about, Miss Strang?"

"About being allowed to assist in the tutoring of your younger brother when you were a bit older."

"Yes . . . Miss Strang. I do remember that."

"Well, I think you are older enough to make a start now. Do you know what tutoring means, Livia?"

"I think so, Miss Strang."

"So what do you think it means?"

"It means teaching him, doesn't it, Miss Strang?"

"Teaching is certainly part of it. But the word tutor comes from a Latin word meaning to look at. And when you tutor a boy you watch him carefully, and make every effort to determine and meet his real needs."

She glanced at Simon.

"And we have both seen that this boy has a crying need for his resentment and sullen anger to be driven out. And as you have rightly said, Livia, until that is done he will be unable to learn from the caning necessary to keep him up to the mark with his studies."

I felt a quivering sensation in my diaphragm that ran down to the pit of my stomach. My mouth was dry and I could hardly swallow.

She looked at Simon.

"So, Simon I am going to ask Livia to provide that spanking and I suggest that you allow it to cleanse the spirit of resentment that is troubling you."

"No, Miss Strang. Please. She . . she's my sister."

"I am very well aware that Livia is your sister, Simon. But that is no reason why she should not provide the discipline you need. There is nothing untoward about an older sister spanking a younger brother, particularly when that brother is nearly six years her junior."

He frowned and bit his lip. His hands were clenched together and he was visibly stiff with anger and resentment.

"Well Livia, I have rarely seen a boy more in need of a spanking . . . "

Simon stamped his feet and started to cry. Tears of frustration and rage at his predicament.

"Stop that noise this instant, Simon. Livia is going to spank you and that is the end of it. And if there is not a big improvement in your attitude you will receive a further spanking from Mrs Mountfield. Your behaviour is an utter disgrace."

I could feel the little snake with his forked tongue flickering between by legs. I looked at Simon, his shirt tails covering his tiny genitals. Suddenly I began to panic. When I was younger I used to put my favourite doll over my knee and spank her. But Simon was not a doll. He was a living, wilful, seven year old boy. Suppose he refused to obey me. Suppose he resisted?

"Well, Livia, I imagine that you will wish to sit on an upright chair and have Simon across your knee. Is that right?"

"Ye . . . yes, Miss Strang."

She went to her desk, picked up the hairbrush and handed it to me. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Still dressed in shirt, jacket and breeches. And with my cropped hair I might easily have been mistaken for a rather beautiful boy. I remembered what Miss Strang had said about boys sent away to school. How the younger boys had to serve the older. And I imagined Simon to be such a younger boy. A boy who had to serve me and do my will. And whom I could beat if he displeased me. I took the hairbrush from Miss Strang's hand, and sat on the chair. When I had done so, Miss Strang picked up the padded stool and placed it by the left side of the chair.

"The stool is for Simon to rest his arms on when he is across your knee, Livia. That should make it easier for you to hold him securely."

She turned to Simon.

"You will address your sister as Ma'am, Simon. She is acting with my authority, and you will obey her as you do me. Please continue, Livia."

I pointed to my right side. His eyes were bright and his face flushed. Reluctantly, he stood where I had indicated.

"Do you know why you are being spanked, Simon?"

"No, I don't."

His manner was that of a younger brother addressing his older sister as an equal.

"You are speaking disrespectfully, Simon. If you truly have no idea, then I suggest you say, 'I am sorry but I don't understand why I am to be spanked.' So I'll ask you again. Do you know why your are being spanked, Simon?"

My firmness of tone seemed to have an effect.

"No . . . no, I'm sorry, I don't know . . . why I am to be spanked . . . Livvy."

"And how did Miss Strang tell you to address me?"

I glanced at Miss Strang who smiled encouragingly.

"She said I was to call you Ma'am."

"So why didn't you?"

"I . . . I forgot."

Miss Strang broke in.

"The reason you forgot, Simon, is that you are angry and resentful and cannot hold anything in your mind for more than two seconds. That is why you are being spanked. To give you something to concentrate on other than your own resentment. When that has been achieved, you will be ready to learn from the caning you are to receive for your poor performance."

She nodded to me.

"Please continue, Livia. Twelve hard strokes. And if there is any clenching or resistance you will start the spanking again from the beginning. Do you understand?"

I could hardly speak.

"Ye . . . yes, Miss Strang."

I reached around his waist and drew him gently towards me. And then lifting his shirt tails, pulled him forward over my lap.

(To be continued)