Miss Strang Chapter 86

By Governess

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.

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Chapter 86

On the following morning, immediately after breakfast, we set out for the reformatory.   I sat with Miss Strang in the frontholding her riding crop. Andas we jogged along, I rubbed the palm of my hand over itssmooth silver top. The sun was shining and there was a light breeze.   The boys were huddled together on the back seat. I glanced round and saw they were holding hands, pale and nervous at the uncertain prospect before them   At breakfast, Mrs Mountfield had with undisguised relish offered her own understanding of the ordeal facing them. She had ruffled their hair and smiled at the almost imperceptible resistance to her attention.

“Well, you boys won’t be getting a nice breakfast like this at that reformatory, that’s for sure. From what I’ve heard the cook there serves up cold lumpy porridge without milk and no sugar.”

She wiped her hands on her apron.

“And woe betide that boy who didn’t eat it up with a grateful look on his face. Elsie, the parlour maid before Mary, worked up there when she first left the orphanage. And the stories she used to tell. Made my toes curl they did.   There was one six year old, she said, who refused his porridge. Well, Mrs McLaughlan was called and he was soundly spanked with her hairbrush. Then crying and whimpering, he had to eat three large bowls of porridge. But that was not all.   He was stood in the corner to let it settle a bit while Mrs McLaughlan prepared a nice drink for him.”

She looked at the boys who were listening wide-eyed.

“And what do you think that nice drink was, Master John? It was a bright yellow colour. Well?”

“Was it orange juice, Mrs Mountfield?”

She shook her head.

“Not as nice as that, Master John. No, it was mustard. A nice mustard drink. And she stood over him while he swallowed it down. And then up came all the cold porridge into the empty bowlshe’d put in front of him.   And the poor boy had to spoon up all his sick and eat it. Elsie said she even made him scrape the bowl clean.”

She pursed her lips.

“What do you think about that, Miss Strang?”

“Well, it is not something I have done, Mrs Mountfield. But I am sure it proved an effective discipline. As you know, I expect children to be grateful for their food and leave nothing uneaten.And I trust that both Simon and John will remember that in the reformatory.”

“Well, let us hope so, Miss Strang. Elsie said the rules were that strict. And no quarter given.   She said one boy waseven flogged for not folding his nightgown right. You mean had his bottom smacked, I said.No, she said, flogged. With a thick leather tawse. Over the back of an older boy, trousers down and bottom bare. Elsie said she saw him afterwards when she helped with the bath. She said you could see the marks of the tawse all over his bottom and all down his thighs.And he was only seven.”

She paused.

“That’s your age, Master Simon, isn’t it?   Well, you’d better watch out. That’s for sure. And you, too, Master John. What they’d do to an older boy like you, I dread to think.”

The governess trap rattled on. When we arrived at the reformatory, Mrs McLaughlan was standing on the steps to greet us.

“Good morning, Miss Strang.”

“Good morning, Mrs McLaughlan. Children get down from the trap and say good morning to Mrs McLaughlan.”

We did so. And I remember the affront I felt at being cast as a mere child along with my brothers.

“Good morning, Simon. Good morning John. And good morning Livia.”

I reddened as she added.

“Still dressed as a boy, I see. But not for much longer I understand.”

She turned to our governess.

“I suggest, Miss Strang, that you bring the children to my room and I’ll explain to them what’s in store for them. Does that commend itself to you?”

“Yes, Mrs McLaughlan. That is perfectly acceptable.”

Mrs McLaughlan’s room was large and airy with a prospect on to the landscaped garden that rolled away into the distance. There were several upright chairs and Mrs McLaughlan indicated where we were to sit. She herself sat behind a desk and invited Miss Strang to seat herself in an armchair. I noticed the room had a chaise longue by the far wall. I glanced at my brothers and thought that probably each would be taking several trips across its curled padded end before the end of their reformatory training.

After referring to several sheets of paper on her desk, Mrs McLaughlan looked up.

“Well, children, welcome tothe reformatory.As I think you know, I’m the Matron here and I’m also house mother to the boys under thirteen years of age. That means I am responsible for setting the rules and punishing those who break them. Most of the boys here have never learned obedience to rules. And that is why they are here. But once in the reformatory, we make them obey rules all the time. Everything they do is subject to rules. Rules about how they fold their nightgowns, and how they make their beds. Rules about how to hold their knife and fork. Rules about when they may and may not speak at table. A lot of rules. So boys who’ve never had to keep a rule in their lifehave for the first time to watch their conduct and think about what they are doing and conform to what is expected of them. Of course, they resent this. And that is why every instance of rule breaking is punished. Until boys respect authority they will see no need to obey it.   Only if there are severe consequences for rule breaking will the authority that set the rules begin to be respected and then obeyed.”

She paused.

“You two boys are fortunate in having a governess who insists on obedience and who punishes disobedience. But be warned, there are probably many more rules here than you are used to. And if you disobey any rules whether through carelessness, or wilfulness, you will be punished. And punished severely.   On a boy’s first day, there are no lessons.   He is locked in a room and left to learn the behaviour that will be expected of him.   And from then on, any rule that is not kept will result in punishment.”

Miss Strang leaned forward.

“Perhaps, Mrs McLaughlan, you would tell the boys about the punishments inflicted in the reformatory.”

“Certainly, Miss Strang.First, boys are usually not punished immediately they break a rule. That would be much too disruptive. Instead, each boy has a small book into which staff enter every instance of rule breaking with the date. And at the end of each day, boys who have had an entry made in their book bring it to me at five o’clock. If it is his first disobedience in seven days, he willreceive six strokes of the hairbrush across his bare bottom. However, if it is the second disobedience within seven days, the punishment is a littlemore severe and he is given six strokes of the brush across the backs of his thighs, instead of his bottom. If a disobedience is the third in seven days, the hairbrush is replaced by the tawse and he will receive twelve strokes across his bottom. A fourth disobedience within seven days, and the twelve strokes are administered to the backs of his thighs. Anyfurther disobediences within a seven day period, and it’s a birching.”

She paused.

“So, if a boy has disobeyed on Monday, he will spanked with my hairbrush across his bottom. Six hard strokes. If he is then disobedient again on Friday, he will receive six hard strokes across the backs of his thighs. And if he is foolish enough to offend again on Saturday . . . “

She looked at John.

“Well John, how will be punished on Saturday?”

John was pale and his hands twisted nervously.

“I . . . I’m not sure . . Mrs McLaughlan.”

“Well, when he comes to me with his book on Saturday, how many times has he disobeyed in the last seven days.”

She prompted him.

“First on Monday, then on Friday, and now on Saturday. So his Saturday disobedience is the . . . “

She waited.

“It’s . . . it’s the third . . . Mrs McLaughlan.”

“Correct, John. So how will he be punished?”

“W . . . with the . . . tawse, Mrs McLaughlan.”

“Correct. And how will the tawse be given? How many strokes and to where?”

“T . . . twelve strokes to . . . to his bottom.”

“Yes. His bare bottom.”

She turned to Simon.

“I hope you are listening to this, Simon. It’s as important for you as it is for John.”

She tapped a pencil on her desk.

“But now the important question is what happens to that boy if he disobeys again? Well John?”

“He . . . he’ll get the tawse across . . . across his thighs . . . Mrs McLaughlan.”

She smiled.

“Well, he may, given his record of repeated disobedience. But it depends when the next offence is. Remember when his previous offences were: on Monday, Friday, and Saturday. The last day he can have a count of four offences in the last seven days is the next day after he was tawsed on Saturday. For that is exactly seven days after hisfirst offence on the previous Monday. So if he offends again on Sunday, he would certainly get twelve strokes of the tawse across the backs of his thighs. But if he doesn’t offend again until Monday, then as there will then be only three offences in the last seven days, he will be tawsed again on his bottom. Do you understand, John?”

I could see, John was confused. And I could see Miss Strang was irritated by his lack of comprehension.

“Come along John. Mrs McLaughlan has explained it very clearly. A boy who has gone seven days without disobeying a rule, gets the lowest possible punishment. So what is that?”

“A . . . a spanking, Miss Strang?”

“And where is the spanking?”

“On . . on his bottom, Miss Strang.”

“Yes, six strokes on his bare bottom. And if he offends again before seven days have gone by, Mrs McLaughlan will spank the backs of his thighs six times with her hairbrush. It is just a matter of counting up the number of offences in the last seven days and giving the set punishment.”

Mrs McLaughlan smiled.

“Do you understand now, John?”

“I think so, Mrs McLaughlan.”

“Good. We find that new boys, until they settle down, often have a succession of disobediences that need to be punished in this cumulative way. However, they soon learn to obey and punishment becomes rarer.   And remember, you must carry your punishment book with you at all times.   Which is another rule.   A boy who loses his punishment book is always, without exception, birched. So remember to take care of it.”

She paused.

“But generally, no distinction is made between the seriousness of one offence and another. Disobedience is disobedience. And that is the message we want to get across. If the rules say that a boy’s nightgown should be folded in a certain way and it is not, then that is disobedience and as deserving of punishment as an offence that might, on the face of it, seem more serious.There are one or two exceptions. The loss of a punishment book is one. Absconding is another. That would result in a double flogging before the whole reformatory.”

“And how would that be given, Mrs McLaughlan?”

“With the same weight of reformatory birch as used to flog the boy Cameron. Not the light weight birch that was used to carry out the sentence of the court. The heavier birch.”

“And a double flogging?”

“Forty-eight strokes, Miss Strang.   Given slowly and deliberately allowing plenty of time for the boy to smart between strokes.”

Miss Strang looked at my brothers.

“Well, I hope you have been attending carefully to what Mrs McLaughlan has been saying. And I suggest you both put a great deal of effort into learning the rules you need to keep.”

They both looked pale and small.

Mrs McLaughlan smiled.

“So have you any questions?”

Both shook their heads.

“You need to know that shaking a head rather than a polite spoken reply meansan entry into your punishment book. However, there will be no punishments for rule breaking until you have had an opportunity to learn the rules. But remember, all boys when spoken to are expected to reply politely and clearly without hesitation. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mrs McLaughlan.”

“Good. But your sister is also here to learn a lesson in good manners. Is that not right, Miss Strang?”

“Yes, Mrs McLaughlan. She was scandalously impolite to Mr and Mrs Innes some time ago and I sentenced her to twenty four strokes of the birch. In discussion with her father, it has been decided that she should receive a reformatory flogging.   And it was also her father’s wish that her brothers should be a witness to her punishment. However, since then, she has indulged in another bout of rude and defiant behaviour and that will need to be punished, too.”

“I quite understand, Miss Strang. I suggest we proceed to the punishment room and administer the first twenty four strokes and then discuss what additional punishment is appropriate.”

I felt my face hot with shame and anger at this conversation.   And I’m sure both Miss Strang and Mrs McLaughlan noticed this further evidence of a resentful spirit. I walked behind them, my head bowed, and my pulse racing. When we reached the punishment room, Mrs McLaughlan opened the door and ushered us in.

“If you sit with the boys on the bench, Miss Strang, I will prepare Livia for her flogging.”

My inside was icy cold with apprehension as I looked around the room. She addressed me with a firm formality that boded ill.

“Well, Livia Arbuthnot you saw how Burns and Cameron were flogged only a few days ago. Do you remember which of the boys was birched?”

“The boy Cameron, Mrs McLaughlan.”

“You will address me as Ma’am, please.”

She raised her eyes expectantly.

“Th . . . the boy, Cameron . . Ma’am.”

“Good. And that is how you will be birched. And with a similarly heavy reformatory birch. But first you had better relieve yourself. We don’t want an unseemly accident, do we?”

“Please, Mrs . . . Ma’am, I . . . don’t need to go.   Please.   I really don’t.”

Although my brothers had seen me stripped of my clothes and flogged, they had never seen me relieve myself. And I felt quite sick at such a humiliation.

“Livia, if I say you are to relieve yourself before your flogging then that is what you will do. No argument about it.”

She pointed to the chamber pot beneath the stool.

“Bring the pot here and place it on the floor.”

Reluctantly I did so.

“Slip off your braces and lower you pants and sit on the pot. And you will stay there until you go. But my advice is not to be too long about it.”

Slowly I crouched down and lowered myself on to the cold hard rim of the pot. I sat there, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment, and with my trousers and pants around my ankles. As Cameron had done, I found it difficult to pass water in such circumstances, but after several minutes, I managed to urinate into the cold enamel receptacle. The tinkling sound echoed around the room and added to my shame.

“Stand up.”

She peered down.

“Is that all you can manage?

“Yes, Mrs   . . .I mean Ma’am.”

“Very well. Step out of your nether garments. And pick them up. Fold them neatly and place them on the bench. And now over to the table.”

I hesitated.

“Come along, girl, none of this should come as a surprise. You’ve already seen two boys flogged over this table. Climb up and drop your arms through the holes.”

I clambered up and lay forward and then dropped my arms through the middle set of holes. Immediately I had done so, I realised how helpless and vulnerable I was. With my hands and arms dangling into empty space, there was nothing to press upon to raise myself. I had no choice but to lie there exposed to whatever punishment was judged appropriate. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mrs McLaughlan go a cupboard. I turned my head and watched. She opened it and then took out the small bolster that I had seen used when the two boys were flogged and wrapped it in a towel.

She walked back to the table, and placed her hand under my stomach.   Then then slipped it down so the heel of her hand was under my pubic bone. I felt her fingers curling intomy small vulva. I gasped and gave a little wriggle. She lifted me up and then let me fall back on the bolster that had been inserted beneath me. Then she rucked up my shirt.

“Well, Miss Strang, I trust you are content for me to give the girl a thorough flogging.”

“Certainly, Mrs McLaughlan. That is why she is here. As you know, out of a cross-grained and perverse temperament, she expressed a wish to be a boy. To teach her to mend her ways, she was dressed as a boy. And several times since then, she has had her breeches taken down and been punished as a boy. It was her father’s belief that she should be sent here, in her boy’s clothing, to experience at first hand a boy’s reformatory discipline. I dissuaded him from such a course, as in my view it presented insurmountable difficulties.   However, he insisted she should be sent here to receive a reformatory flogging. And that is what she must receive. She will then be going to the Innes’s household to serve there as a maid for a while. And hopefully to learn what it means to be a girl in service, and to acquire a more lowly spirit.”

“Yes, Rachel Innes mentioned that to me. Well, she will certainly need to mind her Ps and Qs there. The Innes have very high expectations of girls in their service.”

She smiled.

“As she will find out.”

I lay there shivering, partly from the cool air of the room, but more from fearful anticipation. I had seen and handled the birch with which the boy Cameron had been flogged. It had been long and enormously limber. And when Mrs McLaughlan had finished with him, he’d been sobbing and heaving, with his bottom flesh cut and bleeding.

I felt the leather strap being passed over my body and under the table and then pulled tightly around my waist, forcing me down and raising my bottom. But unlike Cameron or Burns, my feet were left unsecured.

“I have left your legs free, Livia. It does no harm for a child to kick and squirmunder the rod, providing the legs are not bent back to impede the birch.   I’m sure Miss Strang has trained you not to fight punishment.”

“Indeed, Mrs McLaughlan. Livia knows that punishment is inflicted for her own good and should be accepted meekly and without resistance. And as you say a little kicking and squirming does no harm. A child who is determined to suffer in sullen, stubborn silence is an affront. Much better for there to besome visible evidence that the child is suffering with a positive and open spirit.”

“I cannot agree more, Miss Strang.”

With my head turned, I watched as she selected a dripping rod from the bucket. She rested it across my bottom and then drew it towards her, pressing down, so it lightly scratched across the firm rounded surface of my skin.

(to be continued)

(The End)