TAKEN IN HAND 
by
Alex Birch

F/FF


November 24th 1893
Charlecote Manor
Dorset


My dearest Sarah,

It was wonderful to hear from you, my oldest friend, after so long and to know
that you are happy and well.  Now you are returned from Europe and I have your
address it allows too, the opportunity to share with you, my dearest love, an
experience which even now I cannot believe nor comprehend, an experience which I
would share with no other mortal soul for fear I should die of shame.  When you
have read my letter, I beg of you to destroy it lest it should fall into other
hands.  The degree of my humiliation should that come about does not bear a
thought, my dearest friend, so heed my words well.

As you may recall, after that last wonderful evening together when you stayed
with us and where we said those tearful farewells, I packed my bags and kissed
Mama goodbye before travelling all the way to London to commence my studies at
teacher training college where I have spent the past three years learning the
art of communicating wisdom to the young.  The course was hard and arduous, as
Mama had said it would be, for as you recall she was all for my taking an
allowance from Papa and seeing the world for a few years rather than 'soiling my
hands in the teaching profession which is fit only for working class women
possessed of some limited common sense and NOT for a young lady of breeding and
refinement'.  Well, Sarah, I'm glad I persuaded Papa to persuade Mama otherwise
(as I always can!) for I found the course work challenging.  I'm pleased to say
that I triumphed, for my examination results were excellent, enabling me the
luxury of finding a private finishing school for young ladies in London which
suited my appetites and offered a worthwhile challenge, not to mention salary!

My interview with the Principal, Miss Edith Haverstock, was an awe inspiring
event at which I was not a little nervous.  She is a lady of strong character,
as you will see, and, when I was ushered into her presence I felt immediately
cowed by her powerful personality.  I was surprised too by how handsome a woman
she is and only just forty.
'So, Miss Lucy Burton, you think you can wave a magic wand over our little
college and turn all our young ladies into models of academic excellence, do
you? ...' she began '...for your examination results were truly commendable!  We
certainly need a magician, that is for sure, for many of our young ladies try
their best but fall sadly short of perfection !'

I confessed that I was no Merlin but a hard worker who would try to bring my own
enthusiasm for learning into the classroom.  She seemed genuinely impressed and
I got the post, to my delight, and I was to start the very next week.  As I was
leaving her office, my spirits soaring, she said
'Just one more thing, Miss Burton.  You have earned  the post thanks to your
academic record and your obvious enthusiasm, not to mention your pleasant
personality ...' and I blushed with delight '...yet I do have some concerns
about your inexperience.  Our young ladies of eighteen or nineteen have the
bodies and emotions of women yet are confined to the disciplines of a learning
environment, frequently onerous for them and they become fractious.  The young
ladies are usually more interested in affairs of the heart than foreign affairs
but you must be firm with them..  It will be up to you to prove yourself their
superior by example, not presume they will assume it from your position. 
Setting a good example is paramount.  Do I make myself clear?'

I answered in the affirmative and, now the job was mine, I found residence at a
small hotel for single women near Paddington, reasonably expensive but quite
close to the school and well affordable on the salary I was to receive.  That
night, still starry eyed with excitement, I wrote to Mama and Papa and told them
of my good news then ventured forth to sightsee the capital city by Hansom cab
fiscally aided by a small reward sent from Papa for passing my examinations.
My teaching career began on the following Monday, eight weeks ago as I write and
already my hand is shaking as I start to recount the episodes which led up to
the moment which will live in my mind for ever.  I was conscious of my own
immaturity at first in teaching virtually grown women, but my reception was
polite and respectful, most of the girls responding to my teaching methods with
enthusiasm.  I grew in confidence rapidly as I began to feel in charge and my
initial nervousness became less as the girls responded to my manner.  However,
in a sea of tranquillity, my dear Sarah, there always lurks a hidden rock on
which the ship may founder and mine was in the shape of one Hon.Penelope Arnott
Trench, the eighteen year old daughter of a Baronet.

Penelope is undeniably pretty and intelligent too, when she sets her mind to it,
and that was the root of my problem.  Almost from the first, Penelope was a
disruptive influence in the class, passing round letters from her beau which I
confiscated as soon as I became aware of them but this led to glowering
indignation from Penelope, a tactic into which she managed to coerce some of the
other weaker minded girls.  This made life unpleasant sometimes and, though I
kept Penelope back after class on more than one occasion and asked that she
reconsider her attitude, my pleas fell on deaf ears.  As a last resort, I told
her that such behaviour would have to be reported to Miss Haverstock and she
coloured slightly but simply shrugged her shoulders.  Thus, after only two weeks
in my post, I found myself reluctantly discussing a girl's conduct in Miss
Haverstock's office, feeling that I'd failed.

 Miss Haverstock, however, attached no such blame, to my great relief.
'You have begun well ...' she smiled ' ...and the young ladies respect you.  So
does Penelope in her way for she is not a malicious girl merely lovelorn, for
she has a young man who is far away and every emotional strand in her body is
tearing her apart.  That is unfortunate but every young lady has to pass through
that phase and you are right, this cannot continue.  Bring her to me after
classes end.'

A cloud seemed to hang over the remainder of the day for Penelope sat in red
faced silence for once, knowing that she was due for a stern lecture ...or so I
thought... and the class appeared similarly subdued.  At the appointed hour I
escorted Miss Arnott Trench to the office of the Principal where she stood with
face slightly flushed and hands clenched.  Miss Haverstock spoke to her grimly
'Penelope, you have been brought here because your attitude is deplorable ...'
the girl lowered her head in acknowledgment '...and I think you know that.  You
are not a child but a grown woman of nearly nineteen yet you behave like a ten
year old.  This is not the first time your conduct has been referred to me and
you will recall that last time, I told you if this happened again, you would be
expelled from the college and your father immediately informed.  Do you think he
will appreciate how his money has been wasted on your education?'

To my astonishment, Penelope's cool composure suddenly disintegrated and she
burst into floods of tears.
'Oh no, Miss Haverstock, is there no other way?  I'm so sorry, I don't know why
I do these things but I do like Miss Burton, honestly I do, I just feel so ...so
...oh I can't explain!  I have let you down and I do deserve to be punished in
some way but don't expel me and I will work hard!'
Miss Haverstock began to smile slowly as she appraised the weeping girl.
'Penelope, you are a grown woman, not a child, so my professional options are
limited.  However I will not expel you, or inform your father, if you accept my
private and unrecorded alternative!'

The girl looked up, surprised and relieved, yet hesitantly asked what the
alternative was.
'I propose ...' said Miss Haverstock firmly '...in front of Miss Burton, to give
you a sound whipping!'
Oh my dear Sarah, I know not which of mine or Penelope's cheeks coloured the
most at this unexpected option but I can tell you a ripple of excitement, of
which I was most ashamed, ran through my body!
Penelope's face turned from crimson to pale as she considered the choice.
'I..I am nearly nineteen, Maam, surely I cannot ..I mean it is shameful to ..'
she stammered and her body trembled most delightfully.

'The choice is yours!' declared Miss Haverstock and waited as the trembling
young lady in front of her began to weep while slowly nodding her head in
acceptance.
Miss Haverstock rose from her chair, asking me to bring a low stool from the
corner of the room and to place it in front of the desk, which I duly did as
Penelope watched in trepidation.  She was then told to raise her long dress and
petticoat which, after some more embarrassed snuffles she did, revealing long
white drawers with small ties all the way down the back and beneath.  Her
clothing was then pinned securely to her shoulders.
Miss Haverstock went to her desk drawer and took out a whip which had a short
handle and eight fine strips of leather about fifteen inches long at sight of
which Penelope gasped in fright.

'This is called a martinet ...' Miss Haverstock announced '...and is used in
France for the correction of young ladies who will not behave thus we will see
whether its Gallic charm can translate effectively to your hindquarters, Miss
Arnott Trench.  Now stand with your feet on either side of the stool and bend
low over the desk, gripping the far edge.'
Red faced, Penelope did as she was told and I had to swallow hard as her
delightful bottom rose and swelled out.  With her feet apart and her rear so
extended through the thin drawers, the position was an embarrassing and
revealing one indeed and I began to feel sorry for the weeping girl, yet
shamefully excited.
Miss Haverstock beckoned me to stand to her right so that I could watch clearly
what was happening and I awaited the first blow, but instead, to my shock and
amazement, the Principal reached down and began to untie the bows at the rear of
Penelope's drawers, which drew a frantic wail from the girl and an abortive
attempt to rise, Miss Haverstock pushing her back down quite easily.

'Oh..oh Maam, please don't.  You never said you would lay me bare!' Penelope
wailed.
'Nor did I say I would not ...' Miss Haverstock replied grimly '...for my little
instrument does its best work on a girl's bare flesh and that is how you will
receive it!'
With a wail of self pity, Penelope lay down and abandoned herself to her fate,
sobbing quietly as Miss Haverstock undid every tie, one by one, right the way
underneath and then, with a flourish, parted the girl's drawers like two theatre
curtains.

Oh my Lord, dear Sarah, in the position in which the poor girl lay, her thighs
wide apart and her posterior raised, I have never seen anything so indelicate,
beautiful or exciting as Penelope's flawless and shapely white buttocks at that
moment.  She had been left totally without modesty between her thighs, the parts
that young ladies discuss in a whisper and which young men dream about fully
displayed to me, a fact of which she was obviously aware by her anguished
weeping.

Without further ado, Miss Haverstock flicked her wrist and brought the strands
of leather whipping across the pure white bottom with hardly a sound, but I
gazed, spellbound, at the tiny pink marks rippling across the alabaster skin as
Penelope howled in protest.  The whipping began to accelerate and the bottom
redden rapidly, accompanied by anguished shrieks from the humiliated young lady.
My breathing rapid, I noticed...oh forgive my directness, dear Sarah ...that
some of the strands found their way into Penelope's private places and I
wondered whether this was unacceptable cruelty but Miss Haverstock obviously
knew her business.  The scarlet backside began to wriggle lasciviously across
the desk and I began to shiver with excitement as I observed the effects of the
chastisement on the shameful parts, an effect so indelicate, my dear, that I
dare not describe it but soon Penelope's shrieks had become long moans as she
thrust her backside up, begging more of the whip.  Her body began to jerk and
lunge, the cheeks of her glowing red posterior  tightened then relaxed and then
her whole body began to shake and tremble, one long moan of pleasure escaping
from her lips.

It was some twenty five strokes before the delightful whipping of Penelope's
bottom ended, Miss Haverstock laying down the martinet and stroking the young
girls's hair before gently tying up the strings of her drawers and telling her
to dress.  To my astonishment, Penelope got up, red faced with shame, but threw
her arms around me and kissed my cheek, begging my forgiveness before leaving
the study.
'Miss Burton, you were a little shocked, I think by the decision I made to lay
Penelope bare and the ..shall we say..more shameful effects of the punishment
which thus ensued ...' Miss Haverstock ventured once we were alone and I nodded
in red faced acknowledgment '...yes I thought so.  Although the somewhat erotic
consequence of whipping is a subject never discussed in polite circles, I think
you know what I achieved with the martinet and that what it has done for
Penelope was as much therapeutic relief as punishment.  I think you will find
her less fractious from now on! If not she can be recalled and the dose
repeated'

Miss Haverstock was right for Penelope henceforth behaved as a lamb and the
whole class seemed to respect me more for the firm stand I'd taken.  However,
dear friend, there were shadows looming on my own horizon, for although the rent
on my rooms had seemed little enough when I got the job, I seemed to be running
into debt constantly and asking the landlady for a few days grace until my next
salary was paid.  Eventually I was bluntly told that unless I paid my rent on
time I would be seeking other lodgings.  This was a terrible blow to my pride ,
dear Sarah, as you can imagine for I was grown up now yet seemingly incapable of
managing my own affairs.

To my great distress, with the prospect of losing my lodgings, I was forced to
go cap in hand to Miss Haverstock and ask for an advance on my wages.  To say
that she was not pleased with me is an understatement but, after a lecture about
controlling my finances, she granted my wish with the condition that she did not
expect a repeat of this.
I left her office feeling chastened as a child, yet grateful for her kindness,
resolving to not get myself into this position again.  However, my sweet, you
know me well and I have never had much idea about money with Papa indulging me
so, thus it was not long before all my good intentions went awry.  Mama's
birthday present, some visits to the theatre and the purchase of an outrageously
expensive dress contributed to the same situation two weeks later, last Friday
indeed.  I timidly asked my landlady for a deferral to be met with a stern
refusal and a threat of being put out on the street if the rent were not paid in
three days.

Feeling wretched and with no one else to turn to, for my pride would not let me
write to Papa for money, I again went to Miss Haverstock and blurted out my
problems to her.  She listened quietly and then asked me where the money had
gone but I could only shake my head in despair.
'Miss Burton, this will not do ...' she said quietly and I nearly wept '...for
you are a teacher here and I told you how you must set an example.  How will our
young ladies turn out as responsible citizens if their teacher cannot even
balance a simple budget?  I will not answer your request here, you must visit my
home this evening and we will discuss it in full.'
I left the office in tears, holding a card with her address, but resolved to
discuss the matter in full that evening however demeaning it might be, for I
knew in my heart she meant what was best for me.  Thus after evening repast, I
duly hailed a cab and found myself at Miss Haverstock's well appointed Georgian
terrace home at the appointed hour.  Slightly to my surprise, she greeted me
herself at the door, dressed in a robe and slippers.  She must have read my mind
for she informed me that the maid had been given the night off.

We got down to business immediately, Miss Haverstock insisting that I go through
my entire costs and it soon became clear that with even reasonable budgetting I
should be able to pay for my lodgings with plenty to spare.  I sat with eyes
downcast as she looked at me with obvious censure, never having felt so
wretched.
'Lucy ...' she said softly and I looked surprised for it was the first time she
had used my forename ' ...you are an excellent young teacher and I have become
very fond of you.  However, I cannot continue to employ someone as feckless as
you seem to be for eventually the school will suffer when your personal problems
dominate your mind, nor as I said is it good for the girls to have a teacher who
is so irresponsible.'

 I gasped aloud, dear friend, and tears filled my eyes.
'Oh, Miss Haverstock, are you dismissing me? ...' I cried in horror'... for it
will break my heart!  I love the school and the girls and you have been so kind
to me.'
She smiled a warm reassuring smile and got up from the chair.
'Not necessarily dismissal, Lucy, but it's a step I may have to take unless ...'
she paused and her eyes pierced my own rendering me quite faint '...you agree to
be taken in hand.  You are young and away from the parental nest where I suspect
they wrongly indulged your every whim.  I am quite prepared to be a substitute
for them, Lucy, but I will keep you in line.  I believe it is someone strong you
need to depend on for help and guidance and I will help you with book keeping
and will vet your every purchase.  Would you like that?'

How had she read my inner soul so well, how had she so accurately discerned my
needs?  I cried out enthusiastically in my gratitude and relief.
'Very well ...' she said quietly '...but there are conditions.  Being taken in
hand means more than a lifeline, Lucy, it means being shown the errors of one's
ways too and remedying them.  I suggest there is no time like the present!  You
have already seen one young lady taught the error of her ways, have you not?'
I think I just stared at her then, my body trembling, a sudden excitement
mingled with fear filling my heart.  She couldn't mean ...
'Miss Haverstock ...' I cried out, crimson faced, my body shaking  '...you can't
mean to..to physically punish me?  I am a grown woman!  Oh to be punished like a
child is so humiliating!'

'Indeed, Lucy, but effective as you have observed with Penelope.  You are as
irresponsible as a child and have been pampered too long.  A blushing bottom
will concentate your mind wonderfully!  Now please follow me upstairs to my
bedroom, for I will brook no further argument!' she said firmly and, as if in a
dream I followed her upstairs without protest, my head spinning as we reached
her sumptuous bedroom which boasted crimson velvet curtains across the windows,
a fine dressing table and in the centre a magnificent four poster bed.
It was here, my dearest, that the humiliation of which I spoke at first came to
pass and even now I blush crimson as I write to you of that moment as I stood
trembling in the centre of the floor, a child in a woman's body.  Miss
Haverstock spoke softly but firmly and I swear, dearest friend, were you to know
her you would realise I was helpless to resist.

'Take off your dress and petticoats ...' she ordered '...while I fetch the
instrument I intend to use.'
With trembling fingers and a dry throat I obeyed immediately, my heart pounding
and my head spinning, for I had never been physically punished in my life yet
now at twenty two, I was to feel the humiliating scourge of chastisement for the
first time.  My mind was a whirlpool of emotions, dear Sarah, of shame, of
terror and of excitement as I remembered Penelope's punishment and how thrilling
had been the sight of her scarlet bottom displayed so shamefully.  Surely I
would be spared such gross indecency!  I turned my head as Miss Haverstock
returned and gasped with horror for she carried a sheaf of birch rods, the
moisture still dripping from the trimmed branches.  I whimpered in terror but my
mouth would not speak.

Miss Haverstock looked me up and down, dressed as I was now in only bodice and
drawers.
'Madam birch needs a full and tender target, my dear ...' she said firmly, then
as I cried in horror '...so remove your drawers completely and kneel up on the
bed with your head right down and your bottom right up!'
I ventured to protest but her stare dissuaded me, thus with trembling fingers
undid the strings of my drawers and took them right off, exposing my private
parts to her scrutiny.  I was weeping loudly now with humiliation as I knelt up
on the bed and thrust out my bottom as ordered.  Miss Haverstock was not
satisfied and demanded that I spread my knees and bend lower, my head right in
the coverlet.  Oh dear Sarah, can you imagine my shame!  Everything Penelope had
shown to me was I now revealing to my mentor and I whimpered into the bedcovers
as I waited.

I heard a swish through the air before the birch rods struck the centre of my
bared bottom and I screamed with the sudden pain yet was surprised how soon it
faded into a delicious glow.  The first cut had convinced me that the punishment
would not be too trying thus, resigned,  I thrust up my posterior for the next. 
The blows came rapidly then and after four or five I began to panic, for no
longer was my bottom a delicious glow but was rapidly becoming an intolerable
red hot furnace.  The punishment continued and I began to shout 'No more, no
more' as the terrible pain increased for, my dearest, not only was my poor
bottom becoming incandescent but a terrible burning had begun in the shameful
places that none but a lover should ever see.  I began to shake and tremble as
the birching continued and after some fifteen strokes, my eyes widened with
shame and horror for I realised something unexpected was happening, something so
embarrassing and obvious that I cried out in anguish, desperate to hide my
private parts from prying eyes.

Suddenly the birching ceased and I suddenly felt ridiculously desperate for more
and so vulnerable to Miss Haverstock's gaze as the parts which human decency,
under normal circumstances, prudently hides from exposure continued to perform
of their own free will making me moan and cry in frustration.  It was then, as
my eyes widened like saucers that I experienced a series of sharp stinging nips
between my legs, deep into the tender flesh of my womanhood and I knew Miss
Haverstock was using the martinet to satisfy me as she had done with Penelope. 
Oh Sarah, I squealed with excitement as my whole body began to tremble and
vibrate, a rushing, roaring sensual ache deep in my poor punished loins began to
heighten, heighten as the stinging leather continued to penetrate the most
tender part of my being and then I shuddered from head to toe, letting out a
long squeal of pure animal need as I fell forward, exhausted, nearly fainting
clear away.  I felt purified and very satisfied, my whole body a stinging,
pulsating sensual centre of pleasure.

The whipping stopped and I felt Miss Haverstock's hand covered in some kind of
cream gently massaging my poor punished posterior and the relief was so welcome
I cried out my thanks.  She continued to slowly cool my bottom with gentle
circular caresses, sometimes her fingers moving so far inside the crease between
my thighs that I gasped, then she occasionally paused to plant a soft kiss on
the burning cheeks as my hips rolled in silent supplication of Lord knows what! 
Eventually, dear Sarah though I am ashamed to say it, my pent up excitement
again became too much too bear and once more I was compelled to display my
disgrace in front of her eyes, crying like a child in my confusion and shame. 
Miss Haverstock was wonderful, telling me it was perfectly natural, then I could
hear her breathing, deep and intense, as she caressed me, whispering soft words
of kindness as she did so, her one hand gently stroking my face as I cried into
the bed covers, stretching out my hand to hold hers with childlike fervour.
 
Eventually she bade me get up and dress, gently chiding me for my fecklessness
and reminding me that more severe chastisement would follow were I to fall from
grace once more.  The warm smile as she spoke made clear that she happily
expected that to be the case and my warm response in embracing her tenderly and
kissing her lips made it equally clear that I would positively encourage such an
outcome.  Oh Sarah, I feel so happy and secure at last to be employed by a
wonderful person who cares for me and understands my deepest needs, though when
I returned to my class the next day I felt a burning blush consume my face as
the girls gave me their rapt attention, for I wondered wildly if somehow they
knew that their young teacher had earlier removed her drawers for chastisement
at the hands of their Principal.

Now I cannot wait for a visit from you, dear friend, for I feel we might develop
our girlish games and I earnestly beg you to experience the thrilling beauty of
a warm, glowing posterior, fresh from chastisement by a loving hand, as I have
acquired some specialist instruments for the purpose.  Until then, dear friend,
you remain sadly deprived of a deep sensual awareness which can take us to a
rhapsody of delights of which we had never dreamed.

Until our meeting, my dearest friend, I will love you always.
 
Lucy.
    
 

'Death is nature's way of telling us to slow down - Woody Allen'


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