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' -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Google Home - Advertise with Us - Business Solutions - Services & Tools - Jobs, Press, & Help ©2004