Nell in Bridewell - Part 5

Just a brief recap:  so far, we've heard that Marie has obtained a pardon for her good friend, Nell.  Now, we hear from Nell on just how the pardon and Farewell will play out.

NELL to MARIE

My beloved friend, thank you! Thanks, a thousand times over. My hard times are over, I am free!

I have already taken a short walk through the city, and in a few hours, a carriage will take me to W.... from where I then start my journey!

Oh, little Marie, you don't know how completely different people, houses, in short everything seems, when you see them with the eyes of a free man!

Finally, finally free again! Some pain from my recent punishment is still with me and has not totally gone away.  Even so, new hope, and the blissful feeling of redemption, allow me to ignore them.

Early Saturday morning I was taken to the Governor's office. He smiled maliciously. (I think he was ecstatic at the opportunity to place me on the punishment bench a second time!) Apparently, he had been informed by his superiors that they were dissatisfied with his official conduct, and he blamed and held me responsible for that. It seems that due to my letters, which you shared with Councilor N., much has come to light about the “appalling” treatment of attractive female inmates in that horrible “sewing room”.  This “low life” blames me for the exposure of his reprehensible actions.

He told me, in confidence, that I would soon be free! That I could leave the House of Correction after I had received the traditional “Farewell”; namely, 25 strokes of the rod. He then called the task-mistress and ordered her to see that I bathed and then to escort me in my own clothes to the workroom where I'll await my punishment at 10 o'clock.

“She will,” he remarked, “be punished at the same time as the young arsonist and her fellow accomplice.”

These two inmates had been admitted to the House of Correction about 2 hours ago. The seventeen-year-old girl was an orphan and had been brought up by rich relatives. In spite of the fact that up to age 16, she went to an excellent school, and had nothing, but luxurious accommodations at her relative's house, she was somewhat frivolous in her ways and of easy virtue. No real surprise as both of her parents were itinerant actors and had been no better during their lifetimes.

Without getting into serious trouble, the girl played all sorts of foolish pranks, and ended up in a love affair with a Latin student; a handsome, cheerful, brown-haired boy, who was a year younger than her. This harmless dalliance was the cause of serious misfortune for both.

One day, her Uncle caught the young, pretty girl kissing her teenage lover. Enraged, her Uncle spanked not only the young girl, but also the lad, and strictly forbade either of them to have any more contact with each other.

Deeply offended, they both swore vengeance on him. Later as night fell, suddenly the crackling of fire could be heard.  The roof on the house was on fire, and it was only with great difficulty that the fire could be extinguished. Lottie H.... and her boyfriend, Fritz Sch .... had suddenly disappeared from the town that evening, and with that, the suspicion of arson immediately fell upon them.

They were pursued by the judicial authorities, and both arrested very next day in the capital.  Since they could not deny their involvement, had each been sentenced by the judge to 10 months imprisonment. I learned all this from Elisabeth, the task-mistress, who took me to the baths.

Just as we entered, a domestic servant knocked at the door, which was opened by one of the two women employed in the baths. “Here's the new girl. She's to be bathed and then taken upstairs.  The boy will go into the tub after her,” the servant explained curtly, and then left.

The girl stood at the door with her head bowed. Dear Marie, I can honestly say that I have never seen anything more lovely than this little arsonist.  As she stood in front of us, we could see she had a delightful physique, full and round, a pale, little face with blushing cheeks, dark curly, and a pair of large, deep dark eyes peering out into the world.

She might have been crying a lot during these last two days — she had only been taken into custody the day before yesterday — for her eyes were very red.  She seemed not to understand how her crime could deserved such severe punishment.

“Come in, girl!” cried one of the bath-women, “Get undressed quickly and into the tub, so your lover will be able to bath in warm water. The young girl approached timidly, unaccustomed to being spoken to like that in her boarding school. But when she didn't undress quickly enough, I had to assist her. I was happy to do it. I really liked the young girl, whose behavior and expressions portrayed decency and a very fine education. 

Hopefully, the new Governor, who will take over next month, will protect her from having too close contact with the rough prisoners and will teach her not only by means of punishments and severity, but also in a real educational way. If the current Governor remained in office, I think Lottie would get the rod more often, because she is really beautiful. This I immediately understood when I stripped off her fine shirt and she stood naked in front of me. A sculptor would have appreciated her; everything about her youthful body was so attractive, so rosy.  The bath-women looked at her carefully and one of them remarked: “It's a pity our Cunigund is no longer here. For Lottie would have looked most appealing on that whipping-bench and Cunigund would have done a wonderful job marking up with 'Bonifazia' (whippy rattan cane) her beautiful hind-cheeks. Well in any case, they're going to give her virgin backside a sound tanning.”

In the meantime, I was also finished bathing, and tried to cover myself with my rough prison shirt.  One of the bath-women took it out of my hands, and instead, handed me a white shirt, rich with fine lace decorations, which I had brought with me to prison. “Yes, yes, Nell,” she laughed, “now prison life is over for you. Now you get to be educated by the birch one last time and then you can go wherever you want!  Well, it's a shame, because we won't get to see anything so beautiful again in our lifetimes.”  She then lifted up my shirt and gave me a few hard slaps on my backside, which she totally enjoyed. “No, such tender skin! Just look at them - the two cheeks already blushing red! Well, she's in for a treat when her firm bottom gets to feel the birch with it's whippy branches!”

With that they left the room, and I was alone with the pretty arsonist. Lottie was just getting out of the bath, and I was helping her dress, when she asked me what the women actually meant when they talked about Fitzen, Schranne, Bonifazia, etc.

“Yes, young lady, I suppose I should tell you. The 'Boniface' is a rattan rod, 'Schranne' is the name of the whipping-bench and 'Fitzen', well, 'Fitzen' refers to the actual punishment of the rod when either we girls or young lads have to hold our bare buttocks up so that they will be whipped and painted red to the point of some blood oozing.”

“I'll never allow that! I won't put up with it!” Lottie exploded. “I would defend myself; bite, scratch, lash out with my hands and feet if anyone ever tried to hit me.” 

“Little fool,” I said, “with attitude like that, you will certainly get your bare bottom often whipped. Here in the House of Correction we have to be humble, obedient and submissive.  Such a little kitten, like you, will not be spared until the defiance is driven out of your head, and the birch rods will do that most effectively!”

“But I'm already 17-years-old and Fritz is 16-years-old, so we can't be spanked anymore!” Lottie began to interject.

“If you were 40-years-old, you would still not escape the whippings,” I advised her. “And you are too small to defend yourself by biting and scratching. What do you think, our task-mistress Elizabeth, will put you on the whipping-bench as if you were a schoolgirl?  Once you're strapped down, nothing will do any good. It's best you keep completely still or at most beg politely. Speaking of which, weren't you in a boarding school until you were 16? Didn't you get spanked there, on occasion?”

“Yes, I was in a very fine Institution. When we were naughty, the headmistress usually gave us a few slaps on a thin punishment dress with a hazel switch, but never with a rod and on our naked behinds!  Oh, I think I would be ashamed to death, if I were ever punished like that by a stranger!”

“Well, Lottie, I have to tell you: In two hours, these two round cheeks”, I lifted her skirts and gave her a few slaps on them, “will be so whipped that you won't want to sit on them for days. At first there are small, fine welts until everything is fiery red, then thick welts form and finally, when your bottom globes get too swollen, your tender skin will burst open, and your dear warm blood will appear in small droplets.  All of this results from the work of a bundle of birch saplings. Yes, little one, that's the way it is in the House of Correction, which is much different from a boarding school, and you mustn't forget that you were convicted of intentional arson!”

Lottie began to cry. She cuddled up to me anxiously and looked at me imploringly: “What, I'm getting a whipping today!! Oh, you're just kidding, right?”

“No, my little one,” I replied, embracing and kissing her, “I'm telling you the truth. But take comfort, Lottie! Look at me, I'm now almost 23-years-old, bigger and stronger than you and yet today, I'm also getting whipped.  But I've been whipped much harder, not like we're facing today - by a women's hand with the rod - but by a male Overseer with the bull's pizzle. Oh, that hurts terribly! Well, you'll find out eventually when you get your 'Farewell', because by then you'll be over 18th and most likely will be whipped with the bull's pizzle!  Yes, indeed, that's the way it is! When that day comes, you'll have to put on very thin “whipping-drawers”, your shirt will be lifted away and your drawers will be pulled very, very tight. Then your lovely bottom will be whipped so badly that you'll just scream in agony. Thank God, as soon as I have been birched today and the welts have healed, I'm free! But you're going to stay here for ten long months. Oh, what a shame it is for you... and Oh by the way, your Fritz won't fare any better.”

During this conversation, I got dressed. Lottie also wore her own clothes because she was would not be getting her prison clothing until after her punishment. Oh, it was a great feeling of freedom, when I was finally able to take off those hated, ugly prison clothes! — You see, dear Marie, female vanity never goes away!  I forgot all about my long, fine black stockings, my little boots, my lace panties, my white petticoats and my skimpy brown dress - oh, how often it was met with my lover's approval, how often he has caressed me in it! — I put them on again, reminded of the freedom, which was only a few hours away.  My hair, too, was no longer required to be in the House of Correction cap, the so-called pig's stomach and so, I styled it like before. I was as happy as a child when later, in the Governor's room, I saw my image in the large mirror no longer a miserable prisoner, but a smiling, finely dressed young women.

When Lottie and I were taken out of the bathroom by the task-mistress, Lottie's accomplice, a lovely boy of 16, was standing in the doorway. When I saw him, I almost felt a longing to place him upon the whipping-bench myself. I saw him only for a few moments, then he had to go to the baths. Lottie had cast a hot glance at him with tear-filled eyes, but he didn't react to it. Was he sufficiently preoccupied with his own fate or was he angry with her, who had caused all his misfortune and destroyed his future? He looked quite handsome! For him also, the change in the management of the institution would be most beneficial, for what wanton chastisements the present, and soon departing Governor would subject him to, if he remained in office!

Elisabeth took Lottie and me to the workroom, where Lottie was seated next to Leonora and Minchen. The little girl was crying incessantly now. Her stunning looks immediately attracted the attention of all the spinners, and while I was showing her the art of spinning — my appearance in stylish clothing also caught notice — we heard all kinds of comments about today's impending punishments: 

“What's up with these two ladies here?” they said. “It's going to be a real beauty competition today on the whipping-bench. First, we have the beautiful Helen, then the almost equally lovely Lottie, and finally her charming lover all going under the rod. If Cunigund were still here, she would have the happiest face today. All three of them should be put on the bench down in the courtyard, so that we could all see the punishments. For who doesn't like to see a girl's rosy bottom well spanked? The young one, when they bare her cheeks in front of young gentlemen or in front of the fine ladies, who might know her from boarding school, will be consumed with shame! — Well at least, she brought her sweetheart with her to the House of Correction.” etc.

Lottie blushed to the roots of her hair. I think she will soon be ruined if she is not placed in more suitable and better surroundings as soon as possible. Can't you do anything for her, my faithful Marie? Perhaps the noble Government Councilor N. can help here too? I beg of you, dear friend, because Lottie doesn't seem inherently bad to me, but rather reckless and, above all, rash. In the current environment, she'll be completely ruined in a short time. I saw the hot, covetous glances with which she was regarded by many a spinner, especially my former bedmate, who directed her sensual attacks at one time on my body, and now seemed anxious to undress Lottie with her eyes!

Lottie learned quickly the art of spinning. I was then taken to the Governor's room to continue working on the embroidery, I had started, until I was to be punished.  I was happy to have this more challenging work, because when spinning you soon become consumed by your dark thoughts and fear of impending misery just increases!

In the doorway, the Governor greeted me, amazed and surprised to see me so changed in appearance. He embraced me warmly, kissed me sweetly, almost motherly, and stroked my hair. “My poor Nell, soon you will have to be put on the awful punishment bench again! Well, take comfort, it will soon be over, and it won't be as bad as your “Welcome”! But how cute you look in your own clothes; you're almost unrecognizable! You're really lucky that there will be no gentlemen present to witness your punishment, because if they were to see you so lovely, they'll make you a declaration of love while you are still on the whipping-bench! Now seriously, your beauty really blossoms in this tight, little dress.”

“Look,” the Governor yelled out the door, “Look, madame, our beautiful Nell has put on pretty clothes, because today Monsieur Birchwood comes to visit!”

“Oui, ma chère,” replied a voice from the next room, which I immediately recognized as that of the distinguished lady who had done most of the talking during my first chastisement. Shortly, she entered and looked me over through her eye piece from head to toe. “Superb, beautiful!” she began. The Governor nodded in agreement and promptly left the room, explaining that duty called elsewhere.

“Please come closer,” continued the lady (I learned later, she is the widow of a Privy Councilor) sitting in an armchair. I stepped closer to her. “Indeed, the more one looks, the more beautiful she appears! Does she really have to lie down on the whipping-bench in those pretty clothes? Well, that's very thoughtful of her, by doing so she can increase the enjoyment of the whipper, or rather being whipped. Well, Nell, you already know (she suddenly began to become more personal) how the rod feels. Are you fearful of the rod?”

“Oh yes, madame, I am so afraid of it, not so much because of the pain, more because of being given the rod at almost 23 - like a schoolchild. That is horrible!”

“Well, Nell, that's just silly! Come here,” and with that she pulled me closer to her. “You see, if I were your mother, you'd still get the rod even if you were 30 years old. Just the day before yesterday, I chastised my two nieces,17- and 18-years-old, both big strapping girls, on their bottoms with a cane, so hard that their hind-cheeks were still hot and red that evening. Look, I took them over my lap like this (with a grip around my waist, the Privy Councilor's widow forced me to assume the same position over her knees), lifted up their dresses and slips (despite my, admittedly weak, resistance, she immediately put her words into action), opened their panties, folded back their shirts and then I smacked them so hard that their cheeks were soon glowing!”— The lady ran her soft, well-manicured hands over my now exposed bottom cheeks as if testing, caressing them and tickled me with her fingertips and finally continued: “So, Helen, think of me now as your Aunt, who punishes naughty little girls.”

Slap-slap-SMACK  her hand fell on my full cheeks, not really hard, but enough to cause some pain.  I twisted and squirmed on her lap, but that only seemed to increase her pleasure in this spanking, for she continued the slaps until my flesh burned and she finally stopped, exhausted.  I wasn't allowed to get up yet; the stroking and caressing began again. Suddenly, I feel the PC's widow presses her lips to the parts she had spanked.

“Oh, madame,” I begged startled, “please, let me up, please, please!!”

But her touches seemed to intensify, and my pleas went unheeded. Again and again, she slapped and kissed my bottom and none of these touches took place without sending my body into unexpected arousal. Was it the heating of my flesh through the spanks, or was it her caresses that made me so willing? In short, I no longer resisted her, and suffered all her little physical touches and slaps. Silently, and yes to my shame, I must confess that I almost came with her.

She told me to sit on her lap. I did. The lady, still a voluptuous beauty despite her being 50 years old, pressed me tightly to her and kissed me hotly on the mouth. For a long, long time she let her lips rest on mine; I didn't stop her, even when she quietly slipped her tongue between my lips. I forgot that I was in the House of Correction; that in the next hour I would be whipped severely. Forgot that all the kindness of the PC's widow towards me was only a pretext to take pleasure in my body. I could tell by the way her eyes glowed, her full limbs trembled, and her breasts heaved. Her voice sounded rough and hoarse. Her breathing became more and more hurried, her hands touched mine, her tongue twitched against mine like a snake's. Suddenly she pressed me against her so closely that I almost lost my breath, her eyes closed, her limbs stretched convulsively, she seemed completely gone. Little by little, the tension of her arms was released, she released me, kissed me again, and then let me stand up. My limbs were also shaking. A cursory glance in the mirror and I saw my hot, flushed face; my breathing was rapid. I had the strange feeling that I should ask the PC's widow to continue the sensuous chastisement!

Oh, dear Marie, don't be angry with me. Believe me, in the void of the House of Correction, at the sight of so many vicious public whippings, at the sight of uncovered bodies, even of the opposite sex, it is no wonder then that inmates, and especially the more sensitive, female ones, are often longing for light, more playful than painful strokes on their bare backsides.

The distinguished lady looked at me for a while with a smile, then she rose as if seized by a sudden decision and left the room. Immediately afterwards I heard her conferring at length and urgently with the Governor, who was greeting the invited ladies...

Just then the ladies entered the room where I was working on the embroidery.

There were more young girls here today than at my first chastisement; all blossoming, rosy faces and pretty, youthful figures – all come to see us, young women and the young lad, punished on the whipping-bench. The PC's widow stood in their midst; she no longer paid any attention to me. I was to her now only an inmate, in spite of the fact that only a few minutes earlier she had caressed me hotly and passionately. A few young ladies had also turned up so as not to miss out on the expected pleasure in the punishment room.

Then, the task-mistress arrived to take me... to my painful “Farewell”!

“Ah!” they called after me, laughing, “Helen is hurrying to dance with Monsieur Birchwood! Hopefully, his hugs won't get too passionate and too hot for her.”

My two fellow sufferers were already sitting in the workroom. The task-mistress ran out as soon as I entered; I have no idea know why.

Lottie cried quietly to herself when the bucket filled with the rods was brought in. My heart was pounding too, for the branches, pointed and sharp, which were supposed to make intimate acquaintance with our poor bottoms, threatened to give us three rod candidates an extremely painful quarter of an hour. It was as if I could already feel the punishing switches wrapping around my bare thighs and forcing out of me plea after plea, tear after tear, and scream after scream! Lottie clearly felt the same as me. Fritz, her lover, gritted his teeth and tried his best to appear as defiant as possible.

“Poor boy! You don't yet know the sharp pain of the rod. Perhaps you think it's nothing more than child's play? How mistaken you are!” — I had time to take a good look at the charming boy. Despite his 16 years, he was already powerfully built. His face bore the stamp of intellectual education and differed significantly from the mostly dull and indolent features of the other male inmates. He had a blooming complexion, delicate skin, beautiful big eyes and especially dark brown, luscious curls. I couldn't blame Lottie for losing her virginal heart to him, as I and the other females present liked him just as much.  He felt shame at being punished like a child with a rod in front of so many women, probably even more than Lottie, who seemed to have gotten a little more used to the idea after talking to me.

Little by little the room filled with a number of women and young girls, none of whom could conceal their curiosity about the impending punishment. There were common folk, talkative and gossiping, but at least I believe more compassionate and sympathetic than the ladies of the aristocracy, who did not appear until just before the beginning of the free show. These ladies were also joined by the Governor and the Governor's pretty, well-built cousin, who - you will probably remember from my earlier letter - punished that inmate Catherine for faking pregnancy.  Thekla, that's the cousin's name, has been visiting again these last few days as of course, she wouldn't want to miss the rare opportunity to complement her knowledge of male and female bare hindquarters.

The Surgeon had spoken to me quietly and tried to comfort me.

I was just about to sit on the bench, designated for the inmates to be punished, when the Governor entered and beckoned his cousin and me over: “The task-mistress has suddenly become ill, and I don't know when she will recover. So, you two will punish the two inmates, Lottie and Fritz. After that,” he continued, turning to Thekla, “you will finish by giving Helen her “Farewell” with the rod!”

Look, my dear Marie, what Leonora has recently tried to prevent, has now happened after all, your Helen has become a “whipper”! Yes, I swung the rod hard and enjoyed its effects, but when it was all over and I myself suffered under its strokes, I made up my mind: 'Once, and never again!' Thank God, I am now leaving this house, and out in the world I will never be tempted to perform this work. Once united with my Isidor, then his love will replace everything else for me!