Nell in Bridewell - Part 7

Again a brief recap:  We've just completed Fritz's "Welcome" to the House of Correction.  Fritz, of course, is Lottie's lover/ex-lover and it was Lottie's plan to set fire to her Uncle's house that landed them both in prison.  Now, it's time for Lottie's formal Welcome to the House of Correction.

Now the Governor commanded silence to prevent the highly aroused ladies from vocalizing their elation and ordered Lottie to the punishment bench.

The young girl was completely intimidated and had absolutely no intention of putting up even the slightest resistance; there was no talk of scratching, biting or lashing out, despite her brave words to the contrary back in the baths.

“Take off your clothes!” ordered Thekla.

Lottie undressed quickly and without any hesitation. She probably realized that to do otherwise, she would only be punished more severely.  She dropped her dress, blouse and petticoat.  Then, she stood before us, her tear-stained face red all over, her eyes lowered to the ground, dressed only in a fine shirt, short white lace panties, long black stockings and cute little boots, in a state of beautiful virginal confusion.

She had to stand still, because the Governor was about to read out her sentence. The closer she came to her impending punishment, the greater her fear became. Her beautifully shaped buttocks, clearly visible under her thin panties, twisted and turned in all directions in anticipation of the coming pain; all the while she sobbed quietly. The snow-white, firm flesh, visible on her neck and throat, her bare arms and between her stockings and panties, was covered with the kind of goose bumps that many young girls get when afraid they might be spanked.

When the Governor finished, I untied the drawstring on Lottie's panties and took them off. Thekla tied the girl to the whipping-bench and pulled her shirt up so high that Lottie was naked from her neck to her knees.  Overcome with fear, the pretty arsonist raised her white, firm, tender bottom and twisted in all directions, to the great amusement of the spectators.

“You can see that the young lady has an education,” said an elderly lady. “She is so attentive that she turns her magnificent hemispheres towards us from all sides so that we can compare, when the white lily dress has been taken off these globes and replaced with the more common one woven from ruby beads and red threads, typical of those who lie on that bench.”

The Governor had exchanged a few words with the Surgeon and now stated: “Lottie, in accordance with her sentence, having been found guilty as the actual instigator of the crime of arson, will be more severely chastised. Having consulted with the Surgeon, who raised no objections, I order that she initially be given six hard strokes of the cane, followed by an appropriate number of strokes of the rod, all under the oversight of our Surgeon!”

“How nice!” cried the ladies, “that she is to also get the cane! It will crack and resound on her firm, white virgin flesh, completely different from the rod, whose impact you can hardly hear!”

“Poor girl, how she will scream and cry when the cane dances on her bottom! Yes, yes, how different from her boarding school, where the most they dared was to lift up the young ladies' skirts to warm their seats!” 

“Well, she'll forget about ever starting fires again once you've warmed her seat up good! Look, now they're bringing the cane! Oh, how thin and pliable! I sure wouldn't want THAT to come cracking down on my bottom.”

On the Governor's orders, I took up the cane.

I tapped the cane several times on Lottie's cheeks to measure distance and establish my aim. Then I took it all the way back and swung it down hard.  WOW!  The cane just roared as it cut through the air and then a loud CRACK as it whacked into the firm meat of Lottie's behind.  This immediately created a thin, dark red welt and Lottie screamed like a madwoman! Her entire slender body bucked high off the bench, and you could see her rosy breasts going up and down as she gasped for air. 

“Oh, I... I can't stand it; I'm dying! — Oh — ah — no — no more — Oh — Please no—I won't do—oh don't!” screamed Lottie.

“You've got to hand it to Nell; she knows how to use that cane!  It's a lovely sight when she fixes her aim on those juddering cheeks.  Then, with outstretched arms, she takes the cane all the way back, raises her adorable figure up on her toes and swings the cane with all her might onto those rosy globes, causing them to buck high in the air in both agony and fright.”

“Yes, just look at her face! How happy she looks, how her eyes shine and her cheeks glow! She cannot contain the excitement within her, for her full breasts almost burst her bodice, so violently do they heave up and down!”

Ignoring all this chatter, I gave three more strokes to the young girl, each of which resulted in renewed screaming and begging. Four raised welts were now on her cheeks, straight lines as if drawn with a ruler. For the last two, I stuck in the middle of the beautifully curved, round globes to create fireballs of pain deep in their meat. (I thrashed just as I had suffered under the Overseer only, he used a much heavier bull's pizzle on me.) After that last stroke, I sawed the cane back and forth several times on the welts.  This must have caused Lottie a great deal of pain, because when I first touched the cane to her welts, she tossed and bucked so wildly I thought she'd turn over on the bench!

“Please, please, dear, good lady, don't do that, stop doing that, oh, it burns so much—oh—please stop! — I won't do it again — help! Oh please, not so hard!” Lottie screamed and begged. But Thekla quickly came over and immobilized the girl on the whipping-bench by holding both of her legs down firmly. Thus, preventing her from twisting or turning.

Continuing the sawing at a leisurely pace, I brought increased sensitivity to Lottie's beautifully shaped, but now dark red, juddering hind-cheeks. This intensification of punishment brought on childlike pleas. Lottie promised eternal obedience, called on the Lord for help, and repeatedly called on us for mercy: “Oh, please don't do that - dear God, help me! - Oh, how it burns terribly - help me! Oh, my flesh is in flames - I'm going to die!”

Eventually, I stopped sawing with the cane, put it down and we both took up rods.

We were instructed by the Surgeon to start off on Lottie's back, but to avoid her breasts, as even light lashes there can cause harm. So, I knelt down on the punishment bench, and covered Lottie's breasts with my hands to protect them.

As I did so, I put my mouth close to the little girl's ear, because to me, the 17-year-old was still just a little girl. I couldn't resist delivering a sort of gallows sermon, just as the Overseer did to me when pulling my drawers tight:  

“Well, young madam, isn't this nice to be lying on the whipping bench without your skirts, and to be birched... like a naughty schoolgirl? What would your boarding school friends think if they could see you now? Or even your young man? No, the awful shame! But that's the way it has to be. You see, Mamselle Thekla targeted your white back and as I warned you, she can hit hard. 

Now that your back is done, she'll begin on your bottom. How embarrassed your backside is; see how it blushes! Look there is the first speck of blood. But why don't you lie still?  Why are you kicking like that? Why do you buck your behind up like that? Wow! You are bucking like a little wild horse! It's OK, keep squirming, the rod will find you, no matter how much you twist and turn! Yeah - right on target. Now that stroke really hit home; didn't it? Oh, it's educational for young ladies when the good rod dances on their tender, bare cheeks! Yes, yes, a good birching teaches young people that misbehavior has consequences!"

Once Thekla had blood oozing all over on Lottie's sore cheeks, the Governor ordered me to apply 17, same as her age, strokes to her white, tender thighs. By the fifth, the delicate skin on her thighs was raw with blood seeping in places.  For the last seven strokes, I first had to pull her long stockings all the way down to her heels.  I then aimed for the back of her knees and her plump calves.

Once more the Surgeon called a halt and told us to let Lottie get up. The poor little girl couldn't stand on her feet, she was trembling so much. We dressed her in a quick, makeshift manner. Then two young girls, about her age - friends of the Governor, escorted the well whipped girl to the infirmary.

Two down and now only one to go - Nell herself!