Miss Strang Chapter 8
By Governess
[email protected]

Copyright 2008 by Governess, all rights reserved

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Chapter 8

Both Simon and I struggled to appear engrossed in our reading. However, neither of us could keep our eyes off Miss Strang's unrelenting discipline of John. As soon as he had received the allotted two strokes of the hairbrush, he had immediately to dress and then strip again. He had tried to leave the removal of his underpants till last, but Miss Strang had curtly told him to remove his nether garments first. So, when he undid his tie, and pulled his shirt and vest over his head, his little circumcised member and tight little scrotum moved enticingly, like a small soft sea anemone on its short stalk. Although I had not yet reached puberty, I was strangely aroused.

Miss Strang was a cunning disciplinarian. She knew that the strokes of the hairbrush needed to be carefully placed if a boy's bottom was not to become numbed and the effectiveness of the spanking reduced. The first two strokes were given to the very top of each buttock, and she then placed each succeeding pair of strokes a little lower, until after eight strokes his entire bottom was red with inflammation. Thereafter, she spanked the sensitive backs of his thighs, working from the fold of the buttocks right down to the hollow of the knee.

By the time the hairbrush was laid aside, John was utterly broken, and visibly exhausted by his ordeal. His face was flushed and tear-stained, and his hair damp. He looked the epitome of a small boy who has been thoroughly disciplined.

It was only later that I came to understand that, although Miss Strang had a real liking for boys, she was under no illusion that bit and crop were needed to break in a young colt and render him compliant to her will. I remember her telling me that while a young horse could be broken relatively easily, a boy had a recalcitrance that was only conquered by long and consistent discipline. As he developed, there were fresh and more serious enticements to sin, and the leash of discipline needed to be shortened and tightened to restrain him within the bounds of what was permissible.

When John had dressed for the final time, he was allowed to sit at his desk and recover his composure before opening his book to prepare his reading.

Miss Strang sat behind her desk. She looked extraordinarily calm despite the effort expended in disciplining John.

"Close your book. Livia, and come and stand here. And hands behind your back please."

I felt my whole body inwardly shaking and the saliva thickened in my throat. I could feel the eyes of my brothers on the back of my neck.

"This gives me no pleasure, Livia. None at all. I see no reason to explain to your brothers what you have done. All they need to know is that discipline is necessary, and will not be withheld. I am aware that being whipped before them will be a shameful experience, but then what you did was shameful."

She paused.

"Now please go and change into your nightdress."

I avoided the eyes of John and Simon as I left the room, but I could feel their eyes on me. My burning face confirmed my guilt but gave no hint of what it was that I had done to fall into such disgrace.

I quickly changed into my nightdress, looking at my bottom in the mirror as I did so. I ran my hands over each buttock, and then letting the nightdress drop, felt the swelling contours through the soft clinging material. I then slowly returned to the schoolroom.

Originally, the schoolroom had been the nursery. It was an exceptionally large room, with leaded windows that looked out on two sides. Our desks were the traditional school desks with sloping tops that hinged open, and behind each was a separate oak bench. The rest of the furniture was also mainly oak, and in the gothic style that was then popular. There was a long table, various cupboards, and a large ottoman that was over six feet in length. Tucked between two large cupboards was a prie dieu, upholstered in a dark crushed raspberry pink. This had very short legs with a seat that was less than a foot off the floor. It had a long narrow back that sloped slightly away at the top. It was armless. I had often wondered about it, and my mother had explained that it was for praying. The seat was for kneeling upon and the slope was to support the arms when the hands were folded in prayer.

When, on the very first day, Miss Strang had surveyed the room with her sharp eyes, she had no doubt noted it. It was now to be put to a use other than prayer. When I entered the room, Miss Strang was seated at her desk and the prie dieu had been placed beside it. It looked rather like a throne.

Miss Strang smiled at me, and spoke in a warm even voice.

"Come and stand in front of my desk, Livia."

She waited. And I quickly put my hands behind my back.

"Last night, I said that you were to be spanked this morning before school. That is still my intention. You are the eldest and I expect to be able to rely on you. If I ask you to carry out a task then I do not expect it to be shirked or overlooked. A girl of your age can easily believe that she is more grown up than she is. I know that being spanked in front of your brothers will be an unpleasant and shaming experience for you. But that, Livia, is my intention. It will make you aware that you are still a child and subject to my authority. It will humble you, and, I hope, encourage you to put obedience to me above pleasing yourself. Do you understand?"

As I looked at her calm countenance and listened to her warm yet firm voice, I wanted above all things to be accepted by her and to be reinstated in her favour.

"Yes Miss Strang. I understand."

She smiled.

"Please fetch the hairbrush from the top of my desk."

I picked it up and as I took it across to her I ran its flat back lightly over my left hand. It was smooth, but cool and hard. I could imagine spanking a boy's firm yet soft yielding bottom with it. I swallowed as I handed it to Miss Strang.

"You will now kneel on the prie dieu, Livia."

I went to do as she bid, but she put her hand on my shoulder.

"But first we will turn it around."

I stepped back in puzzlement.

"On this occasion, I am going to spare you the humiliation of having to parade your nakedness before your younger siblings. Do you know what a sibling is, Livia?"

"No, Miss Strang."

"A sibling is a brother or a sister. You have two siblings, both are brothers."

She smiled.

"You are basically a good girl, Livia. And I am trusting that you will learn from this punishment, and that a repetition will not be necessary. But be aware that in future such clemency may well not be forthcoming."

As on a chilly morning, when the cold bite of the air suddenly begins to lessen as the sun rises above the damp wood, so Miss Strang's expression of trust thawed a little of the cold around my heart.

She turned the prie dieu around.

"Now please kneel on the seat. No, without kneeling on your nightdress. Now arms over the back and let them hang down. And clasp your hands together. And no slouching, Livia. Kneel upright and press forward."

My head and shoulder were above the top of the back, and I was looking directly towards Simon and John seated at their desks.

Miss Strang reached down and pulled up my nightdress, draping it over my shoulders. I could feel the chill on my back and I shivered slightly.

"Now please remember, Livia, I do not tolerate clenching of a bottom during a spanking, nor do I want you to shut your eyes as though trying to escape from my discipline into a dark world of your own. Both show a wilful refusal to accept correction. A spanking is not something to endure but something to accept gladly and learn from."

She paused. I met John's eyes, but he quickly looked away.

Miss Strang bent forward, and tapped the hairbrush against my left buttock. I winced, and involuntarily clenched my bottom. She brought the hard smooth back smacking down. I heard the sound of the impact and then gasped as an agonising pain surged through me.

"I said, Livia, you will not clench your bottom. Every time you clench you will receive an additional stroke. Please be a sensible girl and listen to what I say and try and submit to the discipline in a constructive manner. This is being done for your benefit, not mine."

Miss Strang waited while I composed myself.

"Straighten up, Livia. Eyes open, and a nice soft accepting bottom, please."

The next stroke was given to my right buttock. While the hand strapping of the previous evening had hurt, this was an altogether different kind of pain. The hand is small and delicate and because it is a bony structure, the pain, although intense, remains there, leaving a smarting red extremity. But a bare bottom absorbs pain as a sponge absorbs moisture. When whipped, it becomes saturated with a throbbing agony that seeps through the child's whole being.

Miss Strang waited for me to surface from the fiery sea in which I had been plunged. She never rushed a whipping. She told me later that this was of particular importance in the disciplining of boys. She knew that each stroke laid on a child's bare and quivering flesh was overwhelming painful, and that for a short time he would be conscious of nothing but his agony. And if she laid stroke upon stroke in quick succession he would became lost in his pain, whereas she wanted him to be aware, after each and every stroke, of his utter helplessness and subjugation under her authority.

(To be continued)

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