by Victor Bruno
Miss Bernice confirmed it. “Now each of you is going to learn what it’s like to have every inch of skin taken off your backsides!” she rasped. “Get back to your cubicle, Melanie. This matter will be dealt with first thing in the morning.”
Weeping, Melanie stumbled her way out. The unthinkable had happened. But how... how? Lucy had somehow let them down.
Miss Bernice left Virginia crawling back into bed. The girl was numb with shock. She couldn’t believe it had happened. That she and Melanie were going to be birched.
In front of the whole School.
It was an impossible nightmare.
Striding away, smiling contentedly, Miss Bernice made a mental note to see that young Lucy was soundly caned by Madame Vosges for taking part in this conspiracy. She would recommend that, though the girl was in the lower half of the Junior Form, she should get a Number Two cane. And plenty of it. Doubtless the Headmistress would agree.
Need it be said that, for the rest of that night, there was little sleep for Virginia and Melanie?
Chapter Five
The following morning, both Virginia and Melanie awoke with thoughts very akin to those of a murderer who knows he is shortly to be hanged. Lucy was scarcely any happier, having been informed that, later on that morning, she would be taken to Madame Vosges’ Study, there to receive ‘a very sound caning indeed’.
After the usual freezing morning shower, Virginia and Melanie were taken, both stark naked, down into the cellars of the School. There each was locked into a small stone cell with nothing but a hard plank bed to lie on. Hideously prominent, hanging on a wall in each cell, was a replica of the birch that would be used upon them. It was some two and a half feet in length with twelve individual slivers of willow, bound together at one end to form a grip. There was only one important difference between these replicas and the real thing. The willow slivers of the replicas were dry and brittle; those of the real birch would be fresh and supple. Already those birches were lying in tanks of brine water to ensure maximum, biting flexibility.
This was always the procedure when a girl was to be birched. She spent forty eight hours in that cold, miserable cell, on a twice-daily diet of bread and water, so that she could fully contemplate her misdeeds... and the consequences that were to ensue.
Virginia trembled with cold and terror for most of the day. From time to time her eyes would glance up at the birch hanging on the wall. She didn’t want to do that but her eyes were drawn to it. The deadly looking instrument exercised a macabre kind of fascination.
In silence, bread and water was thrust through a flap in the door. It was the only break in the monotony of the day.
In silence, the day passed with slow, dragging feet. Or perhaps it was now night, thought Virginia at one point. She had no means of knowing.
Through a door at the back of the cell, was a tiny lavatory. Here, frequently, Virginia would cool her throbbing head with water from the tap. Also, her buttocks, which were still quite sore from the strappings she had received from Miss Magda the previous day.
Poor Melanie is suffering just as I am, she thought. It was cold comfort.
At some point, Virginia lay down on the plank bed and tried to sleep but it was so hard and uncomfortable, sleep would not come. Quite frequently, Virginia would start sobbing... or break into a flood of tears.
Being confined to that cell was a cruel torture in itself.
As it was meant to be.
It was a procedure devised by Madame Vosges herself. To ensure that a girl suffered to the maximum. And not only from the birching itself.
***
After what, to both of them, seemed like a week rather than forty eight hours, Virginia and Melanie were taken from their cells. Both were trembling incessantly from cold and fear, aware the dreaded moment was at hand.
Two burly Housekeepers escorted the girls up the cellar steps and into the School. How warm it felt after the chill of those dreadful cells! Both felt sickness in the stomach and each heart was hammering.
Along a corridor they went towards the Assembly Hall. Here the whole School had already been gathered for some half an hour, looking at a sight which filled everyone with the utmost dread. Lucy, the conspirator, had a place in the front row. She was crying softly, aware that it was through her failings that Virginia and Melanie were going to be made to suffer cruelly. And herself of course.
Up on a kind of theatre stage was the place where the birchings would be carried out. There were two Birching Blocks for the punishments were to be carried out simultaneously. These Blocks were set opposite each other on either side of a revolving stage. When the girls had been secured, the stage would start to turn ensuring that all the pupils could witness every facet of the punishment. Not only the lacerated buttocks and thighs but also the features contorted in agony. Miss Magda and Miss Bernice would stand on the revolving stage in order to administer the birchings. In the centre of the stage stood a trough of water containing numerous birches. Up high on the back of the stage stood a solid straight-backed chair. Here Madame Vosges would sit to witness that ‘justice was done’.
Utter silence reigned until, suddenly, Virginia and Melanie were escorted in. A ripple seemed to pass over the watchers and a brief sighing sound of despair rose up at the sight of the two, trembling naked creatures. At that moment, every girl in that Hall SWORE to herself she would never indulge in lesbian practices. Or some, never again.
Miss Magda and Miss Bernice entered a few moments later. White-bloused, black-skirted, each wearing calf-length boots. Each of them had a look of contentment on her features, indicating that she was about to thoroughly enjoy herself. Birchings were rare and to be made the most of.
Virginia and Melanie were taken up on the revolving stage, both glancing fearfully at the waiting Birching Blocks. These were made of brown leather, humped at one end and with a pillory device for securement of neck and wrists at the other.
Madame Vosges entered from behind the stage, gowned as ever, in black taffeta, its loud rustlings were the only sounds in the Hall... apart from those from Virginia and Melanie, who had both begun to sob. She seated herself and her waxen angular features gazed steadily straight ahead.
“Secure them over the Blocks, please, Housekeepers,” ordered Madame Vosges.
Each girl was bundled towards a Block, now too weak with terror to make any resistance. Whilst one Housekeeper raised the top of the pillory device, the other placed the girl’s neck and wrists into the waiting semi-circles. The top came down again and was locked. They were helpless and began to sob more loudly. But it was not enough.
“Splay and then pinion the thighs,” ordered Madame Vosges.
This was now done by the Housekeepers, both Virginia and Melanie having her thighs pulled wide apart and fastened with straps on the end of the Block. Each girl’s hindquarters thrust up high by reason of the leather hump.
Madame Vosges pulled a small lever at the side of her chair and the stage began slowly to revolve. Miss Magda and Miss Bernice now mounted the stage and the Housekeepers left it. As the stage turned, each aspect of each girl was seen in turn by the petrified watching pupils. First the face, shocked with terror, eyes red-rimmed, cheeks pale and tear-stained, mouth wobbling out of control. Then a sideways view, breasts just visible pendulous beneath the torso, the shapely dipping back, the sharply upthrusting hindquarters, the smooth white flanks. Finally the hindquarters themselves, buttocks projecting taut-skinned, thighs splayed obscenely wide. In silence the stage turned several times... in silence that is apart from the sobs and moans of the two distraught girls. Then Madame Vosges spoke.
“You are about to witness these two pupils being birched,” she said. “Their names are Virginia and Melanie, both in the upper half of the Senior Form. That makes their crime all the more heinous, for senior girls should be setting an example. I use the word crime for it well de
scribes the monstrous act of perversion these two committed together. They probably have done so many times. They were discovered in bed together performing the obscene act of lesbianism. They had been warned of the penalty for such an act but they chose to ignore it. They are now going to suffer for that.” Madame Vosges paused. “Let me make it quite clear that if any of you commit such an act, you will be made to suffer similarly. Miss Magda... Miss Bernice... kindly administer twenty four strokes of the birch upon the buttocks of these disgusting, evil creatures. Administer them as I instruct.”
At this point, the two Form Mistresses each withdrew a birch from the tank in the centre of the stage. Unlike the birches in the cell, the individual slivers of these were green, gleaming wet from the brine water in which they had been soaked. Each sliver had been carefully selected, being thicker at the handle end to slim whippiness at the tip. The birches were slashed through the air several times and water sprayed over the stage. Eyes bulged with intensified terror at the dreaded sound. It could be noted that, as the individual slivers flew through the air, they splayed out wide. Thus each sliver would bite individually and simultaneously, and virtually the whole area of the buttock flesh would be covered by each stroke.
“Commence by laying on six strokes on the fullness of the buttocks,” said Madame Vosges, “three from the left hand side, three from the right.”
The two Form Mistresses inclined their heads in acknowledgement. Miss Magda was going to deal with Virginia, Miss Bernice with Melanie.
Melanie, the younger, was suddenly heard to cry out in a pitiful, pleading voice. “Have... m-mercy... for God’s sake have mercy... we... we meant no h-harm!” This plea, it need hardly be said, was met with stony indifference. Lucy could be heard sobbing again. There was a few moments’ pause. The flesh of the buttocks and thighs of each girl could be seen quivering incessantly with dread. Then, as the stage turned, bringing Virginia’s hindquarters squarely facing the tense row of watching pupils, the first strokes fell. Melanie got hers on the diametrically opposite side of the circular stage.
Gasping shrieks of torment rose up, seeming to bounce off the walls of the Hall. As the stage continued to turn slowly, the whole of Virginia’s bottom could be seen to be covered in thin red weals. Then Melanie’s contorted features could be seen as she absorbed to the full the awful pain of that very first stroke. Then Melanie’s hindquarters came square to the watchers and Miss Bernice, standing alongside her ready, laid on the second stroke.
Sssssswwwwwweeeeee... SSSLLLLAAASSSHHHH!
“Yyyaaaiiieee... aaiiieeee... aiiieee!” The girls’ simultaneous shrieks filled the Hall, chilling the blood of every pupil.
Turning... turning... so slowly... so inevitably. Twenty four long, slim weals already over each girl’s bottom. And it was just beginning.
Virginia’s hindquarters came round again to her reluctant watchers.
Sssssswwwweeeeee... SSSLLLAAASSSHHHH!
She got her third stroke. Since Miss Magda was laying on from the left, it was Virginia’s right flank that was feeling the agonising bite of the multiple twigs. She screeched like a banshee, as did Melanie.
For Virginia, the pain was already becoming unbearable. She had never before endured such awful torment... no... not even over Madame Vosges’ desk. She knew she was not going to survive this awful ordeal. Indeed, she felt she would be happy to die at that moment. Whatever pleasure she and Melanie had had, surely it was not worth this unbelievable pain?
Both Form Mistresses stepped across to the opposite side of their victims. Now it would be the left flank which endured the curling bite of the thin so-whippy twigs.
Melanie’s bottom came fully into view again.
Sssswwweeeeeeeeee... SSSLLLAAASSSHHHH!
“Aaiiieeee... AAAGHHH... AGGGHHHHH... MERCEEE... MERCEEE!” came the agonised cries. The stage kept turning, until Virginia was presented again.
Sssssswwwweeeeee... SSSLLLAAASSSHHHH!
“Y-Y-YAAAAGHHHHH... AAAGHHH... NOOO... NO... OOOO... M-MORE!”
Turning... turning... as relentless as doom. Through her torrenting tears, Virginia caught occasional glimpses of Melanie’s contorted features. How could so pretty a girl look so ugly? Virginia felt no sympathy, no love. Her mind was totally occupied with her own torments.
Melanie’s hindquarters came into position yet again... and she got her sixth stroke.
Sssswwweeee... SSSLLLLAAASSSHHHH!
“YEEEEEGHHH... AAAIIIIEEEEEEE... NNNNOOOOO... OOOOOOOO!”
The watchers now saw that both of Melanie’s flanks were multi-striped... the weals long, over and down the flanks, seeming most vivid of all. Also they saw that there was scarcely a streak of white to be seen over the buttock cheeks.
Both girls were - literally - being flayed.
The Form Mistresses stepped back, but the stage continued to circle, displaying each girl’s awful torment in turn. Great heaving sobs and moans came from them both. Was it, perhaps, after all, over both asked themselves? Perhaps the awardings of twenty four strokes had been to scare them. Yes... that must be it. No one could endure eighteen more strokes like the six they had already received.
Three circuits were made without a stroke falling. Then Madame Vosges spoke again. Her words dashed any faint, desperate hope that it was all over.
“Six across the tops of the thighs,” she said. “Three on each thigh.” Cries and pleas rose up instantly.
“AAAAAHHHH... N-N-NAAAHHHH... NOOOOOOOO... MMMORE... NOOO... NOOOOO!”
“H-H-HAVE MERCEEEEEEE... FOR GOD’S SAKE... NOOOOO ...OOOOOOOO!”
Impassively Miss Magda and Miss Bernice took up their positions. Twigs brushed the area to be flogged. Then up went the birches to come sweeping down simultaneously. The supple twigs bit into the uppermost nine or ten inches of each thigh... an exceedingly tender area.
That this was so was evident by the ear-splitting screams which ensued. And when the twigs bit into precisely the same area for a second time, those screams were even more ear-splitting.
Then again. For a third time.
“YYYYYAAAAGHHHHHHHH... YYYYYAAAAGHHHHHHHH!”
“YYYYAAAIIIIIEEEE... EEEEEE... EEEEEEGGGHHH!”
It could be seen that, in several places, the tender flesh had broken. Soon it would be seeping.
Each of the Form Mistresses now changed sides... and a similar assault was made on the opposite thigh top. The awful breathless-gasping screams continued to ring out incessantly, filling the Hall with piteous sound. Such was the strain on the vocal chords that they were beginning to crack.
The final stroke of the first twelve lashed down. The watchers saw that the weals now covered the hindquarters from the tops of the buttocks to almost twelve inches down the thighs. There was just some whiteness in the widened cleft. The features of the two victims, sticking through the pillory hole, were virtually unrecognisable, such was their agonising torment.
Madame Vosges summoned up two of the Housekeepers. They mounted the stage, each bearing a bottle of smelling salts. Though Madame Vosges used joss-sticks in her Study, for some reason smelling salts were always used on such occasions. It was necessary to check any girl from slipping into even temporary oblivion through extremes of torment. They must be made to feel everything to the full, from first to last.
Virginia and Melanie were heard choking and snorting and retching as the acrid fumes entered their nostrils. Those salts certainly cleared the head and held back any slide towards fainting. After about half a minute, the Housekeepers left the stage again... the stage which continued to turn slowly round and round.
Madame Vosges sat immobile, waxen features deathly white, dark eyes glittering as hard as black diamonds. “Take your stations, please,” she said.
Miss Magda moved to Melanie, Miss Bernice to Virginia. It was possible that one Form Mistress flogged harder than
the other... so that would be shared too.
“Change the birches,” ordered Madame Vosges.
This was rather unnecessary, but it was traditional. It was, of course, just possible that, under the furious assaults, one or two twig tips might have split or broken away. That would not do. Every twig on every stroke must be felt to the full.
Once more the water sprayed over the stage as they were slashed through the air. Once more Virginia and Melanie began begging and beseeching.
“I... aaahhh... I’d rather die ...” Melanie was moaning.
“Ooohhhh... let me d-die too... ooooggghhhh... no... m-more!” whimpered Virginia.
No comment was made concerning these requests!
“Return to the fulness of the buttocks,” instructed Madame Vosges. “Six strokes... three from each side.”
The two Form Mistresses took up their new positions and the mercilessly savage flogging was resumed.
Both voices soon cracked under the straining screams. The shrieks were truncated, converting to a retching-rattling in the throat. And now the skin of the buttocks began to thoroughly flay off. It broke in many places... it seeped... the blood began to run in trickles. Sobbing, many pupils buried their faces in their hands.
“All pupils will watch the flogging... all the time,” called out Madame Vosges sharply. At once, the stage had everyone’s full attention again.
After six strokes on flesh already flayed, the buttocks began to look like raw steak... and both Virginia and Melanie were once more edged to the borders of insensibility. Yet there were six strokes still to come... and they were going to be the cruellest strokes of all... considered most deserved in view of the sexual nature of the offences.
Once more the Housekeepers were summoned with their smelling salts. Once more Virginia and Melanie choked back to hideous existence. “Remain,” ordered Madame Vosges to the two bulky women. The Housekeepers stood back with their bottles at the ready. It was very likely they would be called on again when the girls reached new, as yet uncharted, territories of torment.