Ruled by the Rod by Sara Rawlings Read Free Book Online

with the infliction of a dozen strokes of the
cane, the normal sum for these occasions, plus any extras due for
specific transgressions.'
    'Oh, yes, this
buttock could sustain many times that number without other than
superficial, or at least only subcutaneous, injury. No damage to
bone or tendon, I assure you.'
    'Good. I see
from my book that she is not in fact due any extra on this
occasion,' my spirits rose, prematurely as it happened, 'but there
is the little matter of her objection to your presence on entering
the room. Three extra would appear consistent with justice and
proper discipline and, as the offence was in some sense against
yourself, I suggest it would be appropriate if you were to deliver
the strokes yourself.'
    'I shall be
glad to assist you in the matter,' came the reply. 'And it will
also give me an opportunity to test the elasticity of the buttock
under the rod, at first hand.'
    'Let us
proceed then,' said papa. 'Annabel, my child, do lower your head to
the cushion, and thrust out your haunches. You know well how to
hold your buttocks for the cane. Let me see you hold them so for
the benefit of the good doctor, and for the better correction of
your sinful nature.'
    Ever obedient
to my papa, I lowered my head to the cushion, a task made more
uncomfortable now with the advent of our stiff high collars, and
clasped the chair back in my arms. Biting my lip in concentration I
willed my buttocks to relax, feeling the cleft behind spread itself
like an opening flower, revealing my anus and the gaping vulva
below. I would not fail papa. This visitor, apparently of such
consequence, should see me offer myself wholly for the coming
correction, though inwardly I quaked and my stomach filled with
nauseous fear.
     
     

Chapter
3
Church,
Medicine & the Law
     
    I had never
been corrected in the presence of anyone other than papa, let alone
a member of the male sex and, though it caused me some shame to be
seen thus, naked, my bare buttocks spread, revealing my most
intimate female parts, it also roused me to steel myself, and offer
my body to the rod without reservation, inviting the utmost of each
stroke and honouring my parent, by demonstrating that his care of
us had not been without fruit and, though still mere women, we had
at least learnt the virtues of obedience and fortitude.
    Although it
was an ordeal to which I had many times been subjected, a flogging
of a dozen strokes with that penal rod was still something of
dread, and I could look forward to three more besides from the
doctor, whose athletic build and wiry wrists gave promise of cuts
at least as searching as those that papa was about to unleash on my
unprotected buttocks. I closed my eyes, bit my lip, and set myself
not only to endure, but to endure with honour.
    As the first
cut sank into my flesh I bit down on my lip so hard that I could
taste blood, but I held my pose and made no more noise than a grunt
buried deep in my throat. I knew too well from experience that the
first stroke is always worse than one's worst imaginings, and I was
determined not to be caught out and lose the battle at the first
engagement. Breathing heavily through my nose, I rode out the
appalling pain in my behind and set myself for the next, with a
little more courage. Though the second was every whit as bad, it
was that little easier to master for having ridden the first. To
have lost there is so discouraging that it saps one's strength. Now
I could give my attention to keeping my flesh open to the
correction, and accepting its formative anguish into my body
without flinching or crying out.
    I could not
hope to wholly succeed, of course. Perhaps Marion could have
endured to the end, but she is braver than I and, moreover, of some
seven years more maturity. But twelve cuts of that awful rod seem,
eventually, to penetrate to one's very soul, each one like a hand
twisting that poor weak female thing until it screams inside one.
As it is, I hope I did not disgrace papa, for I