Cordelia Lavington Chapter 43

By Governess

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.
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Cordelia Lavington Chapter 43

By Governess

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As soon as breakfast was finished, Cordelia left the children to clear up and went to her study. She thought it prudent to write a short note to Howard Greaves explaining that William had been punished severely and might find it difficult to settle to his lessons. She picked up her pen.

Dear Howard,

Thank you for your note about William. It was much appreciated. I am pleased you have accepted the boy needs firm discipline. You may be amused to learn that he tried to argue when he arrived home that his caning in class was a reason to be spared further punishment by me. However, it was clear from his bottom that you had treated him with a leniency that I doubt he deserved. Anyway, he was soundly spanked last evening and also caned. I am sure he will find sitting on a hard school bench uncomfortable and it would not be surprising if his attention is focussed more on his bottom than on his school work. In view of this very severe punishment, perhaps the cane should be spared for today. If there is any misbehaviour that warrants a caning, please let me know and I will deal with it. I trust this is acceptable to you.

Many thanks,

Cordelia

She tucked the letter into an envelope and with a generous lick sealed it up. She had decided not to mention denying the boy access to the lavatory, for she was now wondering whether Mr Greaves would be entirely happy with the use of a chamber pot in the classroom. In any event it was probably right to wait until she’d decided how to deal with his further petulant outburst in the face of punishment. She would say nothing to William, letting him torment himself in wondering whether she had forgotten, and fearing to ask lest he remind her.

When they set out for the main reformatory building, she let Samuel and Elizabeth walk on ahead while she followed more slowly with William holding her hand. He was particularly loving and affectionate that morning as children often are following a severe punishment.

Before he went to his class she gave him the note for Mr Greaves. He looked concerned.

“It’s nothing to worry about, William. What you do have to worry about is paying attention in class and getting a good report to bring home to me at the end of the day. Now off you go.”

She made her way to the infirmary, and checked with Mrs Simmonds whether her dormitory inspection had revealed any evidence of masturbation. But nothing had been found.

Cordelia went into her office and sat at her desk. She had to update the record of boys using the infirmary over the past month, but her thoughts turned back to William. Around the age of seven a boy begins to assert himself in a new way. He becomes more self-aware and assertive, and challenges the authority set over him. Whereas before a sound spanking might have brought him into line, now harsher and more sustained discipline is required. And William had reached that age.

She reached across and took out a sheet of notepaper and wrote a short note to Diana Fairclough.

Dear Diana,

Would it be possible to take coffee with you this morning. I would welcome your advice on a couple of matters that are troubling me.

Cordelia

She handed the note to Susannah and asked her to walk it along and wait for a reply. It was not long before she returned with the message that Matron would be very welcome to take coffee with her whenever it was convenient for her to do so. She herself would be in all morning. So after half-an-hour Cordelia made her way to the Principal’s apartment.

As soon as she arrived, Diana rang for Mary and ordered coffee and biscuits.

“So what are these matters that are troubling you, Cordelia?”

“Well, Diana, the first is William. Up to now he’s been a really biddable child and accepting of punishment. But he’s now started to become uncooperative. Yesterday morning I discovered he’d been neglecting his Bible reading. As that was both deceitful and disobedient I spanked him. But that was only after he’s thrown a real tantrum. So I told him that if he behaved like a two year old he’d be treated like one. And for the next week he would be forbidden the lavatory and have to use a chamber pot instead, both at home and at school. But it wasn’t just neglecting his Bible reading, Diana, but lying about it – twice. And for that he received a double caning of two dozen strokes and a further twelve strokes for rudeness and answering back.”

“So how many strokes was that in all, Cordelia?”

“Thirty six, Diana. He didn’t get them all once. I spanked him as soon as we arrived home and followed that with twelve strokes of the cane, giving him another twelve strokes before bed. And then the balance of twelve strokes was given before breakfast. And that was when, despite a warning, he resisted me again. And I’m still thinking about how to deal with that.”

“My goodness, Cordelia, you certainly went to town! But apart from having to decide how to punish him for his further resistance, what exactly is the problem. I can’t see anything particularly wrong in what you did. Making him revert to the chamber pot like a small child seems perfectly appropriate in the circumstances.”

“Well, some might consider I’d been over severe. At the end I had to sponge his bottom and apply some Zam-Buk where the skin had broken. It’s easy to forget how soft a seven year old’s bottom is.”

“Well, you were certainly severe, but that’s different from being too severe. And as for breaking the skin, I don’t think that’s anything to worry about. The body heals naturally, and if there’s no permanent injury, what harm is done? The idea that you can give an effective spanking without marking a child is preposterous and to make a fuss because a more severe punishment breaks the skin and leaves the boy with blood on his bottom is simply foolish. As you know, my eldest was a rebel from the word go and he was being birched at a younger age than William is now. It was a nursery weight birch but it still left him with a sore bottom and thin seams of blood where the skin had been broken. But I see no reason to be concerned about a little blood shed with the intention of reforming a boy and teaching him to mend his ways. We’re quite happy to accept accidental cuts and grazes from play and those have no value at all.”

“Well it’s not just blood, Diana. I really caned him hard and spared him nothing. I thought about easing up for the last dozen cuts but decided that would make a mockery of the punishment. As the Book of Proverbs says it is the blueness of a wound that cleanses from evil. But his little seven year old bottom is covered in welts and so are his thighs.”

“And I should hope so too, Cordelia. I don’t see any cause to be concerned just because he’s seven. A seven year old is quite old enough to know what he is doing when he opposes his mother’s will, and quite old enough to suffer the consequences. For the next few days he’ll be reminded of the need for obedience every time he sits down; and if you do what I used to do and show him his welted bottom and thighs in the mirror before he dresses in the morning and again in the evening before he puts on his pyjamas that will usefully reinforce the lesson.”

“Thank you, Diana. I’m sorry to be so foolish about it.”

“So is there anything else?”

“Yes. I’ve had second thoughts about the chamber pot and have put that off for the moment until I decide how to deal with his second outburst of rudeness and resistance.”

“But what are your reservations about the chamber pot? It seems to be entirely appropriate.”

“The problem is that the regime needs to be total, and applied both at home and in school. And I suppose I was unsure how Howard Greaves would react to having a chamber pot in his classroom, and whether he would regard it as an unwelcome imposition.”

“He might, Cordelia, but unless you ask him you won’t know.”

“I suppose that’s true, but after I’d sentenced him to the chamber pot, there was that second bout of rebellious behaviour, and I wondered whether something quite different was required.”

“It might be, but reverting him to babyhood for his two year old behaviour does seem appropriate. I’d be inclined to stick with that and perhaps add something else of the same sort.”

“Have you anything in mind?”

“Well, he could be made to wear a little frilly dress. Or be put on a diet of baby food which is fed to him on a spoon. It just requires a bit of imagination, Cordelia. And putting him to bed early wearing a nappy would be a further humiliation.”

Cordelia smiled.

“Or I suppose all three. Well, thank you, Diana. I’ll mull it over and let you know what I decide.”

There was a knock at the door and Mary came in with the coffee.

“Put it there, Mary. And again you’ve taken your time. Do try to be a more speedy in future. We don’t expect to wait until lunch for our coffee.”

She turned to Cordelia as Mary placed the tray on the table.

“After David Cranston was discharged from the infirmary, I sent for him and explained that he was being adopted by James and myself, and from now on would be living with us.”

“And what was his response, Diana?”

Mrs Fairclough looked at Mary who was pouring the coffee.

“What do you think, Mary? Was he pleased?”

“I’m not sure, Ma’am. I think he was a little frightened.”

“And so he should be. For a small boy the fear of discipline is the beginning of wisdom. As the Book of Proverbs says, ‘the rod and reproof give wisdom: but a child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame’. Cranston has a wilful spirit that needs to be subdued. That much is already clear, as Matron well knows. We made a start yesterday but much remains to be done. And when you’ve finished pouring the coffee, Mary, go and get on with the ironing.”

When Mary had departed, Cordelia stretched back in her chair and felt a wonderful relaxation come over her. Diana was such a good friend and a real comfort and support. And she was sure having the boy Cranston in her care would be a blessing to them both. She reached out for a shortbread biscuit.

“Tell me more about Cranston, Diana.”

Well, I took him out of school yesterday and settled him in. I explained that as he was so much younger than the other boys we were going to provide the warmth and security of a real home for him with all the love and discipline that a small boy needs. We had a little conversation.

When I say discipline, David, you do know what I mean don’t you?

I . . . I think so, Ma’am.

So what is discipline, David? It’s something all small boys need.

Is it . . . is it teaching a boy not to be . . . be naughty?

Yes David it is. Teaching a boy not to be naughty but to be obedient and to do as he’s told. And how do you think that is best done?

He hesitated.

By . . . by telling him what to do . . Ma’am?

Yes, David. A boy like you needs to be told what to do. He needs to be given clear rules to govern his behaviour. And in a minute that’s what I’m going to give you. But small boys don’t always do as they’re told, do they? In my experience, they’re not very good at keeping rules. So what needs to be done if a boy doesn’t keep a rule and is disobedient?

He hung his head and reddened.

I . . . I suppose he needs to be . . . punished.

Yes, David. A disobedient boy, who breaks a rule he’s been given, certainly needs to be punished. And how do you think that is best done?

He frowned.

He might be stood in the corner?

Well, I’ve certainly stood many a boy in the corner, David, but only after something else has happened first. And what do you think that is?

Again he hung his head, and his hands twisting nervously at his sides.

Come along, David. It’s not difficult.

There was a long pause.

I don’t think I know, Ma’am.

Oh, I’m sure you do, David. Would you like me to show you? Show you what happens to a disobedient boy before he’s stood in disgrace in the corner?

He looked down, saying nothing. And I went to the sideboard drawer and took out the hairbrush. I held it out.

Do you remember this, David. Remember it’s hard ebony back. I can scarcely believe you’ve forgotten. But clearly you need to be reminded.

There was a stubborn look on his face and those violet eyes of his were hard and defiant. I sat on an upright chair and beckoned to him. He stood in front of me.

The word we were looking for a moment ago, David, is ‘spanked’. It’s what happened to you yesterday but as you’ve forgotten you need to be reminded.

I stood up

Slip off your braces and drop your trousers. And step out of them and hand them to me.

I placed them over the back of the armchair. Slowly he was stripped of his clothes until he was standing in his short reformatory vest that left his bottom completely bare. I sat down again and pointed to the floor in front of me.

Stand here, David.

I could see from his expression that he wanted to resist me but was too frightened to do so. As well he might be. I reached around and gave a stinging slap to his bottom.

So tell me David, why have you had all our clothes removed apart from your vest.

And I gave him a further resounding smack.

Well?

His face crumpled up and he was crying.

Then I’ll tell you, David. It’s because I see no sense in spanking a boy on anything but his bare bottom. I want him turned over my knee with his naked little rump uppermost so he can receive smack after stinging smack from the hard back of my hairbrush. Not even the thinnest pair of pyjama trousers is allowed to come between a boy’s bottom and my brush. I want to hear his screams and see him helplessly squirming with a red and smarting bottom. A bottom that feels as though it’s been stung by an swarm of angry bees. Then and only then is he stood in the corner.

I tilted back his head.

And why does he go in the corner, David?

He was speechless and whimpering in fear.

Then, I’ll tell you. He goes to display his well-whipped bottom so all who see it will know he’s been a naughty disobedient boy. He’s there to stand in shame, as an outcast, a small boy suffering for his sin until he repents and is forgiven.

I removed my hand from beneath his chin.

And when I consider he’s been standing long enough in disgrace, I place him in front of me. And I look into his eyes and if I see the slightest hint of a rebellious spirit, then he’s back across my knee for a further spanking on an already smarting bottom.

He was still tearful as I reached out for his hand and drew him towards me and then hauled him across my knee. I felt him tremble as I rucked up his vest. And his bottom clenched as I rested the cold smooth back of the hairbrush against the crown of his left buttock.

Well David it’s one thing to describe how a boy is spanked but quite another to learn by being spanked yourself. And that’s the best way of learning about anything, David Not just to be told about it but to experience it for yourself.

And I gave him a firm smack.

But you should already know what this brush can do to a boy’s bottom, David. Didn’t I spank you with it yesterday? Or is my memory at fault? But whether I did or didn’t, you seem to have forgotten.

I gave another smack to his firm little upturned rump.

But there’s no cause for concern I’ve explained to you how I spank a boy, and now I’m going to show you. And that will help you to remember in future.

I paused before giving him yet another smack.

And by remembering what a spanking is like, and how much it hurts, you will hopefully try and avoid another one in future. And the way to do that is to be a good and obedient boy. Now stop wriggling and lie quietly for a moment. And there’s no need to hold your breath like that.

I waited letting him anticipate what was to come. And then I raised the brush. And did I spank him, Cordelia! I took my time, relishing each stroke and savouring his distress. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed disciplining him. There’s something about spanking a small boy that is utterly delicious. The firm round little bottom; the shameful exposure over the knee; the smacking sound of the brush on soft spankable flesh, and after each smack the wriggling screams of protest. And, Cordelia, I confess that before I’d finished, I was looking forward to the next time.”

“And did you stand him in the corner?”

“Of course. His tear-stained face and small heaving body were turned nose to the wall. And to compound his shame I rang for Mary.

Mary, I’d like you to clean the silver this afternoon. Young David can help you. As you can see, I’ve had to spank him rather severely. So he’ll find sitting on a bench in the scullery rather uncomfortable. Just see he doesn’t wriggle around too much and keep him hard at work.

I stepped over to where he was standing nose to the wall.

And if you give Mary any trouble, any trouble at all, then I promise you’ll find sitting on a bench becomes even more uncomfortable.”

“And did he give further trouble, Diana?”

“No. But I’ve no doubt he’s a boy who’s going to need regular chastisement.”

“And he was in the corner for how long, Diana?”

“An hour. I made him press a penny against the wall with his nose and told him if he dropped it he would get a smack on the back of his thigh. And then you’ll be holding a three penny bit to the wall and if that drops, it will be three smacks.”

And did the penny drop?”

She smiled.

“Of course, Cordelia. Holding a coin against the wall with your nose for an extended period isn’t that easy. By the end of the hour, we’d progressed from a penny to a three penny bit and then to a sixpence and finally a shilling.”

“And did the shilling drop?”

“Just before the hour was up.”

“And that was twelve smacks?”

“Yes. Hard smacks to the backs of his thighs. After the ten he’s earned for the penny, three penny bit and sixpence.”

“I must say, Diana, that’s an excellent way of helping a boy to concentrate in the corner. I think I’ll be adopting that for my two, and probably Elizabeth, too.”

“Yes, it works well. It’s unusual to have to go beyond a shilling but there’ve been times when I’ve had a child with a florin between his nose and the wall desperate to avoid the twenty four smacks should it roll on the floor.”

She took a sip of coffee and reached out for a biscuit.

“But Cordelia, I’m seriously thinking of teaching David here, rather than in school. He’s so much younger than the other boys. I’m sure Mary can help me. After all he’s only seven.”

“Yes, I’m sure she could. And I shouldn’t be surprised if she’s be happy to discipline him over her knee if you allowed it. But tell me Diana did you give Cranston those rules you were speaking of.”

“I certainly did. I made him write them out neatly, twice. One for the kitchen and one for his bedroom.”

She slipped out of the room for a moment and returned with a sheet of paper in her hand.

“They are short and to the point. I hope you approve.

RULES FOR DAVID CRANSTON

(1) Obey instantly when given an instruction

(2) Be polite at all times

(3) Do not pout or make disrespectful faces

(4) Do not speak rudely or disrespectfully

(5) Tell the truth at all times

Breaking any of these rules will result in punishment

Cordelia read them through, nodding.

“Yes, those are excellent. Wonderfully comprehensive. It’s difficult to think of much naughtiness that will not be caught by those. And punished.”

She glanced at the clock.

“Goodness how time flies. I really must be going. And thank you once more for all your help and support, Diana. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your friendship.”

“And I yours, Cordelia.”

(to be continued)

(The End)