Chapter 10: Katherine’s Birching Fantasy

I had become negligent in my studies, and my tutor Agnes and my governess Lucille were angry with me. I was eighteen years old, and in that spring of 1902, I was nearing my high school graduation. Except, I had a bad case of what is now called “senioritis.” It had become difficult for me to concentrate on my last four courses, especially trigonometry.

Lucille had been with me for four years. She was twenty-seven, a tall woman with dark, almost black hair. I thought she was beautiful. Agnes was forty-one, a short, plump lady with glasses. I had known her for seven years.

I respected both of them, and they had been content with me until the last few months. One evening I was called in to meet them in the parlor and I found both of them just standing there. It was obvious that I should stand too.

Lucille did most of the talking. “Katherine, I know you want to be a good girl, but this year you have been – I’d call it lax, remiss even in your schoolwork. That has to change.”

“I’m sorry Lucille, I will do better. I’ve just been distracted a bit recently.”

“You still need to be disciplined, for two reasons. First, as punishment for what you’ve done wrong so for. And second, to motivate you for an immediate, dramatic improvement in the future.”

I wasn’t sure what she intended to do, and I didn’t want to ask her. But I soon found out what it was going to be. She went behind the sofa and retrieved something that had been hidden from my view. She held it up so that I could examine it.

“I suppose you know what this is?”

“Yes, miss, it’s a bundle of birch rods.”

“Have you ever been whipped by one of these?”

“Not for a while now.”

“That was with a nursery birch; that was nothing. With this, you’re really going to feel it.”

She swished it down so that I could hear the noise it made as it went through the air. “Now, I’m going to vigorously apply this to your bare buttocks. You think that would help you concentrate on your work?”

“I suppose so, miss.”

“You better not just suppose so. You should do it, or I’ll whip you again until you do get it.”

I felt a mélange of emotions all at once. There was a twitching in my behind as I imagined the birch coming down on me. I felt both fear and the thrill of anticipation too. It was as if at the same time I wanted it and didn’t want it to happen. Then there was that familiar tingling in my private lady parts. I knew how to deal with that sensation, and I often did.

Also, I was aware of my feelings for Lucille. It was more than just a girl crush. I believed I loved her, and I lusted for her too. The idea of her finally gazing at my bare flesh, and then beating it, excited me. Of course, I had never told her any of this.

She detailed the next acts for me. “Now, I want you to stand by that chair, and you are going to bend over it, all the way over.” It was a heavy but armless one opposite the sofa. “Then Agnes is going to pull your dress up beyond your waist. She will open up the back of your drawers and pull the two sections apart, thus exposing your bottom. Is that part clear enough?”

“Yes, miss, it certainly is.”

“Agnes will hold you around the torso to keep you in place, but you should also tightly hold onto the chair. Then I will discipline you, quite firmly. Don’t make a huge fuss and try to get up, or I will tie your hands and feet together and put you back over the chair, sideways. You are getting it one way or the other.”

“I understand. If I may ask, how many strokes am I getting?”

“You’re a bit cheeky, aren’t you? Anyway, I don’t know the number yet; I will decide when I see how it is going. Then, afterwards, you may rub your behind to comfort yourself, but do not dare to put your hands back there before that. Then, you will stand over by the wall and hold your dress up for a while so that I may examine my handiwork.”

She gestured with her birch. “Go on, let’s get this done already.”

I went over there, bent over, and gripped the back of the chair. Agnes came next to me and said, “There, you’re going to be a good girl during this, aren’t you?” It seemed like I must be a bad girl if they were doing this to me.

She quickly lifted my medium-blue dress and draped it across my back. Then she undid the back of my drawers and moved the two halves apart.

I could sense Lucille gazing at my backside. Maybe I imagined it, but I thought I felt cool air on my flesh. I knew it would shortly be quite hot back there.

Lucille said, “So, Katherine, are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Still being sassy, I see. Well, I’m going to fix that.”

Agnes had one hand on my back holding my dress in place and the other was under my body to hold me steady. Lucille issued her final orders. “Keep your head down and your bottom up. Put your feet back a bit and spread your legs.”

Without any warning, she swiped the birch rods across my body. I had never been corrected with a “big girl” birch before. The pain was intense, like being stung by a swarm of bees. I yelled something and almost stood up; my hands went behind me. I didn’t seem to have any control over my reactions.

Lucille was almost patient with me. “I told you to stay down. Concentrate on holding the chair; I don’t want to see your hands back there again. Don’t make me tie you up.”

For the second stroke, I was able to hold on but my knees buckled. I made a lot of noise again. She said, “That’s a little better, but not perfect. Try harder; that’s your biggest fault, you don’t try enough.”

Agnes quietly said, “Katherine, please take your spanking like a big girl.”

After that, Lucille began a steady beating of me. It wasn’t too fast, but it was hard. I mostly kept my hold on the chair, but the lower part of my body was moving around with each blow. I’d push forward, and then I wriggled from side to side to avoid that evil birch. At one point, the lower part of my right leg came up and stuck straight out.

“Watch those legs too.” She swatted the back of my calf. It hurt, but the cloth of my stockings gave me a bit of protection. My poor behind had nothing over it. Sometimes I’d get hit on the side of my hips, or on the backs of my thighs, and the cloth of my drawers helped there too.

After about ten of these blows, Lucille stopped to chide me. “Now you’re doing to be much more diligent in your schoolwork, aren’t you?”

I gasped, “Oh yes, miss, I certainly will.”

“Good, or otherwise I’ll have to redden your rear end again.”