Charming Isabella (16 page)

Edward nodded his head, even as he watched his girls begin to visibly tremble, their eyes remaining locked on the cane as it moved in the air, much as a trapped rabbit would eye the weaving head of a viper.  Edward knew the bite of the cane on an unprotected bottom would feel as sharp and painful as a snake’s bite.  Thorne acknowledged Edward’s agreement by saying, “Thank you Sir.”  Then addressing the two women, he said, “I believe you were told to prepare yourselves.  Do so immediately, or do I need to call for Mrs. Francis to assist you?” 

The women shook their heads vigorously, not wanting even more witnesses to their horrid situation, finally surrendering to the obvious.  Small shaking hands reached under long grey uniform skirts as fingers fumbled for ribbon ties.  Soon, two white puddles surrounded the women’s black boots as their drawers were unfastened and allowed to fall to the floor.  The girl’s faces burned brightly with the shame of the act. 

Thorne nodded.  “Face the settee, raise your skirts well up to bare your bottoms, bend over and place your hands on the seat.”  With soft sobs beginning to come from the two, both women slowly obeyed the dreadful order.  As heavy skirts were pulled upward to expose creamy white thighs above black stockings, Edward found himself holding his breath.  Time seemed to slow, as fabric inched ever upwards until rounded bare buttocks were finally exposed.  Edward released his breath and smiled, once more amazed to discover that their similarity extended to their petite bottoms.  If he had just walked into the room and wasn’t aware of which side of the settee his wife occupied, he would be unable to ascertain which beautiful posterior belonged to whom.  Unaware of his thoughts and unable to see his look of wonder, the women properly positioned themselves. Once again, as though without thought, their hands joined, as they tried to give each other support. 

“You shall have a dozen each unless, of course, you foolishly break position.”  Sobs sounded as the sentence was spoken and further shame colored their faces as the headmaster gave them further instruction.  “Ladies, you are not strangers to the proper position for a well-deserved caning.  I want you to show your admittance of guilt by willingly lifting your bottoms well up for the cane.”  Lucy broke down first, her sobs choking her throat as her tears streamed down her face at both the intense shame of her position, and her desperate fear of the coming pain.  Louisa squeezed her sister’s fingers even as she, too, tried to brace herself.  Enjoying Lucille’s obvious fear, Thorne made his choice; it would be far more effective if Lucille had to listen to her sister receiving her strokes and be made to consider her own punishment for the longest time possible.  The headmaster stepped to Louisa’s left and lifted the cane.  Edward was well pleased to see his small wife take a deep breath to both calm and prepare herself.  He watched as she arched her back and pushed her unmarked, pale bottom high into the air, signaling her readiness for the first awful stroke.  Edward wondered if she was even aware of how far she had come under his tutelage since their wedding.  She further pleased him when she spoke quietly but clearly,

“Forgive me for my disobedience, Sir.  I admit my guilt and I am ready to submit to my punishment.”  If the headmaster was surprised at her formal words, he contained it fairly well.  He glanced from her bare bottom to Lord
Wintercrest.  Edward didn’t smile or speak; only gave the headmaster a slight nod.  Thorne smiled; the young woman had obviously continued her education under her husband’s rule.  Thorne gave a moment’s wish that every young miscreant who appeared in his office was as contrite and ready to pay for their offense, as was Lady Wintercrest, as she bent over before him.  He also didn’t prolong her wait.  He measured the distance by tapping her upturned bottom twice before drawing back his arm.  The length of bamboo whistled through the air and landed with a sharp crack against her beautifully rounded rump.  Louisa yelped but didn’t move out of position even as the second stroke landed an inch below the first.  Lucy flinched each time the cane cut into her sister’s bottom, the sound sharp and crisp in the room.  It wasn’t until the sixth stroke had painted its line of fire across Louisa’s bottom that she began to beg.

“Please… oh, no… please Sir!”  Her bottom began to twist and bob as she tried to avoid the cane.  Her tears had begun, though she had promised herself that she would take the punishment in silence. 

“Back into position and present your bottom properly, Louisa.” She sobbed harder, realizing that it was her own husband giving her the awful order.  Just the sound of his quiet authority caused her body to respond, and she felt her shame grow.  “Be still, and lift that naughty bottom high, or would you prefer I ask Headmaster Thorne to begin anew?”  She sobbed, knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to make good his threat.  She had learned the hard way that Edward never hesitated to enforce any discipline he deemed necessary.  She also knew   she was expected, no required, to verbally answer any question her husband asked or face additional correction for disrespect. 

She barely managed to choke out a subdued reply, “N… no, please Sir.  I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Then obey me and lift and relax your bottom to accept your strokes and be grateful for the lesson.  Apologize and ask Headmaster Thorne for an extra to remind you to stay in position!”

She lifted her aching bottom higher, her shame at her position intensifying as she forced herself to round and relax her burning buttocks.  She wasn’t aware that she was practically crushing her sister’s fingers.  Lucille had her eyes shut tightly, her tears continuing to flow as she listened to her sister’s moans and cries.  Her heart was pounding with her fear with every passing moment. 

She shuddered as Louisa sobbed, “I’m s… sorry Headmaster.  Please may… may I have an ex… extra stroke?” 

“Certainly, Lady
Wintercrest,” Thorne answered, his arm already lifting.  The caning continued, and the moans turned into deep sobs, as line after line appeared across the previously porcelain skin of her uplifted bottom.  Once a dozen individual wheals were raised in remarkably evenly spaced lines, he said, “This last shall be the hardest, Lady Wintercrest.  Although you are no longer truly a student in my school, consider this as a necessary reminder to teach you to obey the authority of your husband.”  With that warning, he stepped back a bit, lifted his arm and gave her the hardest stroke of all. 

Louisa lost her breath for an instant and then broke and screamed as the last, extra stroke crossed diagonally across the previous twelve.  Her knees buckled and she almost fell to the floor.  Fearing additional strokes, she forced herself to return to position, lifting her well-thrashed bottom as high as she could.  Each wheal felt like it was burning ever deeper into her skin.  She heard movement behind her and realized that the headmaster had moved to stand beside Lucy.  Louisa ached for her sister, knowing that she had not been put under any punishment in a great while, and was not in the least prepared for the pain that she was about to face. 

Thorne rolled the cane across the pale skin of Lucille’s bottom.  He eyed his handiwork painted across her twin’s bottom, and smiled.  He was extremely proud of his ability to discipline a young woman properly; no overlapping of wheals occurred when he gave a caning – not counting the darker diagonal line she had earned as her extra.  He felt Lucille cringe away from the touch of the cane and he said,

“You would learn a good lesson, Miss
Furniss, from your sister.  She admitted her crime and gracefully accepted the need for a good chastisement.  Surely you can do the same?”  Lucille couldn’t force herself to speak; her throat was tight with fear, and she was simply unable to speak.  Thorne sighed deeply and looked up to see Lord Wintercrest watching him.  He smiled and spoke softly,

“I am afraid that Lucille hasn’t had the benefit of additional education in the area of discipline, Sir.  I suppose the girls’ father didn’t see the need to teach them the proper attitude when he felt the need to give them a correction.  Perhaps if he had taken the necessary time to properly drive the lesson home, then I suppose the two would not even now be bent over, bottoms raised for a lesson in obedience.  Please, forgive Lucille for her ignorance and give her a reason to reflect on her childish behavior.” 

Headmaster Thorne’s smile grew as he nodded; the cane finally stopped its rolling on the cringing upturned bottom as he lifted it high into the air.  Lucy opened her mouth to beg for mercy and Louisa said a quick prayer and continued to sob herself, as no mercy was given, and the first stroke was applied to her sister’s upturned bottom. 

Lucy screamed from the very first stroke.  Her hand now crushed her sister’s as she fought to hold position.  The second stroke landed and Lucy knew she would die before the punishment was completed. 
She had only been caned once before by her father and the count had been a half dozen.  While she had experienced a switching or two during her tenure at the school, this implement was surely one belonging to the Devil.  Never had she felt anything as horrid as each cutting stroke.  She feared with all her heart that she would soon experience twice over what she had ever taken before. 

She screamed at the third and begged, “Please, oh… oh please Sir… please, no more.  Please!”  Thorne ignored her pleas.  He was well accustomed to many a young woman’s begging for mercy as he delivered a punishment.  He took his job seriously and had become a master of the cane.  His strokes always landed exactly where he had decided to place them.  He did not believe in mercy.  One did not go under the cane without just cause and, when one had a bottom lifted for that implement, then one deserved to experience it at its harshest.  Lucy was unaware that her bottom was wagging up and down, swinging from side to side, as she fought to cool the fire. 

Edward grinned at her antics.  Once again he was amazed at exactly how identical the two were; their little dance to unsuccessfully avoid their due and even their cries sounded the same.  Lucy finally collapsed on the settee, her hand pulling free of her sister’s as she sank to the floor.  She cupped the punished skin of her bottom as she continued to beg for mercy.

“I’m sorry, please, I…
I can’t take another… please Sir… please, I’m begging you.  You’ll skin me alive!”  Thorne reached down and hauled her up by her arm.  Lucy tried to pull away even though her sister was again reaching for her hand.

“Nonsense!  You still have four strokes to go, and now I fear you have earned extra, Miss
Furniss.  You are behaving as a child.  Return to your position immediately or I shall have to call for help in restraining you.” 

Lucy struggled to compose herself as much as possible.  It was horrid enough being caned, and seen half-undressed by this man.  Knowing that her brother-in-law was also witnessing her chastisement as well as her state of undress was causing her great shame.  She sobbed, but the threat of additional witnesses worked as she climbed to her feet and was soon back in the familiar position of miscreant, waiting to receive the cane.  She heard her sister whisper for her to be brave and Lucy wished she could emulate Louisa’s acceptance of the horrid discipline.  She couldn’t find the strength or bravery and instead buried her face in her hands, and her cries were still echoing around the room as Thorne finished her dozen. 

“Bottom well up please,” Thorne ordered as he swished the cane several times in the air.  He waited for a few moments and was just about to inform the naughty woman that she would indeed receive additional strokes, when he saw the very welted bottom slowly being lifted.  Lucy sobbed into the scratchy fabric of the settee, trying to bring her bottom into position.  She heard the cane swish once more through the air, and then her head reared back as she screamed out the agony of the extra stroke.  As with her sister, Thorne had placed an additional, extremely hard stroke to cross her bottom on the diagonal.  Apparently believing her behavior warranted even further correction, he walked to her other side and lifted the cane again.  “Again, Miss Furniss.  Lift your bottom and submit to your discipline.”  Edward watched and was pleased as Lucille’s bottom lifted once more.  It was swollen and welted with the dozen strokes but he had to admit it was a beautiful sight.  Thorne tapped the cane across the welted skin and then lifted his arm.   As the stroke landed to cross all previous lines, Lucy collapsed onto her stomach, her hands reaching back to cover and rub at the fire in her throbbing bottom. 

“Lucille
Furniss, get your hands off your bottom!” Edward stated firmly, not believing she had the audacity to try to rub away her punishment.  “Present yourself properly until you are released, or it will be another round of the cane.”  Lucy pulled her hands away from her welted skin only to claw at the fabric of the settee as she pushed herself once more into the time-honored penitent position.  She continued to sob as both men looked at the condition of her bottom.   A large crimson “X” now decorated her rump – the two vivid lines broken only by the cleft of her buttocks.  Every wheal was crimson and raised on both bottoms still being presented by the two women. 

Edward nodded to himself in acknowledgement of Thorne’s expertise, finding that it rivaled even his own.  He listened as both women were instructed to place themselves at the wall, keeping their skirts well raised, their red bottoms displayed.  The women shuffled to the wall, their progress slowed by the puddles of their bloomers trapped around their slim ankles.  Edward grinned at their ungainly pace until they were able to press the tips of their noses against the floral wallpaper.  Their sobs filled the air and their bodies continued to shake and quiver.  Edward gave another small grin as he wondered if he would find his wife in the same condition under this punishment as he always found her under his.  His fingers itched to discover the truth but he controlled his impulse.  Sharing his wife’s bottom with another man after her marriage was one thing; sharing the intimate details of her body’s response was quite another.