Ruled by the Rod (9 page)

Our fetters
replaced, Charlotte's bridle removed, we were dismissed to our
beds, each carrying a pair of handcuffs. Poor Charlotte was in a
sorry state. She had worn her hideous headgear for upwards of two
hours, and her tongue was sore. She had no desire to make
conversation, and communicated her needs as much as possible by
means of signs, and nods of her head.

We tended each
others hurts as best we might, though it goes without saying that
we did not offer each other that comfort and relief that we had
customarily shared. When we had donned our night shifts, we each
retired to our own rooms and took to our beds, where we lay on our
stomachs, as we would have done anyway given the state of our
buttocks, and slipped the cuffs over our wrists, behind our backs,
snapping shut the spring-loaded jaws. Now we could not give in to
the temptation to touch those sweet sensitive buds between our
thighs, but must lie and feel every throb of our stripes and twinge
of our sphincters. It was a restless night for each of us, and we
were almost grateful to see the dawn, and stumble to papa's room to
have our hands released, that we might go to the stable yard and
make our ablutions under the pump.

The bridle
seemed to have a marked effect on Charlotte, and she was by no
means as free with her tongue afterwards, even when no males were
present and her remarks were addressed solely to us, her sisters,
though it was not in her nature to not backslide occasionally.

I understood
her caution better, when I had tasted the device myself. It was in
the nature of things that our guardians would make each of us try
the experience at least once, so that it might be a curb on our
tongues should we be tempted to voice an unwomanly opinion or tone.
In my case, I had merely explained how the wind was blowing from
the east, always a difficulty in the vicarage, when he had
complained that I had made his fire to smoke and sting his eyes.
For this I was sentenced to two hours in the branks, which I
fetched immediately, and he forced the bit into my mouth, latching
the rear of the cage behind my head to secure it. It was a
harrowing experience. The steel plate pressed on my tongue, its
stubby spikes not penetrating that organ, but causing me the
greatest discomfort. My saliva gathered in my mouth, and I could
not dispose of it properly by swallowing, and it dribbled
humiliatingly down my chin. Try as I could, my tongue attempted of
its own accord to shift the fluid to my gullet, and the action soon
made it so sore that I could weep. Moreover, the weight of the cage
rested on my neck, or the top of my head, depending how I held
myself. This was no hardship at first but, as time went by, it
began to feel as if I carried a ton of weight, and my muscles
screamed out for relief which did not come.

By the time I
was released I had made up my mind to say no more than, 'Yes, sir,'
and, 'No, Sir,' in future, when speaking to my parent. At the time
I would have been hard put to it to say even that, so sore and
swollen was my poor tongue.

For purposes
of education, and forewarning, even Marion had to wear the fiendish
device, though one would scarcely credit that she would actually
deserve it, so circumspect was she in her speech, so all of us soon
knew the miseries of sore mouths and swollen tongues.

Nor were these
the only sore and swollen parts of our anatomies. With the
increasing frequency and regularity of our guardian's visits, and
their apparently ever increasing sufferings from the female
contagions that we were called upon to extract from their bodies,
those muscle ringed orifices we gladly lent for the purpose were
often as sore. For in their haste they did not always remember to
lubricate those virile hoses through which they discharged the
pernicious gatherings, and they were often quite rough with us, so
desperate were they to get them out of their systems.

Marion seemed
to fare worst. I think she was built a little smaller there than
Charlotte or myself, and then again, she was perhaps, being older,
not quite as elastic in that part. Be that as it may, for whatever
reason she suffered from the frequent abrasion. When the gentlemen
made to use her the discomfort caused her to whimper and twist her
body, despite her best resolve to do her duty. This was a moment
when we realised how blessed we were to have the services of the
good doctor.

Marion was
made to assume the usual position on the chair, as if to receive a
flogging, but it was for inspection, not correction. The bent and
spread position presented her anus admirably, and the doctor gave
it his close attention, investigating with both finger and
eyeglass. At length he came to a decision.

'It is as I
thought,' he declared, 'acute haemorrhoids. They will need to be
lanced and sealed. I would suggest that we do not delay more than
we have to. The sooner done the sooner mended, and her sphincter
ready for use again.' He turned to his fellow guardians. 'Luckily I
have bistoury and cautery in my bag. While we send for the
instruments, perhaps you would help me secure the patient for the
operation.'

There being no
servants in the house of an evening, Charlotte was despatched to
the stables to fetch the doctor's black bag from his trap.
Meanwhile I was required to find straps, and strips of linen, to
secure Marion to the chair. She was kept in her kneeling position,
her thighs widely spread and her head down on the cushion. Her
calves were bound tight to the chair arms, from behind her knee
down to her ankle, making it impossible for her to twist her thighs
or move her knees one inch on the armrests.

Then a long
strap was passed over her back, under the armrests on either side,
and back again to be buckled on her back and pulled up to the last
possible notch, immobilising her still further by preventing her
rising from her bent position. Finally her arms were pulled firmly
round the back of the chair and her wrists lashed tightly together,
completing her confinement and ensuring that she could not move any
part of her body, the wide splayed thighs ensuring that her spread
buttocks were held rigidly presented to the surgeon's work.

When Charlotte
returned after several minutes, the journey to the stable involved
descending and ascending the stairs, an awkward progress given the
fetters we constantly wore, the doctor selected a small gleaming
scalpel and a metal cylinder, about a half inch in diameter and two
long, one end domed, at the other a spindle some six inches in
length, itself set in a boxwood handle.

The doctor
assembled a spirit lamp, with blowpipe attachment. The cautery was
set on a stand so that it was in the flame of the lamp, and
Charlotte was instructed to blow through the pipe, directing the
intense heat onto the iron head until it glowed red.

With a series
of deft strokes the doctor lanced each of the swollen petals
ringing Marion's rear opening, her shrieks at each slash of the
bistoury merging into one long howl as the doctor snatched the
cautery from its stand and applied the red hot iron, with a rolling
motion of his wrist, to all parts of the pouting anus, stanching
the blood he had released with its searing hiss.

As Marion
slumped in her bonds the doctor applied a pad of clean linen to the
wound, and drew up the crotch chain dangling between her legs,
remarking casually how convenient it would be for holding the
dressing in place.

Poor Marion
was much distressed by this painful surgery, but the doctor
reassured us that it was a standard medical procedure, and in
accordance with the best practice of modern times. He assured us
she would make a good recovery, fit to take her place on the chair
within a month or so, and her fundament as good as new, though she
might have to endure considerable discomfort on the way to
recovery, especially when attending to her natural functions.

As soon as we
were permitted we removed the wrappings securing Marion so
helplessly to receive the knife and the iron, and took her to her
bed. But we could not stay long, for we had been strictly enjoined
to return instanter to the study, to perform those remedial duties
for our guardians, that their inflamed members demanded.

With Marion
'hors de combat', the burden fell more and more heavily on
Charlotte and myself, until in time our poor sphincters started to
show incipient signs of the same distressing symptoms that had led
to Marion's need for surgical assistance. Our Guardians viewed the
possibility with some dismay, for how could they withstand the
effects of the poisonous contagion if we were all three put out of
action by the searing of our fundaments, and the need to let them
heal before they could be safely used again?

The problem
was solved by training us in a new and different way of drawing off
the poison. We were introduced to the art of oral relief. We were
shown how to take the inflamed and bloated organs into our mouths,
stimulating discharge by running our tongues along the ridges on
the stem, and around the edge of the satin smooth purple cap that
formed its extremity, sucking lustily to engender the flow. We soon
became adept at this technique, and would bring our 'patient' to
full flood in a matter of minutes. Then suck heartily until every
last drop of matter had been drawn and swallowed, for the Doctor
assured us that, deleterious as it was to the male sex, it could do
us no harm, since it was feminine engendered, much as a poisonous
snake is impervious to its own venom. With Marion able to play her
full part in this new mode of keeping our benefactors in health,
the burden was reduced until our sore rears subsided and could take
up their duties again, for the gentlemen seemed to think the action
of the sphincter more efficacious than that of the mouth and
tongue. Though for myself, I could never understand why, for their
outpourings seemed total, and our suction ensured that not a drop
was left within.

So now we had
two skills, and just as well, for we were receiving a visit from
one or both of our extra mural guardians nearly every night, and
with papa's sensitivity to our malignant miasmas greater by the
day, we were hard put to it. With our new oral ability, Marion was
able to share the load with us from the start. But it was a month
before she had healed enough behind to take her share of that mode,
and even then the doctor advised caution so as not to risk a
relapse.

You may
imagine our nerves were constantly screwed to fever pitch by our
frenetic activity, and we would have dearly liked to have sought
relief through the peripheral stimulation of our pubic nerves,
which the good doctor gives us to understand is the correct term
for that process whereby we stroke our buds until the tensions of
the day flood out of us, and leave us relaxed and ready for sleep.
But this being now a matter for punishment, we have to make the
judgement whether that solace is worth the price we must pay.

It always
seems so, when we lie tossing in our beds, fretting with the
undischarged excitement of the evening, our little fingers itching
for our delicate buds, aching to rub in gentle circles until our
bellies spasm and the ejected forces within us are made manifest as
juices wetting our thighs. But when we are mounted on the chair,
our buttocks screaming, as we would wish to scream but duty
restrains us, we cringe at the thought of three more soul twisting
cuts, and regret dearly the fleeting pleasure we took. In any case,
at the moments when we have most need of this relief, that is after
correction, it is denied us by the manacles on our wrists, which
prevent us from reaching between our thighs to perform the little
miracle of healing.

With the so
frequent visitors, the household had fallen into the way of dining
together in the evening. Or rather, the gentlemen dined, and we
women waited on them, preparing and serving their food, pouring
their wine, and lighting their cigars after. In exchange for these
small services we were rewarded by being fed portions from their
plates, and allowed to drink from their glasses. We much enjoyed
these generous expressions of their care for us, and tried to
express our gratitude as well as we might, without appearing to be
forward, or invite the infliction of the dreaded branks to curb our
tongues.

It was their
custom, while dining, to hold general conversation, the topic often
turning to the vexed, and vexing, question of women, natural enough
when one considered that, by profession, they were all responsible
in their own way for trying to right the evils of this world, and
where lay the source of most of those evils if not in women?
Naturally, they touched on the females of their own establishments,
whereby we came to learn something of the nature and regimen of
their households.

The doctor
boasted a wife and three daughters, besides a quantity of female
servants. His wife supported him in chastisement of the daughters,
it goes without saying the maids were regularly whipped for their
discipline as in any well regulated household, but his spouse would
not submit herself to his command or his rod. It would seem she
must be a very unwomanly female, and we could quite understand how
he might suffer so badly from the contagion that drove him to us
for care, and felt even more obliged to help him in this matter, to
atone in some small measure for those who we were ashamed to share
the same sex with, so hateful did their behaviour seem to us.

Away from the
baleful influence of his wife, the doctor, by reason of his
profession, came into contact with many females in need of his
expert help and guidance for their mental and physical health.
Apparently he had many times advised husbands on the degree and
mode of correction best suited to the disposition and physique of
their spouses, and even demonstrated the same, for their better
management. He also stated that he often recommended surgery for a
variety of conditions, including hysteria, nymphomania and
masturbation, though, listening at the table, naturally taking no
part in the conversation, we women had no idea of what this
entailed.