Her Lord's Birch Read online

  “Though I appreciate your confidence in myself, as well as the rules of this institution, Lord Wintercrest, I must address the fact that your wife is no longer a student here. I do not have the authority to administer her punishment.”

  Edward saw his wife relax slightly, and knew she was desperately glad to hear those words. He relished the fact that she would discover she had relaxed far too soon. “I disagree, sir. Though, as you noted, my wife is now Lady Wintercrest, it has become obvious that she divested herself of her title with this escapade. No one forced my wife to leave her home. She chose to sneak into your school to become your student once again. She attended class and took an exam she knew was meant for Lucille. Her actions have given validity to my belief that our little Louisa indeed misses her carefree days as a young girl with nothing more to deal with than simple studies.”

  Louisa’s soft moan drew his eyes to his wife. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, as if she felt he believed she wasn’t able to behave either as an adult or a proper wife. Edward watched his wife try to steady herself and knew she was dreading what was to come; both here in this office as well as what she could expect once he had her in the privacy of their bedroom at home.

  Like her sister’s had been, her guilt was written clearly across her face. The difference was that there was no need for his young bride to spend time in self-reflection as Lucille had. Louisa had extensive experience as to the truth of the meaning hidden in his words to the headmaster. Her growing discomfort was just another level of the lessons her choices had earned her.

  “As she is indeed a student today, I see no reason to eliminate her from your standard discipline. After all, she is very familiar with the school’s rules, as she completed her studies here.”

  The headmaster still looked a bit unsure he was hearing correctly. Looking from Edward to his wife and back again, he said, “You do understand, Lord Wintercrest, that the school’s policy for matters as severe as those including blatant deceit involves discipline of the… um, corporal nature?”

  Edward had expected nothing less and nodded. “I do, Headmaster Thorne, and I ask you to do me this favor and proceed as if she were still under your guidance.”

  He watched his wife’s eyes widen, the disbelief in them plainly visible upon hearing his request. Her knuckles were turning white with her tightening grip on her sister’s fingers as she witnessed him doing something he was sure she never suspected him capable of doing. He couldn’t actually fault her for her skepticism. He’d spent months teaching her that he was a man who demanded control and yet here he was, blatantly giving his permission to another man to take his wife in hand. She tore her eyes off her husband’s only to see a smirk appear on Headmaster Thorne’s face.

  “Certainly, I shall do as you wish, sir,” Thorne said with a small bow. Straightening, he turned his attention to the two women. “Stand up and prepare yourselves,” he ordered before turning to walk around his desk.

  Chapter 2

  The women slowly stood, their hands still entwined. Louisa looked at her husband once more. “Please, Edward, I’m so sorry. Please, don’t let him do this,” she beseeched.

  Edward simply shook his head. “It is not Headmaster Thorne who did this. You did this, Louisa—you and Lucille. You chose to return to your student days; therefore, you will accept school discipline. You both shall pay the price. I suggest you do as you are told, as you will find no mercy here and even less when we return home.”

  The two women still hesitated, though each had released the other’s hand, their arms falling to their sides as they watched the headmaster. The black-robed gentleman was facing the wall behind his desk, his eyes traveling from one choice to another, obviously deciding upon which implement would serve him best. He made his selection and reached up to remove a wicked looking cane from its hooks.

  Turning, he swished the length of rattan through the air, the whistling sound it made rivaling that of Lucy’s mournful moan. Thorne pointed the rod at the two women. “Normally I would call for Mrs. Francis to attend as witness to your punishment; however, I believe Lord Wintercrest will serve as witness in her stead, if you agree, sir?”

  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 sting 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 as the pair finally surrendered to the inevitable, both obviously not wanting even more witnesses to their degradation.

  Thorne nodded. “Face the settee, bend over, raise your skirts, bare your bottoms, and place your hands on the cushions.”

  With soft sniffles already beginning to come from the two, both women reluctantly obeyed the dreadful order. Turning to face the settee, the women bent forward. Heavy woolen skirts were pulled upward to expose shapely calves covered in black stockings, the color contrasting sharply with the white bloomers that followed. Time seemed to slow as their skirts inched ever upwards until the fabric was gathered in a wad around small trim waists. Small shaking hands reached back, fingers clasping the far softer linen of their split-crotch bloomers, slowly drawing the fabric apart.

  Apparently far too slowly as Thorne squawked, “I don’t have all day; bare your bottoms immediately!” The twins jerked but obeyed, parting their bloomers until four bare little buttocks were exposed to the light of the room.

  Edward was once again 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. With their preparation almost complete, the girls lowered their hands to the settee, though he noticed they each again took hold of the other’s as if 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, neither of you are strangers to the proper position for a well-deserved caning. I want you to show your admittance of guilt by lifting your bottoms well up for the cane.”

  Lucy broke down first, her sobs choking her throat as tears streamed down her face.

  Edward watched as the headmaster made his decision in who would be put under the rod first. Obviously enjoying the sound of Lucy’s fear, Thorn stepped to Louisa’s left and raised the cane.

  Edward found he agreed with the man, though most likely for a different reason. Edward had no wish for either woman to truly fear him or had any desire to break their spirits. He didn’t consider himself an unkind man though he would describe himself as a stern one. He was absolutely immoveable in his belief that disrespect, blatant disobedience and deceit would be punished each and every time it was chosen. But, though both women were indeed guilty, he had no doubt as to which one had hatched the plan. He concurred that 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.

  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, only a small quiver in her voice betraying her lack of composure. “Forgive me for my disobedience, headmaster. I admit my guilt and I am ready to submit to my punishment.”

  If Thorne was su
rprised at her formal words, he contained it fairly well. He glanced from her bare bottom to Lord Wintercrest. Edward didn’t smile or speak; he saw no need to inform the man that his wife might well have left the school behind but she had continued her lessons with him as her sole professor. The only acknowledgement he gave the man was a slight nod.

  Thorne didn’t prolong Louisa’s wait. He measured the distance by tapping her upturned bottom twice before drawing back his arm. The thin cane landed with a sharp crack, flexing to wrap around her beautifully rounded rump as if wishing to caress as much surface as possible. Louisa yelped but didn’t move out of position even as the second stroke landed a fraction of an inch below the first.

  Edward watched as 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 his wife’s posterior that Louisa began to beg.

  “Please… oh, no… please!” Tears slid down her face as she straightened slightly, tucking her bottom in, her feet shuffling as she tried to avoid the cane.

  “Back into position and present your bottom properly, Louisa.”

  Her little dance instantly stopped, her sobs increasing when she realized it was her own husband giving her the order. When Edward’s keen eyes saw her inner thighs clench, his curiosity was piqued. Could just the sound of his displeasure as he gave his instruction cause her body to react regardless of the fact that she was standing not in their home, but in another’s office? It was definitely something he wished to explore, but that could wait. His little lady had more to endure.

  “Be still, and push that naughty bottom out, or would you prefer I ask Headmaster Thorne to begin anew?”

  “No! I-I mean, no, please, sir. I’m-I’m sorry.”

  Edward was sure she was. She knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to make good his threat. Past experience had taught her that Edward never failed to enforce any discipline he deemed necessary.

  “Then obey me and raise your bum up to accept your strokes and be grateful for the lesson.”

  He watched her obey, lifting her bottom higher. Knowing pain was but a part of the lesson and wishing to assure it was one she’d not forget, he said, “Stop clenching, Louisa. Relax your buttocks. Apologize and ask Headmaster Thorne for an extra to remind you to stay in position.”

  Louisa sobbed, stuttering, “I’m s-sorry, Headmaster Thorne. 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 weals were raised in remarkably evenly spaced lines, he said, “This last shall require great fortitude from you, 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’s head reared back, her mouth open and yet Edward knew she’d lost her breath as total silence descended, time hanging suspended for a long moment. Finally, with a scream, the quiet was shattered as her mind registered the intense pain of the last, extra stroke crossing diagonally across the previous twelve. Her knees buckled, and Edward felt pride when she refused to fall, pushing up, lifting her well-thrashed bottom as high as she could.

  He eyed Thorne’s handiwork painted across his wife’s bottom, and had to give the man credit for his ability to discipline a young woman properly. There was no overlapping of weals—not counting the darker diagonal line she had earned as her extra. Twelve red lines marched in a perfect row down her arse, each one broken only by the cleft of her bottom. It truly was a job very well executed.

  His gaze shifted to his ward as Thorne moved to stand beside Lucy. Her bottom was no longer the mirror image of her twin’s, but Edward knew that would soon change as he watched the headmaster roll the cane across the pale, unmarked canvas. He saw Lucille cringe away from the touch of the implement and couldn’t exactly fault the young woman. He hadn’t been caned since he was a lad, but one never forgot how each weal felt like it was burning ever deeper into one’s skin all the way down to the bone.

  “You would do well to learn from your sister, Miss Furniss. She admitted her crime and gracefully accepted the need for a proper chastisement. Surely you can do the same?”

  Lucille didn’t speak, only gave a strangled whimper, her braids swinging from side to side as she shook her head. Thorne sighed deeply and looked to Edward.

  Edward smiled and spoke softly, “I am afraid that Lucille hasn’t had the benefit of additional education in the area of discipline. Though I respected their father greatly, I fear Joseph had rather a soft spot when it came to his only children. Perhaps if he had taken the necessary time to properly drive the lesson home, then these two would not even now be bent over, naughty 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 it lifted high and then descended to take its bite.

  Lucy vocalized her distress from the very first stroke. Her hand now crushed her sister’s as she fought to hold position. The second stroke landed and she shrieked at the third before finding her voice at last to beg, “Please, oh-oh, please. I beg you, stop! Please, no more!”

  Edward wasn’t surprised when Thorne ignored her pleas. He was sure the man was well accustomed to many a young woman begging for mercy as he delivered a punishment. It was obvious that he took his job seriously and had become a master of the cane. His strokes always landed a hairsbreadth below the one before. Edward’s birthright might have placed him several stations above Thorne, but the men evidently shared this one thing. Neither believed 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.

  Chapter 3

  Lucy couldn’t stop the embarrassing dance as her bottom wagged up and down, swaying from side to side like an out of control metronome as she fought to cool the fire her headmaster seemed determined to stoke higher with every stroke. She’d wanted to protest her guardian’s statement that her father had been lenient… he’d often taken her across his knees. But she had to admit, he’d never, ever produced anything close to the raging inferno that was burning across her buttocks.

  Lucy finally collapsed, her hand pulling free of her sister’s as she sank to the floor. She cupped the punished skin of her bottom in her palms as she continued to beg for mercy. “I’m sorry, please, I-I can’t take another. Sir… please, I’m begging you.”

  “Keep your hands off your bottom,” Thorne said as he reached down and unceremoniously hauled her up by her arm. Lucy tried to pull away even though her sister was again reaching for her hand.

  “No, please. You-You’ll skin me alive!”

  “Rubbish! 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.”

  His words pierced her cries, causing Lucy to struggle 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 did what even the threat of more strokes was unable to accomplish. Releasing her abused buttocks, she resumed the familiar position of miscreants everywhere, head down, bottom bared and lifted, stomach twisting while waiting to receive the next biting strike of the viper. She heard her sister whisper for her to be brave, and Lucy wished she could emulate Louisa’s acceptance of the horrid discipline. Sh
e couldn’t find the strength or bravery and instead buried her face in her hands, her cries echoing around the room as Thorne finished her dozen.

  “Bottom pushed out if you please,” Thorne ordered as he swished the cane several times in the air. When she didn’t instantly comply, he pressed the end of the devil’s implement into the previous stroke, tapping it sharply. “I said, bottom well out, young lady.”

  Lucy sobbed into the scratchy fabric of the settee, trying to bring her bottom into the position he’d ordered. She heard the cane swish once more through the air, and then her head reared back as she conveyed the agony of the extra stroke in one long drawn out scream.

  As with her sister, Thorne had placed the 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. “Again, Miss Furniss. Lift your bottom and submit to your discipline.”

  One more… she could take just one more, she told herself. Gritting her teeth, Lucy forced her bottom up. Thorne tapped the cane across the painfully raised 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 backside once more.

  “Lucille Furniss, get your hands off your arse,” Edward stated firmly, as if not believing she had the audacity to try to rub away her punishment after being reminded earlier. “Present yourself properly until you are released, or it will be another round of the cane.”