Basil - Part 9


by Juan Santiago <Palizaus2000@yahoo.com>

Miss Walker answered the telephone.

"Yes, Mrs. – " she said. "Good to hear from you again. Please wait and I'll get the children." She put down the receiver and called, "Susan, Basil, come downstairs to the study. Your parents are on the telephone."

As she returned to the study, she heard the children rush down the stairs with great stomping noise. They burst into the room.

"Wait a moment, I'll put you on the speaker phone," Miss Walker said and pushed a button.

"Hello, Mrs. Gorthon, are you there?"

"Yes, Miss Walker. Susan, Basil, are you all right?"

"Oh, yes, Mummy," Susan burbled. "It's just great. I saw William again last night. We had such fun. We all went to Irene's party and – "

"Good, good," Eve Gorthon interrupted with a laugh. "And how is Basil?"

Before Basil could open his mouth, Susan exclaimed, "Oh, Miss Walker said Basil has been very naughty. He doesn't want to learn his lessons, that he is lazy and is disobedient. Isn't that right, Miss Walker?"

"Yes, I'm afraid Susan is right," Miss Walker said with an audible sigh. "Basil has been difficult. I've had to punish him daily but his improvement is very slow."

"Well, then, Miss Walker," Eve Gorthon said with some exasperation, "you obviously don't punish him with enough severity. If a dozen with the cane doesn't work, then try two dozen. I've told you not to pamper the boy. A sound thrashing on his behind should teach even stubborn little boys like Basil. Just do it often enough and hard enough and he will eventually learn."

"Well, actually I have asked a friend to help out. His school is closed for the holidays and he was kind enough to discipline the boy himself on occasion. He's been quite successful with those special canes of his. Basil will attest to their efficacy, can't you?"

"Er – y-yes, Miss," the boy stuttered in confusion.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. Maybe this gentleman can provide us with extra ones for when we get back. It seems we will have ample opportunity to use them on Basil's backside to judge from his behaviour."

"When are you planning to return?" Miss Walker asked.

"As a matter of fact, we have been delayed. We are not sure when we can get back. I hope you will be able to cope in the meantime. What's the gentleman's name?"

"Pryor. Jack Pryor. He runs a private boys' school not too far from here and he has a great deal of experience with difficult boys. He has offered to take charge of Basil for a few weeks if I want some days off. Would that be all right?"

"I suppose so. Just make sure that school deals severely with the boy. I don't want him to fall back on his old bad habits."

"Mr. Pryor has promised that he will make sure Basil gets his daily ration of the cane to keep him on his toes. I know Jack quite well and I am convinced that Basil will not lack proper discipline while at that school."

"Mummy," Susan now broke in, "I have been invited to William's house next Saturday. Can I buy a new dress?"

"Yes, of course, Susan. But, Miss Walker, please make sure it's something suitable. We will be bringing home some French designer clothes for you, Susan and some nice surprises. Just be patient until we return. We also have something special for Basil," she added. "I spent some time in Paris and they have some interesting things there, not just clothes."

"Yes? What is it?" Basil's excitement was clearly audible over the long-distance telephone wires. "What will you bring me?"

"It's called a martinet, Basil. We bought it in France after having visited the Lanthiers. They have 3 boys aged 7, 9 and 11. The oldest about your age, Basil. And all three get a large dose of the martinet every time they misbehave. And from what I hear, you deserve some of it as well."

Basil's disappointment was palpable. "What is a martinet, Mummy?" he asked rather fearfully.

"It's a whip, Basil. Five or six thick leather thongs attached to a handle. It's like having a birch rod made of leather. From what we have witnessed, they are extremely effective when applied to a boy's bare bottom. Those three boys would get 20, 30 even up to 50 lashes for rather minor infractions. And you should have seen the welts these thongs left on their little buttocks! Black and blue for days. Just what you need, wouldn't you say, Miss Walker?"

"Definitely. I'm sure those three lads benefited from its application."

"To judge from their screams and howls during the administration, I'd say they benefited greatly."

"But, mummy, that's not fair!" Basil shouted. "Why is Susan getting nice presents? Why can't I get some new clothes as well?"

"Basil," Miss Walker admonished sharply, "that's no way to speak to your mother."

"But –"

"Miss Walker," Eve Gorthon broke in, "I see what you meant when you said the boy is slow to learn. Perhaps you might give him a few with the tawse for his impertinence just now. I'll wait on the telephone and listen in. I want to make sure you know how to handle such behaviour."

"Very well," Miss Walker said and then, to Basil, "and you, get those shorts down and across the chair with you. Now!" While the boy, already close to tears with frustration and fright, slowly obeyed, Miss Walker went to fetch the big, heavy tawse.

"Mummy," Susan chimed in, "Basil's bottom is now bare and he is bending over the back of the chair. His favourite position, I think." She gave a little laugh.

Eve Gorthon listened on her end of the telephone wire as the tawse made loud contact with the boy's skin. A yelp followed. This was repeated for a period of perhaps 5 minutes during which yelps spiraled into shrieks, cries and roars.

"Very good, Miss Walker," Eve Gorthon's voice came from the speaker. "I estimate this to be about 4 dozen. Tell me, Basil, are you absorbing the lesson? Are you learning?"

"Yes, Mummy, yes! Oh, please make her stop I'll be good. Really I will, only ask her to stop."

"I suggest 2 dozen more, Miss Walker. The boy should not be negotiating with me. He must be made to realise that he is to obey, that's all. We don't need his whining. Boys are supposed to be able to take their punishments with a little more stoicism. Make the last two dozen hurt. And I mean hurt!"

Susan chuckled. "Mummy, Basil's bottom is almost purple. He was whipped yesterday, you know. By Mr. Pryor."

"I hadn't realised just how bad the boy's behaviour has been," Eve Gorthon said. "Just lay it on, Miss Walker. Don't spare the boy."

And Miss Walker complied with her best forehand , working mostly on the lower half of the boy's bottom and upper thighs as the bending boy screamed lustily.

They let the boy in his position as the conversation resumed.

"Good, Miss Walker. From what I could hear, you gave the boy a fairly competent beating. Next time you use the tawse, make it last closer to ten minutes. At a rate of a stroke every ten seconds, that should bring the total to 5 dozen. You can always extend the time if you feel it necessary."

"Very well, Ma'am."

"Oh, and by the way, Basil, I am bringing new clothes for you as well. Boys here wear shorts that are delightfully brief and I'm sure you will be pleased to hear that even more of your bruised bottom will be visible beneath the short hems for all your friends to admire. They are worn with braces sewn directly onto the waistband in the back and buttoned in the front. That way you won't be able to loosen them. I bought a few for Church wear as well as some skimpier ones, second-hand and already well used, for you to play in. No need to get your good shorts all grubby."

"Well, Basil," Miss Walker said tersely, "aren't you going to thanks your mother for your presents?"

Basil, his head still in the cushion of the chair, wishing he could rub his stinging and throbbing behind, mumbled, "Thank you."

The tawse suddenly slashed sharply across his thighs.

"Do that properly, boy," Miss Walker exclaimed, and whipped the tawse down again. "And don't mumble."

"Thank you, mother," Basil said, this time very clearly and loud enough for his mother to hear.

"You see, Ma'am, he's quite a handful. He doesn't seem to be able to think properly unless he feels it on his backside."

"Exactly," Eve Gorthon agreed. "So make him feel it – often and hard. Very hard."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Well, I'll ring off now. Please have Basil stand in the corner for the next hour. Oh, just a minute. Herman wants to say hello."

Mr. Gorthon's voice came on. "How's everyone? We're having a great time here except for the business discussions, of course." He laughed loudly. "And how are my children doing?"

"Fine, Dad," Susan said. "I can't wait to see the clothes Mummy bought me."

"Oh, they are very pretty, I can tell you. And expensive. You better take good care of them. Don't spill your ice cream on them." He laughed again. "And Basil? I overheard his thrashing just now. Good work, Miss Walker. Make the little blighter howl. Boys need that, I'm told, every day. And what's that I hear about a school? What he needs is some military discipline."

"It's even more severe than that," Miss Walker said. "Mr. Pryor, who runs the school, is going to make sure he gets his daily share. And we'll be waiting for that martinet. I've never seen one, much less used it, but it sounds quite formidable."


More stories by Juan Santiago