The boy lowered his hands and staggered back to the chair.
"Bend over," his mother said.
With a docility born of a well-whipped backside, the boy draped himself once more across the back of the chair, presenting his wealed and bruised bottom for renewed punishment.
Maureen put down her tea cup, stood and picked up the tawse.
"I think I will start down his center," Maureen said.
"Very well, proceed."
Down whistled the heavy tawse and landed on that most sensitive area, by now quite red and sore. It took only three slow, measured strokes to get the boy bellowing again.
"Ah, it seems his backside has its feeling back," his mother said approvingly. "He is feeling it and, we hope, learning from it."
"Are you learning not to disobey again, Basil?" Maureen asked as she brought the tawse down with extra force. Instead of answering, the boy howled. "I asked you a question, boy," Maureen said more loudly and the boy whimpered a soft "Yes, ma'am."
The whipping proceeded systematically for another six or seven minutes. The thick leather clapping loudly on red, wealed flesh, eliciting loud responses from a very sorry young boy.
At last, Eve Gorthon stood.
"That will be all, Basil, for today. Maureen, you may put down the tawse. Basil will go back into the corner for an hour, hands on his head. I believe he will not disobey me for a while, but if he does, he'll get the exact same whipping."
Basil, back in his corner, sobbed noisily before restraining himself to silent sobbing.
"Well, Maureen, I think you will do quite well. If it suits you, you may start next Monday. We won't leave until Friday and you will be under my supervision during that week. I will show you my methods in more detail to ensure that you have all the necessary tools at hand that you may need during our absence. Do not hesitate at any time to use the cane or birch if you feel it would be helpful. And above all don't listen to the boy's entreaties to spare him. All boys try this at first and it should be discouraged right from the beginning."
"Yes," Maureen said, "I understand completely. I will do as you say and I am sure you will have no complaints - except from the boy himself." They laughed.
"Excellent, then we will see you on Monday and you can then meet my husband. And if young Basil misbehaves in the meantime, you will have another chance to whip his behind under my watchful eye."
The two women shook hands and Eve Gorthon see Maureen to the door. Basil was left, sobbing and writhing, in his dark little corner, wishing he could soothe his blazing buttocks with his hands. He didn't dare do this, even while alone in the room, of fear of being found out and punished afresh.
A full hour was a very long time to stand and think of nothing but his sore backside.
Basil spent the week end doing his home work under his mother's supervision. Every lesson, every page, paragraph and sentence was reviewed and mistakes pointed out. As Basil saw his mother making notations with a red pen to outline all the errors she had found, he became more and more anxious. He knew that soon his father would be brought in and his home work gone over once more by him, this time under the threat of punishment.
"Well, Basil," his father said later on Sunday afternoon, "your mother has shown me the results of your two-day efforts. I must say, I'm not very impressed with the amount of effort that has gone into it. From the number of mistakes I can see, you just tried to get the work done as quickly as possible, regardless of quality. You know what I think of that. Under normal circumstances, you would now be bending over the chair, bottom bare, getting the cane."
Basil sat by his small desk, slumped in misery, tears already rolling down his cheeks. He ran his palms up and down his bare thighs with nervous intensity. His bottom seemed to take on a life of its own.
"However," his father continued, "these are not normal circumstances. Your mother and I have to get ready for our trip on Friday and will be very busy. I understand that you will have a new governess on Monday and I shall let her deal with you. I am getting tired of having to thrash your backside day in and day out, and I'm glad Miss Walker will take charge of you from now on. Just be warned: if she ever comes to me with a complaint about you, no matter how insignificant it may be, I will not hesitate in flogging you within an inch of your life. So you'd better obey her in all cases."
With that, Herman Gorthon walked out of the room, leaving a most relieved little boy behind in his room.
Monday morning, at breakfast time, the four Gorthons were sitting at the large table in the kitchen, the adults drinking coffee, the children milk. Susan Gorthon, aged 14, smirked at her brother.
"Hey, I hear little Basil is getting a nanny," she taunted. "Little boy needs a nanny to change his diapers?"
"Shut up, stupid cow," Basil muttered under his breath. "It's not a nanny."
"Mum, did you hear what Basil just called me?" she said indignantly.
"Yes, Susan, I heard. Stop teasing your brother and he will not insult you. Basil, you will watch your language in the future. And when Miss Walker arrives, I want you to tell her what you just said to your sister."
"But, Mum - "
"Now eat your breakfast. Susan, you will get ready for school and I want you back home no later than five o'clock."
"But, Mum, Joanne and I were going to the cinema after school. It's a great film, all the girls said so."
"Oh, very well, but straight afterwards. You will still have to do your homework."
"Little Basil doesn't go to school. He now has his nan- I mean, governess."
She laughed and the boy's face darkened with anger.
At eight o'clock sharp, Maureen Walker made her appearance. This morning she seemed more at ease, more sure of herself, and her manner more fitting to her new role.
Father and daughter left the house to go their separate ways, leaving Basil with his mother and his new governess. The boy looked at the woman, now dressed in a stern grey suit, her glasses glittering, her hair combed straight back, and he felt nervous. He was wearing his school outfit, white shirt and grey shorts, with white ankle socks and black sandals. Maureen looked down on him and nodded her approval. The shirt was clean, the shorts trim and snug, cut about 8 inches above the knee, the socks neatly folded. The boy's bare knees looked well scrubbed.
"I will take the boy to his room," she said, "and review all his former school work so I know what he should know and what he should learn during the next three months or so."
Eve Gorthon nodded. "Very well, but before that, Basil has something to tell you. Don't you, Basil?"
The boy's face blushed. He had hoped his mother had forgotten his remark to Susan yesterday, but obviously she hadn't. He sighed.
"Please, Ma'am," he addressed Maureen hesitantly, "I said 'shut up, stupid cow' to my sister. I am very sorry, but she was teasing me."
Maureen put down her briefcase and looked at the boy with a stern expression.
"That was very rude of you," she said coldly. "You will have to take some teasing from your sister, or anyone else for that matter, with good grace. Insults will not get you anywhere. I believe that such language merits punishment."
"I certainly would say so," Eve Gorthon said.
"Let us go upstairs, Basil, and see what the tawse can teach you today."
"Miss Walker, if I may. In my opinion the boy should be caned for such an offense and it may be a good idea if you get in some practice before we leave. Basil, take Miss Walker into the study, show her where the canes are kept and then get ready for a sound whipping. We'll be along presently."
"We have a number of canes," Eve Gorthon said when the boy had left, red-faced and muttering under his breath, "and I will show you which are the most suitable. Most of them are long and thin, very pliable and can sting sufficiently for ordinary little peccadilloes. But there are also a few that are heavier but just as flexible, that leave deep weals and bruises if handled with appropriate severity. You will have to judge which cane you will use during our absence but of course you will reserve the heavy canes for especially serious crimes like lying, cheating, or disobedience."
"I understand," Miss Walker smiled. "The thinner canes can be effective too, I am sure."
"Well, let's go to the study. I want to see you handling the cane with that strong tennis arm of yours."
Basil was waiting by the cupboard, He had opened the doors and was looking quite apprehensive. His shorts and pants were already around his ankles.
Maureen Walker approached the cupboard and peered inside. There were not only canes hanging from hooks in there. There were more leather straps, some thick wooden and leather paddles and even birch rods soaking in bucket.
Maureen inspected the canes, taking them out one by one, flexing them and swishing them a few times through the air as the half-naked boy watched with wide, anxious eyes. At last, she selected a yellowish Rattan with a crook handle, a typical school cane. She made a show of bending it into a half circle right under the boy's eyes and tapping it lightly against the boy's bare thighs.
"Get over the chair," she said at last.
The heavy leather arm chair was already in the required position and did not need to me moved. Young Basil, knees already a bit unsure, positioned himself over the back and pressed his face into the leather cushion of the seat.
"Feet apart," Maureen instructed while Eve Gorthon stood to one side to observe. "Then she raised the boy's shirt to his shoulders, fully exposing the small buttocks which still showed evidence of her tawse.
After measuring the distance by tapping the tip of the cane against the boy's lower buttocks, she raised the cane and whisked it down sharply. There was a fleshy impact and a moment's silence. Then the boy's reaction" a sharp intake of breath, a little squirm of the behind and slight shifting of the feet.
"Keep still, Basil, until I tell you to get up. " She raised the cane and again swished it sharply across the boy's lower bottom. Basil gasped but kept his feet in place.
"Here, let me have that cane for a moment," Eve Gorthon said, stepping forward. "Let me just show you how the cane should be applied for best effect."
Maureen handed Eve the cane and stepped back to watch as Eve positioned herself, aimed and whipped the cane across the boy's backside with amazing speed and a little twist of the wrist as the cane sunk into the boy's flesh.
"Here, try it," she said, handing the cane back to Maureen.
This time, the cane whistled sharply through the air and lashed the boy across the underside of the bottom cheeks. Maureen had used her best forehand and imitated the twist of the wrist most effectively. Young Basil yelped loudly and buried his face in the leather cushion. A deep, purple weal sprang up on the fleshy buttocks.
"Ah, now you are getting the hang of it," Eve Gorthon said approvingly. "Try it again, only now stepping back a few paces and then moving forward as you apply the stroke."
This advice was also followed and the boy's reaction proved the efficacy of the stroke. Little Basil hopped about in pain and a high-pitched whine, somewhat suffused by the cushion, filled the room.
"Yes, that's it. Try it again. After some practice, you will be able to add your own touches to make each stroke count."
Maureen Walker caned the boy soundly, with each stroke gaining ever more confidence and heft. Eve Gorthon watched dispassionately as her son's backside jumped and twitched each time the cane landed.
"Miss Walker, that last one was well placed but try and have the cane tip land towards the cleft. I don't see enough marks in that area. Good, that's better."
Crack! Crack! Crack! Each solid cut was followed by the boy's agonised howl of pain. Crack! Crack! Crack! "Give him some across the upper thigh," Eve Gorthon instructed. "And the underside of the buttocks. Yes, but harder. Good."
Crack! Crack! Crack! The boy now produced a loud blubbering sound and his legs were trembling more violently. "Give him the next few so the tip lands on his left buttocks," Eve Gorthon advised, pointing.
Crack! Crack! Crack! "Oh, please, Mum, no more. Please Ma'am, please!" The mumbled words were ignored as the cane did its work.
"Will you speak nicely to your sister from now on, Basil?" Maureen Walker asked, tapping the cane against the boy's heavily wealed buttocks. "Or do you need another six or eight?"
"Oh, no, ma'am," the boy sobbed, "I'll be good. I won't talk that way to Susan again. I promise!"
"Very well, then," Maureen said, lowering the cane. "You will remain in position until I come back and we will then start on the daily lessons. And I suggest you apply yourself or you'll be right back here for a little more cane." Eve Gorthon and Maureen Walker left the study, closing and locking the door behind them, leaving a small, nalf-naked, sobbing little boy bent across the chair, displaying his well-whipped behind.
"I can see you are a quick study. I'm glad, because I have come to like and trust you," Eve Gorthon said as they walked towards the boy's bedroom. "Basil has all his texts and notebooks in here. You may review them before you bring the boy back. Don't let up on him. If he doesn't work, use the tawse and don't worry about the cane stripes. They'll do him good. Now I have to run. I have a lot of shopping to do and then make arrangements for our trip. Good luck."
Alone in the boy's room, Maureen looked about. It was a large room as boys' bedrooms go, with a small, low cot, a night stand, a desk with chair, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. She pulled out one of the drawers and found a collection of boy's shorts and socks. Another drawer held shirts and underwear. All was kept tidy and neatly folded. When she checked the wardrobe, she found a gray suit, a rain coat and caps and shoes.
The desk, as Eve had said, held all the boy's school books. She opened one of the notebooks and read some of the boy's written lessons. She sat at the desk on the hard bench and read through most of the boy's lessons.
It was getting close to lunch time when she finally returned to the study. Basil was still obediently bent over the chair, collapsed like a beetle with a needle through the body. His bottom had swelled up and his legs were shaking.
Maureen stood in the doorway for a few minutes just watching the boy. She suddenly felt a great sense of power over this child, knowing that she was empowered to punish him as often and as hard as she wanted. She realized that she enjoyed that feeling and that she would take advantage of her position.
"You may get up, Basil," she said sharply. She waited while the shivering boy slowly struggled off the chair and then stood before her, fully exposed but apparently oblivious to it, holding his bottom, bent slightly forward, his face, red and tea -streaked, still contorted with pain.
"Stand up straight, boy, and look at me," Maureen ordered. "Hands on your head. I don't want you holding on to your behind all the time. It looks ridiculous."
"Y-yes, ma'am," the small boy stammered and placed his hands on the top of his head. As he stood, he suddenly realized his nakedness and his face glowed with shame. His ears seemed to be on fire. He was sweating, biting his lips, trying to keep from crying again.
Maureen deliberately looked down the front of his slim body. "You really look quite ridiculous," she said. "Small boys can be so mean to little girls when they are fully dressed but look at you now. What a disgrace. Now go into the kitchen for your lunch, Mary has prepared something. When you have finished, you will go to your room and we will start our lessons."
The boy lowered his hands and was about to pull up his shorts and pants that were still puddled around his ankles, when Maureen interrupted.
"Step out of these, fold them, and place them on the chair. You will get them back in the afternoon if I am satisfied with your lessons. Now go!"
Basil was about to protest but thought better of it. He slowly turned and walked out the door. Maureen slowly followed, enjoying the sight of the boy's well-whipped backside. In the kitchen, Mary looked a bit surprised to see the boy without his usual shorts, but said nothing. They ate their meal in silence, only Basil squirming and shifting his bare bottom on the hard chair.
It did not take long before Maureen and Basil were back in the boy's room.
Lessons went badly. They started with the pages that Eve Gorthon had marked with red. Maureen went over each mistake, explained the error and had the boy write the correction fifty times before proceeding to the next. It was a long, dreary task during which the boy could never forget about his sore, throbbing bottom. After two hours of this, he was crying miserably.
"What's the matter, Basil?" Maureen asked. "Why are you blubbing again?"
"It's just... I'm so tired. Can't we stop for a while?"
"Do you want another whipping this very moment?" Maureen asked, slapping the boy's bare thigh so hard her palm left a red imprint.
"N-no, ma'am," Basil whispered.
"Then pay attention. Your spelling here is quite atrocious. Write 'expeditiously' fifty times and hurry up. No mistakes this time."
Trying to write with his shaking hand and to see through his tears was difficult. Maureen was not satisfied when he had finished and he had to do it over again. His crying became harder and Maureen was losing her patience.
"Stop that sniveling at once!" she exclaimed with another hard slap on the boy's thigh. "Another sound out of you and I'm taking that tawse off the hook." Basil had rewritten the word another fifty times but some of tears had dropped on the page and blurred the ink.
"Do it over, Basil," Maureen instructed, annoyed. "If you don't get it perfect this time, you'll be punished."
Basil's handwriting only became worse and in the end Maureen had no choice but to reach for the tawse.
"Across the bed, Basil, and place two pillows under your pelvis. Maybe a few good smack with the tawse will encourage you to do better work."
"But, ma'am, I'm still so sore," Basil whined.
"You should have thought of that before you made all these mistakes," Maureen said, slowly taking the thick tawse off its hook. With a sigh, the boy took two pillows and lay across them.
"Legs further apart," Maureen said, looking down on the swollen buttocks covered with purple welts. This was going to hurt, she thought with some excitement. "Push that fat little bottom well up and out."
The boy wailed pitifully during the application of the tawse but Maureen kept at it, reminding herself not to show mercy for this naughty, self-willed little boy. Her arm was tired by the time she finished and the boy lay whimpering across the bed, his bottom glowing a deep red between the darker cane marks.
"Get up, and sit back down. You will write these words over again. Flawless, this time."
Basil struggled off the bed and sat, sobbing, on the hard bench. He took up the pen and began to write with trembling fingers.