A conclusion to yesterday’s tale.
The cigarettes were foul and even Amelia suspected that walking down the middle of the road after midnight whilst swigging a bottle of brown ale was less than ladylike. But Spiffy had to agree that it was very dare and totally modern.
“I don’t really like smoking,” Amelia spluttered and made as if she had a bit of fluff on the end of her tongue.
Spiffy took a long drag as if savouring a fine wine and then coughed.
“I do see what you mean,” Spiffy said absently, “Perhaps we should try absinthe instead.”
“Or opium,” Amelia agreed.
“Is that dare? I mean I had a great uncle who smoked opium and he was ancient. And didn’t Sherlock Holmes smoke the beastly stuff too?” Spiffy asked.
“Sherlock… oh you mean the deerstalker chappie, detective of some sort wasn’t he? Surely that is quite dare.” Amelia countered.
“Well yes it would be but…” Spiffy took another slow awkward drag on her cigarette and coughed. By that time she had quite forgotten what she was saying and drank some more brown ale instead.
An owl hooted nearby and both girls stopped and tried to spot the bird in the old oak at the side of the lane; it who-hooed them again. Spiffy wondered if owls hunted better in the full moonlight and switched her gaze to the silver sphere that seem to be caught in the spindly branches of a beech tree. It was quite beautiful, she thought, and tons better than smoking.
“I have been thinking,” Amelia said.
“Well you should, it is the modern way and totally dare,” Spiffy said encouragingly.
“No silly, I mean I was thinking about this Major Merriman chap that Edwina introduced Hortensia to,” Amelia said seriously, “Or was it the other way about? Anyway… eh… what was I saying? Oh yes. I mean he is rather handsome and all that.”
“Jolly strange though,” Spiffy countered. She remembered his swagger stick and comments like ‘fillies need a damn good thrashing now and then.’
They had met the man yesterday and Edwina, who had now become more or less a permanent feature in the household, had persuaded Hortensia to let him come to stay also. He was a tall ramrod straight sort of cove with broad shoulders and the most distinguished sideburns. Amelia had been quite smitten from the first, although she had to reluctantly admit that a man who was at least as old as Hortensia could not be very modern and certainly wasn’t dare.
“Remind me, are we getting captured tonight or not?” Amelia asked.
“Oh not, I think, my behind is still a little tender from that last spanking and while the major is around… well you know, corner time and all that,” Spiffy wrinkled her nose in distaste, although that might have been on account of the cigarette that she now surrendered to the roadside with a flick.
Amelia’s stomach did a little flip and she thrilled at the thought. Were army majors like pirates, she wondered? But she thought it better not to ask.
“Hortensia will be in bed by now anyway,” Amelia sighed. The woman was really no challenge when it came to japes.
*
The side window was open as they had left it and gaining entry to the back room was no challenge at all. But Spiffy imagined that she was sneaking aboard an anchored ship and made to be quieter than she needed. Although usually up for such games, for some reason Amelia wondered if the army took women and wondered what the discipline was like.
“Oh what oh,” Spiffy gushed as they finally made it.
“What oh,” Amelia agreed half-heartedly.
The only real risk was getting up the one hall past the drawing room where, if they were up, Hortensia and uncle Mort would be sitting. But tonight the door was closed with no sign of a light from under it. Amelia felt a pang of disappointment at the challenge.
A dull thud followed by a slow rattle then a clunk startled them. With a giggle both girls hunched down and shushed each other. Somewhere up the hall from the stairs was some masculine laughter and another rattle-roll of what they now realised was a game of billiards in progress. From the sound of it, Mort, Charles and Major Merriman were still up and at it with the whisky and cigars.
Spiffy rolled her eyes and stood up.
“Come on,” she said, “Up the wooden hills to Bedfordshire.”
Amelia cast an inquisitive glance at the billiard room door and the shrugged her agreement. There was no point being quiet now, Hortensia would be deep in the arms of Morpheus and there was no chance of being captured. Indeed, once they reached the top of the stairs they could hear the sound of rather feminine heavy rhythmic breathing that was akin to, but mercifully short of actual snoring.
“Good evening ladies,” Edwina said brightly as she stepped from the shadows, “We were looking for you earlier for a four at bridge, but you were not in your rooms.”
Spiffy lurched visibly and Amelia’s head prickled from the sudden shock and she clutched her chest in fright.
“Oh you gave us quite a scare,” Spiffy gasped.
“I sent Hortensia to bed, but I thought I had better wait up for you,” Edwina said pleasantly, “After all your guardians have asked me to help oversee your guidance.”
“How kind,” Amelia said in a neutral voice.
“Yes, quite,” Spiffy was more nervous.
“Where have you been to such an hour?” Edwina sounded stern now, as she could be when the theatre of her life demanded it.
The girls exchanged looks, each wondering if the other had the same buzz of nerves.
“Just to the speakeasy,” Amelia said carelessly.
“The where?” Edwina wondered if she had misread the situation.
“She means the Red Lion,” Spiffy supplied hastily, “It is alright, the padre goes there all the time.”
“Is this the same Red Lion that Hortensia and Mort have specifically forbidden you to frequent or is there another?” Edwina said tartly.
“It looks like we’re captured Spiffs,” Amelia said more breezily than she felt.
In fact she hadn’t felt as apprehensive about getting caught in mischief since she had come out and landed on Hortensia from school at 18.
“You have been naughty, naughty girls and both deserve a good sound spanking on your bare bottoms,” Edwina said with faux severity and not a little relish.
Amelia felt a rush of blood to her head and words caught in her throat as Spiffy muttered something she didn’t catch.
“I suppose we had better get it over with then,” Spiffy added sullenly. “Will you… or Uncle Mort…?”
Then she remembered the major and Charles would be present and felt the heat rise to her cheeks.
“Oh no, I think not. You are too accustomed to a quick smack bottom and some transitory shame. I have your measure my sweet young girls; you are brats both of you. I am going to see that you are disciplined properly for a change. Now go to bed and think on that,” Edwina told them.
“Yes ma’am,” Amelia whispered almost meekly, but Spiffy was more spirited and glared at the woman.
Then Later in Amelia’s room they both lay on the bed looking up at the gently spinning ceiling.
“This is a rum do,” Spiffy said angrily. “I mean I know we wanted to make the rebellion worthwhile and invited in some decent opposition, but how were we to know the rules had changed. Surely we deserve a by? And now we know this Edwina is no pushover we can be more careful.”
“What do you think she will do to us?” Amelia whispered with dread and a hint perhaps of eagerness.
“Oh, I bet we will get a spanking from Mort and that will be the end of it,” Spiffy sounded almost disappointed.
“But the major and Charles…” Amelia gasped as she remembered.
Spiffy clutched at her friend in wide-eyed horror. This was beastly, she thought, but maybe, she consoled herself, it was also a little dare too.
*
The following afternoon, glad for once to not be the centre of attention, Petunia had taken Charles’s arm and had persuaded him to go for a walk with her. This was a blessed relief to Amelia and Spiffy who now only had the Major to contend with as a witness when they were punished; and that was quite embarrassing enough.
“I say, are you sure about this?” Mort asked as he eyed the two girls standing on the veranda dressed only in short slips and their stockings.
Hortensia too looked uncomfortable but seemed to be mollified when Edwina nodded.
“Persistent fault displays disrespect,” the Major said evenly.
“Quite so,” Edwina agreed.
Only Mort looked unconvinced, an attitude perhaps subliminally transferred to the Major, for the latter rose from his garden chair and made to leave.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” he said to Mort.
Spiffy was openly relieved, although Amelia felt a strange pang of regret for some reason and closed her eyes. She could see Major Merriman on a horse in a white uniform and chewed on her lip.
“Just a minute,” Edwina interjected, “Hortensia… don’t you think we could avail ourselves of the major’s expertise?”
Hortensia looked indecisive and Mort frowned.
That morning the guests and they had come to an understanding about how to proceed.
“You remember what we discussed?” Edwina pressed them.
“Ah…” Mort stroked his moustache and became pensive.
“You really think they deserve to be caned?” Hortensia asked.
Spiffy gaped and Amelia opened her eyes in horror. The garden held birdsong now to torment them with the ordinariness of the day.
“Surely major, you are a man of the world and when duty calls…?” Edwina sounded exasperated.
“Put like that,” Mort said, his eyes now firmly on his wife.
Hortensia blushed and wondered if all of this wasn’t getting beyond her control.
“Can’t you cane them yourself Mort?” she tendered.
Spiffy tried to catch Hortensia’s eye with a significant look of protest but Amelia could only shrink into herself and tugged down the front of her slip as she worried her lower lip with her teeth.
“Spank them soundly yes, duty and all that, but caning is an expert job,” Mort said thoughtfully, “Must be done properly for the girl’s sake.”
“And as for the rest…” Edwina said demurely.
“Oh yes,” Hortensia said brightly, having forgotten the details again.
“Oh I… I think perhaps for gentle young ladies… my remarks were for…” the Major was decidedly uncomfortable now and wished he hadn’t spoken. Earlier he had been thinking of the tough army wives and the rugged courtesan types who required figging before a caning just to get them to take notice.
“I have some experience of these delicate matters,” Edwina offered, knowing his mind. However she had already resolved to suggest that such things be reserved for future use. Not that she thought the girls weren’t ready. No it was their aunt who was too soft. “Hortensia, make your mind up to it, these girls have been running rings around you for months. They are laughing at you.”
“We weren’t laughing,” Amelia blurted.
Hortensia gave her a sharp look.
“But you have been playing me up and running rings… well as Edwina says?” she said.
Neither girl answered and dipped their heads.
“That’s it,” Mort growled getting to his feet.
He grabbed the nearest girl, in this instant Amelia, and dragged her across his lap. Her slip rose behind and offered the assembled grown-ups a good view of her fashionably pert derrière.
“I say,” the Major gasped.
Previously Mort had spanked to get attention, being somewhat apprehensive about harming his charges, but today his eyes had been opened and thoroughly fed up with his wife’s handling of things brought the full weight of his arm down with a will.
“Uncle Mort,” Amelia shrieked.
“Uncle Mort nothing my girl,” Mort snapped and spanked her again as the opening to a long volley.
“Ooh, it wasn’t meant to be like this,” Amelia wailed, her legs kicking theatrically like a woman running in a hobble skirt. “Ah… Mort… I mean Sir… I mean ahh…”
Spiffy clapped her hands to her mouth and watched her friends spanking with awe.
“Major, you have a cane to hand?” Edwina said quietly in his ear.
He nodded dumbly, his eyes still locked on Amelia’s pretty behind, which to his mind was by now pretty red.
“Perhaps you could fetch it,” Edwina whispered, adding gently, “Once they are waiting in the corner of course.”
Major Merriman nodded.
*
The spanking over, a rather tearful Amelia was made to stand and face the outside wall on the veranda with her hands on her head so that the hem of her short slip rose up off her bare bottom.
Mort had then turned his attention to Spiffy who made an even bigger fuss as she was spanked.
“Got a seat for it any rate,” the Major said in admiration.
But although he was appreciative of Susan Watkins heroic bottom, it was the more slender dark haired Amelia that held his focus.
Mort spared no efforts on Spiffy and spanked her for even longer than he had spanked Amelia. He reasoned that a he had set his head on two completely red bottoms and if Susan needed more work it was his duty to supply the effort.
“Oh gosh, Uncle Mort, Sir, ouch, please, nooo ouch…” Spiffy wailed out protests as they came to mind, “This really isn’t jazz, ooh…”
No but perhaps it is very, very dare, Amelia thought from her position in the corner. Despite fact that her face was hot enough to boil water for tea on, she couldn’t help wondering what Major Merriman thought of her.
“Now my girl, let that be a lesson to you,” Mort scolded as he finally allowed Spiffy to stand.
“Oh we are far from done yet I think,” Edwina said ominously.
Amelia thought of white slavers and gulped. Spiffy thought that her bottom stung worse than it ever had, damn Amelia and her crazy plans. She risked a look over her shoulder at Mort. He was not exactly the answer to a maiden’s prayers, but he did look a little pirate-like she supposed.
*
“The young can be so very foolish,” Petunia said imperiously.
She and Charles had returned from their walk in time to see the first caning. Now the two of them sat taking tea with the Major, Mort, Edwina and Hortensia while Amelia and Spiffy heaved sobbing breaths as they struggled with ‘corner time.’ Only the corner was in fact the flat wall next to the French windows where they both stood with the hands on their head and bare bottoms neatly displayed.
Earlier Charles and Petunia had watched Major Merriman slice a dark rattan cane across Amelia’s bare bottom as she bucked a yelled whilst leaning over the back of a garden chair. It was obviously quite an ordeal for the girl as well as a vigorous assault on her dignity.
The Major had ordered her to bend right over and thrust her bare bottom back at him as he struck in hard with the cane. Each biting stroke laid expertly one below the other. Every three or four strokes he had stopped and scolded her to make her keep position, a trial that she failed so often that in the end she received no less than seven penalty strokes on top of her allotted 12.
“Oh you beast, you beast,” Amelia sobbed once the correction was complete.
“Not a bit of it,” Major Merriman said severely, “You deserved every one of those.”
“I suppose,” Amelia sniffed, “But… ooh, it h-hurts so.”
“Meant to my girl, and I hope you have learned your lesson,” the Major scolded her.
“Oh yes indeed Sir,” Amelia said earnestly, “Well quite for the moment anyway. Although I expect…”
“That’s the ticket. Keep up this attitude and I’ll take you into London next week and a spot of dinner,” Merriman said brusquely, “Now for the other one.”
“Can’t we talk about this?” Spiffy said wringing her hands.
“Cane does the talking and if you don’t listen I’ll have Miss Maple here take you inside for a good figging and you’ll spend the afternoon thinking on it before hand,” the Major barked at her.
“But, but, but…” all she could think was Petunia seemed to have Charles and now Amelia was well on the way to securing the Major, who did she have?
“No but’s about it, bend over that chair at once or I will certainly offer you some penalties,” Merriman ordered.
Spiffy made more of a fuss than she ever had and once Petunia was settled in her seat she couldn’t help but to tease as she had once been teased.
“Don’t be so wet Susie, you know you thoroughly deserve a drubbing, now be a good sport and present your big BTM as you should or I will be compelled for family honour’s sake to ask the Major to give you another dozen. Isn’t that right Aunt Hortensia?” she chortled.
“I-I suppose it is. Come on Susan do attend, after all this is for your own good,” Hortensia chided her young charge.
But unused to quite so robust a punishment, Spiffy yelled quite a bit and on several occasions she launched herself upright, bringing the proceedings to a halt.
“Now do that again and I will start the whole thing over,” the Major cautioned.
“I am so dreadfully sorry,” Spiffy wept, “But it does hurt so… yeow.”
The next stroke interrupted her apologies and she shot to an upright position and clamped her hands to her throbbing bottom.
“Very well,” Major Merriman sighed, “We will start again.”
Spiffy, who had already had near a dozen plus a few penalties spluttered into sobs, but profusely apologising she bent back over and offer up her behind for sacrifice. In fact it wasn’t until much of the afternoon was stowed away and more tea was ordered that Spiffy joined Amelia at the wall.
“They have been thoroughly dealt with in my view,” Charles offered as he took in the welted tramlines that stood out on both girls’ reddened tails.
“Do you approve Charlie?” Petunia gushed, taking the man’s arm.
“Indeed I do,” Charles replied, “You can expect a good dose of the same once we are married if I get one jot of trouble from you.”
“Oh yes Charlie,” Petunia agreed even as she blushed.
“Do I take it…? Do you have an understanding Petunia?” Hortensia asked eagerly.
“Oh yes Aunt, Charlie popped the question and I… oh look,” Petunia offered up a ring she had been shielding from eyes.
The all-round congratulations were interrupted only by Edwina who cautioned, “And don’t think you are out of the woods yet as far as the Major and I are concerned,” she scolded her, “You will deport yourself like a lady from now on and you can expect the same until you are safely married.”
Petunia blushed but didn’t argue.
No one noticed Amelia looking back over her shoulder to catch the Major’s eye, no one but the major that was; and he winked.
The end of this cycle.
