The victim is almost ready to faint, still I could see the usual indications of voluptuous excitement, notwithstanding the agony she must be in, but at last she seems quite exhausted, and ceasing to writhe and wriggle as if she no longer felt the cruel blows whilst her shrieks sink to a sobbing. 'Yes, yes! oh! yes.'
sir eyre. – 'Ha! Ha! Ha!' laughing in anticipation of getting the real culprit. 'Yes! yes! she's confessed at last, let her down now, poor thing,' throwing away the stump of the worn-out rod; 'she took a lot before she would give way, but it's bound to come out.'
Poor Jane is let down in a pitiable condition, and Jemima hisses something about 'lying chit' between her teeth, as I assist Mrs. Mansell to tie her to the horse, and having pinned up her skirts, I opened her drawers so as fully to expose the snow-white beauties of her fine rump.
sir eyre. – 'Open them as wide as possible, Rosa; the mean creature, to let others suffer for her own crime, and even take delight in helping to punish them.'
jemima. – 'It's all a lie, Sir Eyre, I never had anything to do with it, and they have turned round on me so they may enjoy the sight of my flogging. Oh! oh! this is a cruel house, pay me my wages and let me go.'
sir eyre, chuckling. – 'You'll get your wages, or at least your deserts, you sneaking wretch.'
jemima (is crimson with shame and fury), exclaiming- 'I'm not so much a sneak as somebody else who's done it; I'll die before I own what I never did.'
sir eyre. – 'Don't let us waste any more time on the obstinate hussey. Let's try what a good birch will do,' slashing her two or three times severely on her bottom, and bringing out the rosy flush all over the surface of its firm broad cheeks.
'See how her bottom blushes for her,' laughed the General, 'but it will soon have to weep blood,' increasing the force of his blows, and drawing weals at every stroke.
jemima. – 'Oh! Oh! Sir Eyre! how can you believe a lying girl like Jane, won't I box her ears for her when I get over this, the spiteful thing, to say it's me!'
sir eyre. – 'You're the spiteful one. Will you box her ears? Do you really mean that, you strong, impudent donkey! I shall soon have to try something better than a birch on you, it's not severe enough; you shall beg Jane's pardon before I've done with you; you may be strong and tough, but we'll master that somehow; how do you like it? I hope you don't feel it, Jemima; I don't think you do, or you would be more penitent,' said he, in a fury. 'I wish I had a good bramble here to tear your bottom with, perhaps you might feel that.'
jemima. – 'Oh! No! Pray don't. I didn't do it, and wouldn't have done such a thing to my worst enemy. Oh! Oh! Sir! Have mercy, I'm being murdered. You'll bleed me to death,' as she feels the blood trickling down her thighs.
sir eyre. – 'You're too bad to be easily killed. Why don't you confess, you wicked creature?' Then turning to Mrs. Mansell: 'Don't you think, ma'am, she's got too many things on? I am not given to cruelty, but this is a case requiring greater severity than usual.'
mrs. mansell. – 'Shall we reduce her to her chemise and drawers, so you can administer the extreme penalty?'
sir eyre. – 'Yes! Yes! It will give a little time to recover my breath. She's taken all the strength out of me.'
We now strip all her petticoats off, and undo her stays, fully displaying the large fine plump globes of her splendid bosom, with their pretty pink nipples; then she is fastened up again, and stands with her wrists fastened well above her head. She has her fawn-coloured kid gloves, and the net, as usual, up to her elbows, so as to set off her arms and hands to the best advantage. She has nothing but chemise and drawers to hide her fine figure; but before commencing again, the General orders the latter to be entirely removed and her chemise to be pinned up to the shoulders; then turning to me, he said:
'Rosa, my dear, it's all through that wicked young woman you have been punished. I don't wish to teach anyone to revenge themselves, but as Mrs. Mansell is hardly well enough, and I am in want of a little more rest, I think you could take this whip,' handing me a fine ladies' switch, with a little piece of knotted cord at the end. 'There, you know how to use it; don't spare any part of her bottom or thighs.'
This was just what I had been longing for, but did not like to volunteer. With a glance of triumph towards poor Jane (who was gradually getting over her own punishment, and beginning to take interest in what was going forward), I took the whip, and placed myself in position to commence. What a beautiful sight my victim presented, her splendid plump back, loins, and buttocks fully exposed to view, whilst the red wealed flesh of her bottom, smeared with blood, contrasted so nicely with her snow-white belly in front, ornamented on the Mons Veneris with a profusion of soft curly hair of a light sandy colour; and her legs being fixed widely apart, I could see her pink bottom-hole, and the pouting lips of her cunny just underneath; further down stretched the splendid expanse of her well-developed thighs, as white as her belly; then she was also dressed in crimson silk stockings, pretty garters and fawn-coloured slippers to match her gloves. My blood seemed to boil at the sight of so much loveliness, which I longed to cut into ribbons of wealed flesh and blood.
SIR eyre. – 'Go on, Rosie, what makes you so slow to begin? You can't do too much to such an obstinate thing; try and make her beg Jane's pardon.'
rosa. – 'She looks very nice, but I'm afraid the whip will cut her up so, grandfather. Now, Jemima, I'm going to begin, does that hurt you?' giving her a light cut on her tender thighs, where the tip of the whip left a very plain red mark.
jemima. – 'Oh! Oh! Miss Rosa, be merciful; I've never been unkind to you; how nicely I rode you on my back when you were punished.'
rosa. – 'Yes! and enjoyed the fun all the time, you cruel thing; you knew what I was getting, but I could tell you were delighted to horse me,' giving three or four smart cuts across her loins, and registering every blow with a fine angry-looking weal. 'There! There! There! Ask my pardon, and Jane's pardon for your threats. Will you box her ears, will you!' cutting sharply at every question in some unexpected part; no two strokes follow each other in the same place.
victim. – 'A – r-r – re, have mercy. I was sorry for you,
Miss Rosie. Oh! You're as hard as Sir Eyre. You'll cut me to pieces with that whip,' she sobs out, her face crimson with the conflicting emotions of fear, rage, and obstinacy.
rosa. – 'Now, Jemima, your only chance is to beg our pardon, and confess your crime; you know you did it, you know you did it, you obstinate wench,' cutting the flesh in every direction, and making the blood flow freely all down the thighs on to her stockings.
The victim writhes and shrieks with pain at every blow, but refuses to admit her fault, or beg pardon. The sight of her sufferings seemed to nerve my arm, and add to my excitement, the blood seemed delicious in my eyes, and I gradually worked myself up, so that I felt such gushing thrilling sensations as to quite overcome me. The whip was dropped in exhaustion, and I sank back on a seat in a kind of lethargic stupor, yet quite conscious of all that was going on.
sir eyre. – 'Why, Rosie, I thought you were stronger than that. Poor thing, your punishment was too much for you. I'll finish the culprit. If she won't confess, she must be executed, that's all,' snatching up another whip, much heavier than the one I had used, and with three tips of cord on the end. 'You won't confess, won't you, you obstinate wicked creature? My blood boils when I think how I punished the other two innocent girls,' he exclaimed, cutting her fearfully on the calves of her legs, knocking the delicate silk of the stockings to pieces, and wealing and bruising her legs all over. The victim cannot plunge about, as her ankles are fastened, but she moans with agony, and shrieks and sobs hysterically in turns at this terrible attack. The General seems beside himself with rage, for he next turns to her beautiful white shoulders, and slashes them about, fearfully cutting through the skin and deluging poor Jemima with her own blood.
sir eyre. – 'I shall murder her; I can't help it; she's made me quite mad.' His cuts wind round her ribs, and even weal the beauties of her splendid bosom, and stains the snowy belly with their blood.
jemima (in low broken sobs). – 'Oh! Oh! Mercy! Let me die! Don't torture an innocent thing like me any longer.' She seems going to faint, when Mrs. Mansell interposes, saying: 'It is enough; more may do serious injury.'
sir eyre (gasping for breath). – 'Oh! Oh! I know you are right to take me away, or I shall really murder her.'
The bleeding victim is a pitiable and terrible sight as we release her from the ladder; she is scarcely able to stand; her boots covered with blood, and little pools of the sanguineous fluid stand on the floor; and we had to administer a cordial before she was able to be supported to her room, where she was confined to her bed for several days.
