pumping his inhaler. Who would believe so upright a man to be a martyr to asthma? At last Dr. Thwackum seemed suddenly to overcome his moral grief at Elke's filthy conduct. He strained up abruptly and his hips arched forward a little. There was a long gasp and a shudder as the great man composed his mind once more. (My informants, by the way, apologised for an error. They thought Lady Loosely had mopped the sperm from Elke's bum-cheeks and thighs. Now they saw they were quite wrong. She was still spangled with it when Dr. Thwackum stepped aside.) He studied the state of Elke's bottom carefully and smiled quietly at the scarlet and smarting cheeks. There was no doubt that he intended to birch her without pity. Yet his position was, to say the least, equivocal. What repercussions might follow the birching of a girl on a public beach by the headmaster of one of our great public schools?
A frown of concern furrowed his noble brow for a moment longer.
And then Dr. Thwackum, Canon of Long Sarum, bared his teeth in a grin of triumph. He is not only one of our greatest moralists and educators, but also the most cunning devil who ever failed to win a Fellowship at All Souls. Can you guess what happened, Dolly?
Possess yourself in patience a few hours more. I shall write again by the next post. Your loving Jack.
SEVEN
A delicious comedy with Elke as its victim-Dr. Thwackum brings the well-fucked fraulein back.-His moral outrage at her conduct-The reverend gentleman offers Jack a service-He will birch Elke forthwith using a severity unknown outside our great public schools-Elke's bottom already untouchably sore-Bur she cannot reveal this truth without explaining why and earning worse punishment-Jack's great amusement at her predicament- Elke horsed and birched by Dr.
Thwackum-Her long ordeal-Prick first, birch later -Dr. Thwackum's nightly visits to her to be continued. Dearest Dolly, I would not willingly have left you in suspense. Yet my last letter was of such length and took almost the entire morning to compose.
Therefore I had to break off and attend to my duties here for several hours. This evening I find leisure to continue. As I have told you, Dr. Thwackum had devised in his subtle mind a scheme for enjoying Elke Mahne. It was a far more ambitious lechery than the mere pleasure of a single birching given summarily on the sea shore! He unfastened the girl, made her pull her pants up, and brought her back to me in his own carriage. You see? By comparison with all the others involved, was he not the great moralist? Elke was already in trouble for it was past eight in the evening and she was exactly two hours late. But imagine how my anger grew as she stood before my desk and Dr. Thwackum puffing his cigar in the leather chair told me the story. The little whore had been spying on the schoolboys, unable to take her eyes away for fear of losing a glimpse of penis! She had taken her own pants down and bent with them round her ankles-the easier to masturbate, no doubt, as she viewed each schoolboy's cock!
Indeed, said the reverend doctor, Elke had even stuffed her knickers in her mouth to stifle her cries of excitement. But worse than all this, she had indulged in great and extreme indecency. Some lad-perhaps even one of the doctor's own charges-had pumped his sperm over her at Elke's instigation. He had Lady Loosely's word for it.
Indeed, when Elke was stripped for the birch, as she surely would be, I might see with my own eyes. Happily, Dolly, I had already been privately informed of the afternoons events and this made the comedy all the riper. Elke Mahne stood before me, the high-boned prettiness of her sulky, heart-shaped young face lowered, the lank brown hair falling forward a little. She could not confess the truth of her conduct that afternoon. To do so would be to incur even worse punishment than that which already threatened. But unless she confessed the truth, she could not explain why, in the present state of her adolescent bottom, a birching would be the most appalling torture imaginable. “She must have her backside thrashed, sir!” said Dr. Thwackum from his chair. “Depend upon it, the slut must be thrashed.” I nodded. “To be sure she must, sir. Fifty strokes of the birch across her fat young bottom-cheeks-with her pants down!” “No!” It was Elke's wild beseeching cry which filled the room, “No! Oh, please! Not that! Not tonight! Tomorrow, if you like!
Whatever you like tomorrow! But not tonight! Not yet!” I knew quite well the cause of her wildness and truly relished her predicament. If there was one girl among them all who really deserved what was coming, it was an insolent ill-mannered young whore like Elke. “You will be birched tonight, Elke,” I said firmly, “It is absurd to think that we might postpone it until tomorrow. We do not carry forward our accounts. Perhaps there may be some other offence which causes you to be caned or whipped tomorrow. In that case, we could hardly birch you as well. Dr. Thwackum is quite right. You must be thrashed, and it shall be this evening.” Elke shook her head in wondering horror. It was Dr. Thwackum who intervened. “Permit me, sir. It would be presumptuous in me to offer advice in other circumstances. However, since 'twas I who discovered this young tart and saw the state of her debauchery, I trust you will allow me to speak. Ahem! I should esteem it a great privilege if you would permit me to deal with the fat-bottomed young bitch in this case. There is no man, sir, who can wield the birch with such effect as the headmaster of a great English school. There is none who has such intimate acquaintance with the bare and spread arse-cheeks-that is to say, posterior regions-of the nation's youth. I would venture to suggest that if left alone in the games room, with Elke Mahne horsed over the vaulting buck, I should inflict such chastisement as would leave her a changed girl by tomorrow morning!” I could not for a moment doubt his ardour and sincerity, Dolly. Indeed, had not the pedagogue held his top-hat over his lap, I fear the stiffness in the front of his pants must have caused some embarrassment to him. I thought for a moment. The fine old moralist had been trying for weeks to gain my consent to such a thing. He seemed determined to get to the bottoms of my girls one way or another. Why not let him have a go at Elke? It would at least remove the danger that I should find the arse-cheeks of my own red- haired maid, Sian, cut to ribbons. To tell the truth, I had no other plans for Elke. Let the good doctor see to her. “I should count it an honour, sir, to have your assistance in the matter,” said I. What else I would have said was overwhelmed, Dolly. For on hearing these first words, Elke Mahne shrieked with horror! Now, Dolly, you and I know how much of an actress such a girl can be. Not least when the dramatic tragedy is one which threatens a whipping in reality. Elke covered her face with her hands and let out the most piteous sobs. Yet even I could see that she was peeping slyly through her fingers to calculate the effect of this upon me and that the little bitch was quite dry-eyed! The large exercise-room next to my study is well-equipped with gymnastic devices and was in every respect an admirable place for Dr. Thwackum to practise his moral art. I may also tell you, in confidence, that by sliding a certain little panel across on my own side of the wall, a glass tile the size of a small window is uncovered. It appears to be part of the wall-glazing on the gymnastic side. However, when the bright overhead lights illuminate that side, and my own study remains in darkness, the glass tile affords me a perfect view of the antics in there. I had never intended it for the present purpose, of course, but merely to enjoy the sight of several delectable nymphs at their healthy exercise. Elke walked ahead of her chastiser into that place. Turning her bell of light brown hair from time to time as she walked, she shot him glances of outrage, fear, self-pity, and guile.
All in vain, for the venerable scholar had his gaze fixed upon the two softly moving cheeks under the tight jeans-denim. Once or twice as she looked back, the sly hazel eyes shed an easy tear over the high cheek-bones of her moodily pretty face. The pouting lips made little kissing movements of self-pity and then her mouth was drawn down like a tragic mime as they approached the padded leather vaulting-buck.
Dr. Thwackum locked the door so that they should not be interrupted. He took off his black coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Then Elke was made to undo her jeans and take them off, also the stretched cotton briefs of her panties. Our stern moralist told her to mount astride the padded leather with her young arse almost jutting back over the rear end of it. He made her lie forward very tightly along it and strapped her wrists to the forelegs of the wooden structure, as far down them as the girl could reach. Pulling the hem of her black woollen singlet up to her ribs, he fastened the waist-belt round her bare skin. Last of all he had only to strap her ankles securely to the rear legs of the buck- and there she was.
Straddling the padded leather, thighs and bum-cheeks well parted, rump thrust back for his attention, Elke was perfectly positioned for what came next. As if about to join in some gymnastic exercise himself, the venerable headmaster stripped off his shirt, gaiters, and breeches, until he stood only in a cream woollen body-vest and short pants. His withered old shanks and slack belly were clearly evident.
Elke screwed up her pretty face and gave another dry-eyed and self-pitying little sob. Dr. Thwackum stood
