My curiosity was excited so much, that I listened at the keyhole. Papa was evidently remaining in the governess’s room. I could hear a rustling of her dress, as if some [17] ]little struggle was taking place; a sound of smothered kisses, and soft expostulatory ejaculations, such as, “I dare not! Oh! No! No!! Not now! Pray leave me! Oh! Oh!!” Then an almost perfect quiet, except for a slight rustling sound, and, now and then, broken sighs with heavy breathing.
At last all was quiet, and having now been left more than half-an-hour to myself in the schoolroom, I ventured to tap at the door and beg Miss Birch to let me into her room, as I would never, never, offend again.
After a very slight delay, the door was unlocked, and my governess received me with expressions of great tenderness, kissed her poor Lucille, and hoped my poor bottom was not too sore. Her eyes were melting with what I should now call a soft voluptuous languor, and scintillated with extraordinary brilliancy, all of which set my young ideas in a flutter of wonderment, as to the extraordinary cause of her prolonged emotion.
[18] Things went on pretty smoothly for some time, but I found it quite impossible to avoid coming under the rod every now and then, the chastisement getting more severe on every fresh occasion.
Papa always had to handle the twigs, and when I began to get older, Miss Birch would tie me up and leave the room, as she pretended to be quite unable to bear the scene. Still papa would always go into her sanctum at the conclusion of my whipping, to talk the matter over with my governess.
I will tell you of a fearful birching, the last I had before being sent to the Convent School; it does not matter what the fault was, but it must have been something very serious. Papa and Miss Birch both helped to tie me up on a four poster bed in my own room. I was stripped of every thing but my skirts and drawers, which were all secured and arranged so as to expose my back parts in the best possible manner for whipping. My hands were tied to the bed post [19] ]high above my head, and making me kneel on the bed, one leg was secured at the knee to the same post, my other leg being left free to kick about.
Miss Birch vanished, and papa arming himself with a formidable rood, elegantly trimmed as usual, began by lecturing me on my fault.
“You impudent girl, I can scarcely believe it of you, Lucille, now you are just upon twelve, but this is the last whipping you will get at my hands, and I promise you it shall be a sound one, and then I’ll pack you off to the convent, with instructions to the sisters to be very strict in looking after you.”
“Oh! Oh!! Papa,” I implored, “Have mercy, don’t be so severe, indeed I won’t do it again!”
“Hold your tongue, Miss,” he said, impatiently, “you always cry before you are hurt, but you shall remember this whipping as long as you live;” giving me a slashing [20] ]cut round my loins, then another, and another on each cheek of my buttocks, “how do you like it, you bad girl! will you turn over a new leaf when you leave home? Will you? Will your? Will you? Will you?” Each question being accompanied by a terrific smarter; the blows seemed to cut like a red hot knife, and my boiling blood tingled from the tips of my fingers to the ends of my toes. I could feel great burning bursting weals rising on my skin at every cut; I screamed and plunged till the bed-post creaked with the strain, and my wrists and knee were quite pained by the tight ligatures by which they were secured.