Ruled by the Rod (15 page)

Advancing to
the bent buttocks on the horse, the overseer laid the rod across to
measure her spot. I watched the taut rounds clench at the contact,
as I knew my own did, rebelliously, despite my constant resolve to
take my punishments wide open to the rod. I would suppose that this
young woman, though my own age, had had less frequent acquaintance
with such a rod. The overseer's arm drew back, raising the rod to
shoulder height, gaining room for a full-blooded stroke, then
brought it whistling down, cutting the air with a ripping sound
before sinking into the soft white flesh with a sound like some
monstrous twig snapping.

As the dire
length of yellow rattan bit into the pale buttocks, with a sound
that sent fearful spasms through my belly, and I am sure, through
those of my sisters too, for we had heard it so often welting our
own rounds, the young woman jerked in her bonds and gasped at the
shock of the impact, then drew in her breath, hissing with the pain
but bravely trying to endure it without crying out.

A short pause
and again the cane sang as it flew down to cut the buttocks, a
finger's width below the dark red line that had sprung up across
their fullest part after the first stroke. Again the girl gasped
and sucked her breath, but she hung on despite the pain that I
knew, only too well, a rod such as this could raise in a woman's
flesh. She endured a further four strokes with no more reaction,
and the set of six blackening bars formed a broad band across her
lower buttock, from its centre down to near her thigh tops.

The overseer
handed the cane to another, who took it in her left hand, and
stepped to the bending woman's right. Now the strokes were to come
from the other side, and overlay the first set. The first of these
new strokes seemed to take the victim by surprise. I think she may
have been too taken up with her throbbing aching haunches to
realise the change had taken place, or what it portended. Whatever
the case, she squealed as the cane bit into her ripening welts, and
moaned as the pain flooded back after the first shock. But she was
a courageous young woman, and collected herself rapidly, adjusting
to the new assault and taking the next stroke and the four that
followed with only a little more sound than her first six.

Admittedly, a
grunted 'ugh' accompanied each searing cut, but she held back from
crying out openly, and only moaned a little between the strokes as
she lay absorbing the pulsing agony that builds as the blood creeps
back into the bruised flesh.

Now the first
overseer took back the cane and stood to the left side. She
directed her strokes rather lower than before, more or less on that
slight fatty crease that divides the overhanging buttock flesh from
a woman's thighs. It is, as I can testify from much experience of
the same, a spot most sensitive to the rod, and seeming to burn in
a manner less easy to bear than higher up the hinds. The
unfortunate bride bent over the horse certainly found it so, for
she gave a choked cry at each stroke, 'aaahing' and 'ooohing' in
acknowledgement of the anguish she was suffering but, nevertheless,
still maintaining something of her control.

She almost
lost it when the second overseer took her from the right,
overlapping the previous welts, but at least it did not come as a
surprise this time. And although her cries at the impacts were
urgent, still they might not be judged to be true screams, though
she was sobbing now between.

When it was
finished her buttocks was a mass of thick purple ropes, the twenty
welts from her 'birthday present' difficult to distinguish.

She had shown
amazing fortitude. Many times I'd had twenty and more strokes from
papa or one of the guardians, but I doubt I could have sustained
that score of searching cuts without conceding screams and shrieks
of agony. Indeed, I felt quite sick thinking of it, and quite
irrationally feared that I might be called upon to take her place;
so much so that my knees trembled and my heart pounded in my
breast.

As the
reluctant bride was led away, her spine arched back in a bow of
anguish, her bent legs hardly able to support her, her feet
shuffling with her lameness as her bruised buttocks stiffened, I
distracted myself from the nightmares in my mind of bending in her
place, by turning my attention to the conversation between the
chief wardress and the judge.

'A fine
correction, well laid on,' said he. 'She'll be glad birthdays come
but once a year.'

The wardress
gave a smile that made me tremble anew at the horror of falling
into her hands.

'Indeed, your lordship,
her
birthday has passed. But her new husband, whom she
has treated so shamefully, will pass his twenty-second year next
week and, just two days before her forty with us are up, her
mother-in-law will be five and forty. I think she will
remember
that
birthday.'

The afternoon
had almost gone while we had watched the birthday celebrations, and
it was time for the work parties to return. We watched from the
wardress's office window on the first floor as they came in. The
gates were opened to allow in a number of rough carts. In each sat
a score of women, ten along each side, their right ankles fastened
to a chain that ran down the bed of the wagon. As the gates were
shut behind them and the carts halted in the yard, the chains were
released, and the weary women stumbled out of the crude
conveyances.

They were
indescribably worn and dirty. Their short gowns, which were all
they wore, were caked with mud and grime, and stuck to their bodies
with their own sweat. Their hands were foul and worn also, their
nails broken, their palms blistered, their feet cut and bleeding,
for they had no shoes, though a few had found scraps of sacking in
which to wrap themselves against the hardness of the road. For they
had been on the road gangs.

The turnpike
was crossing the county and the authorities had prudently helped to
defray the cost of their keep in the penitentiary by hiring out the
women to the contractors, to clear the path of the new road, to
break stone for its bed, to dig cuttings and pile up embankments,
to fetch and carry like beasts of burden, for it is well known that
women are particularly well adapted, by their physiology, to
carrying burdens.

I have never
seen such worn and weary creatures, and applauded the good sense of
those in charge for devising so effective a way of combining good
husbandry with a regime that so obviously achieved its aim of
introducing fallen women to honest toil.

When the last
of the draggled and exhausted creatures had dragged herself off for
the frugal evening fare, before 'lock up' for the night in their
solitary cells, our guardians began to offer their thanks to the
chief wardress and prepare for our departure.

'But will you
not stay for the Spanish horse, sirs?' she asked. 'I think you will
find it instructive.'

Nothing if not
eager seekers after knowledge, our guardians at once asked her for
details of this strange sounding beast, and she, anxious to please
such worthy curiosities, set about an explanation.

It was, it
seems, a form of punishment designed to 'break' even the most
recalcitrant soul. It was generally reserved for those who fought
the prison discipline, encouraging by their example lesser sinners
who might otherwise have bent the knee and bowed the head before
their keepers. There was just such a bad influence in the prison
now; a widow of about seven and thirty, a fine strapping woman who
had determined to carry on her late husband's trade of corn
merchant in his place. The local growers and merchants viewed the
development with some alarm. Not only was her unwomanly descent
into trade in itself an affront, but she was also proving to be so
astute that their own businesses were suffering. Their opportunity
came when she was discovered entertaining the young women of the
district to tea, and encouraging them to think of similarly going
into lucrative trades, as she did. Worse still, it was reported
that she had bolstered her case by remarking what dolts men were,
and citing cases of business follies committed by their own fathers
and brothers.

Such a thing
could not be allowed, of course, for what would become of society
if women were to put themselves forward as the equals of men. Such
behaviour was flying in the face of nature and damaging to the
fabric of society.

She was
brought before a magistrate, who had little difficulty in being
persuaded that her behaviour constituted corruption of minors and
trying to take the girls out of the care and control of their
fathers; how could any right thinking man conclude otherwise. At
first it was suggested that, as no sane person could possibly argue
that women were the equals of men, she should be committed to the
local Bedlam for the insane, but wiser counsel prevailed. If judged
insane her business would be run by trustees, and still carry her
name. It was judged better to hold her responsible for her actions,
so that she might be committed to hard labour in the women's house
of correction for two years. And fined so heavily that she was
ruined, thus proving that a woman was quite incompetent to run such
a business, as it collapsed after only a year in her hands.

Though she
should have learnt her lesson, and tried to redeem herself through
meek and obedient service, she had continued to sow the evil seeds
of her misguided philosophy among the vulnerable minds in the
penitentiary. She had been flogged almost insensible twice, and
still continued to drip her poison. Now the end of the road had
been reached, and she was to be broken finally to the bridle of
prison discipline. The doctor, always the technician, asked for an
explanation of how this would be achieved, but the wardress was
sparing of details, saying it could be appreciated best by viewing
it in action.

Accordingly we
delayed our departure, and followed the wardress back to the
punishment hall. To a side we had overlooked before stood an
innocuous looking device; a simple structure of two sloping sides,
constructed of narrow horizontal planks, each side about four feet
long and a yard apart at the base, and leaning towards each other
until they met at a point about four feet from the floor. The top
planks met at a sharp edge, stained somewhat about halfway along,
as were the sides below in a pattern like to a saddle. At the foot,
on either side, were rings with long thin straps. The only other
features of this innocent device were two vertical poles that were
fastened to each end face of the apparatus, and projected about
three feet above the top edge.

While we were
puzzling over the manner of employment of the strange structure,
two overseers arrived, marching between them the merchant woman so
careless of her condition as to rate herself an equal of men and
who, what is more, had attempted to disseminate her poisonous
doctrine to innocent and impressionable females, seducing them from
the proper duty they owed their fathers, brothers or husbands as
may be.

As the
wardress had said, she was a fine looking woman, the more pity she
should have disgraced her sex so. She displayed a mature figure,
though not fat by any means, with high rounded buttocks and firm
breasts of an excellent shape, and tipped with large red teats, for
as soon as she came to the Spanish horse she was ordered to remove
her one garment, and stand naked before us. Although it seemed
usual for women in the punishment hall to be deprived of their
gowns, on the grounds that they were rendered more accessible for
the overseers' straps, I believe that in this case it was done more
to humble the haughty spirit.

First the
woman's hands were bound behind her back, each wrist to just above
the elbow of the other arm, and a collar, with two long cords
depending from it, was fastened round her neck. During all these
preparations the prisoner stood quite quietly, offering no word of
protest, seemingly resigned to her fate though showing no sign of
fear or repentance, looking in front of her with her head held
high.

'That is a
stiff neck,' observed the chief wardress, 'but I'll wager she'll
bend it by morning.'

Now two stools
were placed, one on either side of the horse, and the still proud
prisoner invited to mount. With a look of disdain she stepped up
onto the one, and swung her leg over the top of the horse, to rest
on the other.

'Put your cunt
to the rail,' ordered an overseer.

We recoiled
somewhat at the coarse expression, but perhaps it was appropriate
for such an evil sinner.

Once more she
obeyed, bending her knees, until the sharp upper edge of the device
was pressing at her entrance. As she came in contact, the overseer
used her fingers to part the plump lips between her thighs, until
they lay either side of the V that formed the top edge. Next they
took the cords hanging from the collar, and attached them near the
tops of the two posts at either end of the horse, leaving just a
little slack, and went to stand either side of the horse.

At a nod from
their superior, each pulled out one of the stools on which the
woman stood, letting her weight fall fully on her crotch which,
until then, had only partially supported her. She gasped as she
felt the wood cut into her soft parts, but still made no protest.
It seems she was fully aware of the futility of pleading or
remonstrating with her correctors, since it would sway them not a
jot, and she preferred to maintain her dignity in the face of
adversity.

The overseers
wound a strap round each shapely ankle, pulling them tight until
her legs were stretched taut on either side, and adjusted the cords
to her collar so that she could lean but little, forwards or back.
The pull on her legs, and the cords to her collar, ensured that she
could not cast herself sideways, and she must remain upright until
she might be released, able only to adjust her position by but a
small degree, and must needs sit on her tender female parts.