Ruled by the Rod (4 page)

'But know you,
I am consumed with that malignant force that you and your sisters,
like all women, let loose into the world, and drives men to deeds
unworthy of their near divine status. For does not the book say
that God has placed men near to angels, and Eve must go guilty
forever? It is my intention therefore, to have you draw this poison
from my system, by the suction of your rear passage, a foul
receptacle for a foul discharge, and of the utmost appropriateness
since you must bear the responsibility for its upsurgence in the
first place. You may well find it causes you pain. Accept that pain
into your body and give thanks that you are privileged to bear it,
while you go some way to right the wrong you have caused me, and
all men.'

My father's
words overwhelmed me with their force and wisdom, and obediently I
submitted myself to his advances, happy to have been given this
opportunity to make amends for my evil effect on him, and offer up
the sacrifice of my pain in expiation.

I think he
must have anointed his manly weapon when he went back to his desk,
for besides being bright red, it glistened with some oily
substance, which was another proof of his wisdom as, without it, he
would have been hard put to it to have penetrated me. As it was he
hurt me considerably as he forced the head past my sphincter ring,
adding to my discomfort by his steely grip on my so recently
flogged buttocks. I could not but cry out in shocked gasps as he
forced me deeper, until his belly, with its covering of coarse
hair, was rubbing on those same tender welts. I wondered how to
suction the venom from his loins, but he solved the problem for me
by pulling his great rod most of the way out of my bowel, before
thrusting it back in up to the hilt. I soon learnt to contract my
belly, and my sphincter, as he withdrew, relaxing them again to
ease his re-entry, an action similar I believe to that of milking a
cow's teat. I seemed to have made a satisfactory choice of
behaviour for very shortly his motion quickened, his breath became
shorter, as the venom tried to resist my efforts to extract it, and
then I felt the foulness leave his body and spurt in hot jets into
my unworthy belly. I felt proud and grateful to have been of such
service to my papa, though I must admit, a trifle sore. But what
was that compared with the good I had been privileged to do.

I was even
more certain of my good fortune in being able to render this
assistance to my parent, when I sensed the magnitude of the relief
he enjoyed in being freed from that hateful feminine contagion. So
great it was that he collapsed, quite overcome, onto my back, and
lay there panting with his new found peace of mind. I gladly bore
his weight until he came to himself enough to rise and adjust his
dress. Well satisfied with my work, I waited, as in duty bound,
until dismissed, before attempting to rise myself.

I had always
found it presented some difficulty, getting down from the chair and
assuming my drawers, since one's welts made for painful bending,
and even the touch of the thin cotton fabric could be uncomfortable
where the skin was particularly abraded. But now I found myself
suffering additionally, from the swollen and inflamed state of my
anus. Though dear papa had shown great consideration in greasing
that portion through which the evil essence had been drawn out, the
procedure had abraded the ring of my sphincter, and it was painful
when the cheeks of my buttocks closed on it. As I made an awkward
exit, my legs shuffling in a curious gait, I recognised the way
Marion had moved the night before, and it dawned on me that she,
too, had been granted the boon of drawing out the foulness that
sapped papa's strength and spirituality.

I was not
jealous. Marion and I have always been close and shared everything,
so why not this? I did not think Charlotte had yet been so
privileged, but would welcome her as an equal when her time came.
In the meantime, I resolved, this should be a secret between Marion
and I. It would be unfair to let Charlotte know what rewarding
service she was missing.

I dragged
myself to my room and, presently, Marion and Charlotte came by to
render me the same service that Marion had received the previous
night. I must, however, admit with feelings of guilt, that I made
no move to deflect the comforting applications of cold compresses,
warm flannels, and emollient creams, that my dear sisters used to
mitigate my sufferings. I am but a weak vessel compared to Marion,
and backslider that I am, took no care that I should feel my
chastisement to the last degree, as a truly repentant female
should.

As Marion's
hand gently drew a warm and soapy flannel through the divide of my
buttocks, wiping away the ooze from my anus, she and I exchanged
looks that told each other of our understanding, and mutely made
compact to leave Charlotte ignorant of the nature of our hidden
service, until her own time came to partake.

For the next
few days our daily routine, including the freezing douche under the
stable pump each dawn, continued to take its usual course
including, naturally, a summons for Charlotte to attend on papa,
two evenings after my own visit, for she had last been corrected
about seven days before, and papa held that a woman left unwhipped
for more than a week had fallen so far into the devil's clutches
that she could only be reclaimed by such a flogging as to render
her unable to ease her soul by full and proper labour, and he had
too much affection for his daughters to risk the need to subject
them to such a deprivation.

When Charlotte
returned from her correction she seemed in some distress of mind,
as well as of body. It did not take long to discover that she had
been disconcerted by papa's need to use her buttocks to draw out
the troubling matter in his body. I saw then the infinite wisdom of
our protector, in choosing to confer the privilege of such service
on Marion and myself first, before offering Charlotte the same
benison. Our middle sister had always been the slowest to
understand the deeply religious and philosophical basis for the
disciplines we lived under, and by making us privy to his thinking
first, he was able to ensure that we would be able, and from
experience, to explain to our slower sister the benefits we both
conferred, and had conferred on us in return. By the time we had
treated her hurts, and soothed her sores, Charlotte was able to
accept the truth of what he taught as readily as we did
ourselves.

Two days later
we saw the first results of our visit to the saddler, a visit whose
purpose had escaped us up until now. A boy on a pony delivered a
package, which Marion took straight to papa. When she returned a
little later she still bore the package, although now it had been
opened, presumably so that papa could satisfy himself that the
contents were as he prescribed.

Marion invited
us to remove our drawers, reaching down at the same time to draw
off, and discard, her own. Reaching into the package she drew out,
and distributed, three sets of curious restraints. Each consisted
of a pair of leather lined steel bands, joined by a short length of
chain. Each band was engraved with an M, an A, or a C, to identify
the wearer for whom it was intended, and I remembered that Mr Foxis
had measured us most particularly round every conceivable part of
our bodies.

Marion
explained.

It appeared
that papa had consulted with various learned friends on the
troublesome effects of the female presence in a house of Godliness,
and had been advised, amongst other things, to reduce our physical
mobility as far as was compatible with allowing us the beneficial
influence of hard work on our domestic duties. 'Papa said,' she
went on, 'that all the authorities agree it is lack of restraint
that contributes most to the waywardness of women and, hence, to
the debilitation and degradation of men they come into contact
with. We are therefore to clasp the bands around our lower limbs,
just below the knee, where we garter our stockings. The chain will
then ensure we do not betray our womanhood by striding like a man,
or running at any time.'

We each donned
our allotted restraint, and tried the effect of walking. It was
possible, with care, to walk fairly freely about the kitchen,
simulating the performance of typical duties, but one's progress
was slow unless one made very rapid steps.

Ascending
stairs was an entirely different matter, and at first we were
baffled by the problem. But a little trial and error soon taught us
that, by turning one knee in against the other, that foot could be
swung up onto the first step, and the process repeated either with
the same foot or its companion, and the stairs might be negotiated
fairly readily, but with either a halting step or a strange
twisting motion. No matter, we would be able to provide papa with
his meals in his room, and those other services we were learning to
render him, and reach our own bedrooms too.

It appeared
that papa intended that we should wear these devices day and night,
hence the removal of our drawers, and that we would no longer have
any need for such garments in the future. Apparently one of his
learned friends, a medical man, was of the opinion that a woman's
genitals should be kept open to the air, for health and sanitation,
though a napkin might be worn when our time of the month was on
us.

The saddler
had done a fine job of measuring and manufacture, and the bands
clasped us firmly, but not so tightly as to interfere with
circulation. The leather was soft, thick, and had rounded edges so
as not to chafe us, though we found that with continuous use they
did dig into our flesh a little, especially if we forgot the humble
gait that had been impressed upon us, and brought ourselves to a
jarring stop by overstepping the length of chain. The bands were
closed by pushing one end into a slot in a boss formed on the rear.
When the ends were fully home an internal spring catch engaged, and
the band could not be removed without cutting through it; an almost
impossible task for us, the band being tempered steel and we bereft
of locksmiths tools. Not that we have attempted such a violation of
our father's command to wear them day and night, but it was somehow
comforting to know that, even away from his presence, he had actual
physical control of our persons. I think we all basked in an added
feeling of security as we tested our new fetters. We even welcomed
the fact that they were steel, and would require to be regularly
scoured to keep them rust free and shining, especially after our
outdoor ablutions, the sense of participating in our own restraint
adding to our proper feelings of submission.

That evening
we were all summoned to papa's study. It was one of those rare
occasions when no one of us was subjected to his rod. He contented
himself with having us draw our skirts up to our thighs so that he
could inspect our newly acquired curbs, checking them for tightness
and security, and having us move about to demonstrate the limits on
our mobility.

We settled
into our established routine, although a slightly different pattern
was emerging. We found ourselves summoned to receive papa's
guidance, and relieve his troubled spirit, on a more regular basis,
each of us being required to attend him at weekly intervals, and in
the order of our births. I do not know which was more trying for
our nerves, the uncertainty that had prevailed before, or the near
certainty that one could predict one's correction and service to
the day.

It was not
long before the saddler's efforts bore further fruit. Soon we found
ourselves wearing high collars, constructed on the same principles
as those below our knees, but of such a width that they fitted from
the collarbone to the jaw-line, where a roll edge ensured we were
not too severely chafed. But we were obliged to keep our chins up
and our heads held high. It was providential that our fetters were
delivered some time in advance of the collars, as we had had some
time to master the art of placing our feet on rough ground while
constrained to tiny steps. And more particularly, we had perfected
the mode of ascending stairs by turning in one knee against the
other, and could manage it competently without the need to look
down, which the collars, of course, made quite impossible.

On one
occasion, Charlotte had the temerity to make some remark to papa
about the apparent biblical condemnation of the stiff-necked. She
was still inclined to behave in a somewhat forward fashion, and
papa, I believe, did her no service by occasionally indulging her.
On this occasion, however, he rebuked her for her questioning of
his judgement in the matter, and ordered her to attend him the next
night - that evening already reserved for myself - even though it
was but three days since she had last been corrected, and that
severely. She dropped her eyes in submission, though her chin was
still held firmly aloft.

Gradually his
plan for us, based on his own fine intellect and the advice of
those wise and learned friends he consulted, unfolded before us.
His intent to keep our femininity in check while maintaining our
availability for labour and service, also included certain devices
to be worn about our persons. These would constantly impinge upon
our flesh in such a way as to keep us reminded of our corporal
weaknesses and cleanse our minds to think, as much as women can, of
spiritual things. Though not really a High Churchman, he professed
to a great admiration for some of the enclosed orders of nuns.
Especially the more strict Spanish convents, and their solution to
the problem of the uncleanness of women and their contagion of men,
by rigid discipline and regular mortification of the flesh.

To this end he
had commissioned from the saddler several more useful items.
Firstly we were each given a saddle strap to wear. This consisted
of another reinforced belt, fitting as snugly round our waists as
our other gear about our necks and knees. From it depended a chain,
which was passed through the legs, the lips of our vulvas being
parted to receive it the more deeply, then drawn up between our
rear cheeks to snap into a fastening at the rear of the belt. When
the fastening was pushed home to the last click of the locking
spring, the chain cut deep into our softest parts.