Rectory of Correction Read Online Free PDF Page A

while. Still, I’ll warrant they will offer scant protection, so I’ll not fight you for them, just this once.’
    His hand stopped feeling her. There was a pause, then a sort of whuffling noise. Charlotte heard the crack of belt on bottom flesh an instant before she felt the scalding pain.
    â€˜Aaooow...!’
    It was simply indescribable. Her bottom seemed to be on fire.
    â€˜Tsk, tsk, Charlotte, I had heard you were a terrible little tartar. I expected more fortitude, for I have barely kissed your pretty bottom yet with my strap!’
    There was another horrid whuffling and another white-hot flash of pain. Charlotte got her right hand protectively over her seared bottom. There was another crack and then her fingers were ablaze. ‘Ah, oh, aaoow!’
    â€˜Foolish child. Put your hands back and I will belt them for you. I should grip the front of the desk, if I were you.’
    Charlotte was not quite beaten. She struggled violently, for all that this meant her hair felt as if it was being pulled out by the roots. She put her left hand back and got an agonising crack across the knuckles for her trouble. Another stroke impacted hard across her upper thighs. The pain was so intense she could not even gasp for a few seconds. After that, she could do nothing except follow his suggestion. She leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the desk, screwed her eyes shut, and gritted her teeth.
    Crack !
    â€˜Aaooowww...!’
    â€˜That is a little better, Lady Charlotte. Hold that position for me, there’s a good girl.’
    Crack !
    â€˜Oh, oh, God .’
    Her bottom felt as if it had been boiled. Charlotte had never experienced such intense pain. She could think of nothing but how she might get him to desist. Pride, anger and determination seemed to have had been utterly annihilated by the strap’s venomous tails.
    â€˜Oh, please sir, please, oooh, I cannot...! Please stop, have mercy. I’ll do as you say!’
    A particularly wicked stroke of the tawse impacted on already welted flesh, and Charlotte lost the power of speech altogether for a moment. All she could do was clutch the desk edge until her knuckles were quite white, stamp her feet and emit a strangulated grunt of utter agony.
    â€˜I am so glad that you have reconsidered your attitude, my dear.’
    There was another heart-stopping whuffle, and Charlotte’s thighs were ablaze with pain. She was powerless to stop the tears that coursed down her cheeks, and quite beyond feeling ashamed of so craven a display.
    â€˜For obedience will, undoubtedly, make your stay here much more pleasant.’
    Another sharp retort echoed around the study as the tawse tails bit her bottom. Charlotte felt the pain rip through her, so intense she was unable even to shriek.
    â€˜Corporal correction will be your regular lot, even if you essay to obey.’
    â€˜Ah, ah, oh, oh, p-please, sir...’
    Crack !
    Charlotte hissed in agony as her scalded thighs were stung again. If she survived this ordeal, she realised in a panic, she would never dare to disobey this man again.
    â€˜But,’ the Reverend Dawes continued, in his casual, conversational way, ‘should you be disobedient it will be very much the worse for you. I shall have your obeisance and compliance, madam.’
    The final stroke across the centre of her bottom was so vicious that Charlotte was engulfed by a red rip-tide of pain. She leaped up like a flushed pheasant, gripping her blistered buttocks in both hands and making a strange, deep-throated gurgling sound. She fell, or perhaps tripped on her voluminous skirts and collapsed on the study floor.
    Charlotte could barely register anything except the incandescent agony of her welted flesh. She lay on the study carpet, clutching her rear and writhing like an eel as she gasped with shock. After a minute or so the pain began to subside, terribly slowly. An appalled awareness of her situation stole into her soul.
    The