The Prussian Girls Read Online Free PDF Page A

frightened. Tears of vexation prickled at her eyes and she did not want her mentor to see them. It was unjust. She did not think she needed thrashing for… that It would teach her nothing. Except, except blind obedience to… the rules.
    “There,” she said at last, stepping out of her knickers which made miserable wrinkles on a table, “Do they look bare enough for the whip like that? Do you think Wedell will bring me to my senses through my backside?” She thrust it out, warm and rosy.
    “Is Wedell going to do it?”
    Ingeborg Untermacher contemplated the lifted pan of skirt and the rump it revealed. Above the boot-tops, Maria showed a well-cheeked, close-set sit-upon, at the base of which curled back a tendril of dry dark hair. The elder mistress gave it an impish tug.
    “Darling. Don't take it so hard.”
    “Oh Inge!” She flung herself round, and into the other's arms. “I'm so frightened. Will it hurt dreadfully?”
    “Dreadfully, I fear.”
    “How many will it be, do you know?”
    “From what you've told me… well, I don't truly know. I suspect it'll be the cane.” She paused a minute, and added, “An Army cane. Like they use at Duty Hour.”
    “Oh of course,” Maria laughed sarcastically and not a little hysterically, “how would I feel it else? Do I look nice and penitent doubled, darling?”
    So saying, and flipping her skirt over her back, she bent and touched her toes. Ingeborg contemplated the round and sturdy hips, diamonded with the well-haired fig of flesh at bisection of the thighs; she saw the unusually deeply dimpled anal bud, all a crinkled brown, and she wondered if now was the time to tell her charge certain other things…
    “Don't be silly, Maria. Come over here and let me pour you out a glass of wine.”
    But it was not to be. As the carafe tinkled, there came a knock at the door. Far sooner than expected. The Head worked fast.
    “Already?” she moaned sickly.
    “Herein!” called Ingeborg curtly and a maid came in, tall also and dressed in a short black satin costume with lawn apron spotless at her lap.
    “Frau Direktrice…”
    “I know, I know,” Maria said irritably, “she wants to see me. I seem to be rather popular in the East Wing tonight.” She tossed her head and tossed her skirt. “Te morituri…”
    “I'll be here when you come back,” Inge whispered gently as Maria Daunitz followed the totally impassive maid.
    She walked as she was supposed to walk, absolutely expressionless and in total silence, her shoulders back. She noted with a tremor, however, that these landings were empty, and that at each stair she passed stood another maid, face turned away, as sentinel. In short, the floor was “cleared” when a mistress was flogged. No one should see her going or coming. This time the maid led Maria up the usual steps to the Directress' wing, but instead of stopping at her door turned left along another corridor, neighboring. Here she halted at last, at another door, that of the Head's personal Chastisement Chamber. She dropped a curtsey and Maria remembered that she was supposed to have brought a coin; it was a custom to tip the maid taking you to correction a thaler at Rutenberg, it seemed.
    “I'm sorry, Helen,” she said. “I forgot. I'll… I'll give it you after.”
    “Oh, it doesn't matter, Miss. And if I may,” the girl gave a sweetly shy smile, “I'd like to hope it won't hurt too much.”
    “I have an idea that it will though, don't you?” And chucking the girl under the chin she knocked.
    There were three figures in this room which, like the Duty, was rectangular, barren, high-vaulted, but in this case brilliantly lit. Chandeliers hung overhead. Under one stood the Head, divested of her jacket, her frilled stock and gilet much in evidence. Beside her stood white-tunicked Wedell and in front of them both, with her back to the entrant, was big Else Gundling.
    Maria curtseyed profoundly. “You sent for me, Frau Direktrice?”
    “You stand accused