by Victor Bruno
“Feeling a bit better, Spencer?” she asked, with condolence in her voice.
“Yes, Ma’am,” I answered. My lower lip quivered and I was near to tears at this unexpected display of kindness and sympathy from her. For a moment I had an almost irresistible urge to throw myself into her arms and rest my head on that magnificently swelling bosom of hers. Fortunately I resisted the impulse. Incidentally, she now wore her more usual blouse and skirt, rather than the revealing leotard, not that the change made her any the less ravishing in my eyes.
I expected her to refer to my punishment again... and to my future behaviour. However, she did not. She continued to regard me in silence, in what I can only describe as a ‘motherly’ sort of way. Not that my feelings towards her could exactly be described as those of a son. Unless I had been an incestuous son!
“Spencer,” she said at last. “I have some news for you.”
My heart gave a little jump. Madame Maxine’s news was rarely of the pleasant kind.
“Yes, Ma’am?” I said, trying to look both respectful and meek. Never did I want to incur the wrath of this remarkable woman again.
“I have been having a long talk with your mother,” she went on, “and both of us have come to a decision.”
My heart seemed to have gone to my throat, and was pounding there madly. I had an awful inkling of what might be coming.
“She had decided it would be best for you if you became a boarder,” she said.
My heart seemed to shrivel and, no doubt, I went white. I know I began to shiver uncontrollably. Oh God, to be in that place permanently! I was too paralysed to say anything.
“You see,” said Madame Maxine calmly, “your mother can see what amazing progress you have made under my direction... so she is of the opinion that you will improve even further when we have a more permanent relationship.”
She smiled at me sweetly, but, not for the first time that day, I felt near to childish tears. How could my dear mother have done this to me? How could she have deserted me?
But, in my heart I knew the answer. Mother didn’t really understand. She didn’t really know what went on. She only looked at the ends, not the means.
“In fact,” Madame Maxine was saying, “your mother wants you to make University standard, Spencer. At one time she didn’t think you had the remotest chance of doing that, but now, since you have been under my personal tuition, the whole scene has changed. She is sure you can make it. And aren’t you, Spencer?”
I shook my head miserably. “No Ma’am,” I answered, “I don’t think I really can. I just don’t think I’m good enough.”
Madame Maxine’s features hardened momentarily. “Well,” she said, “it so happens that I agree with your mother. I DO think you can make it, Spencer. And, beyond that, my boy, I am going to make sure you do!”
Is it any wonder that, at that moment, I buried my face in my hands and slumped my head down on to the pillow?
Would not you have done with a future like mine to contemplate?
Chapter 3
So it came about that my tuition under Madame Maxine went on for five days a week instead of two. What was more, I had masses of Prep to do every night. This I worked on in the small study which was adjacent to the bedroom. This was a bleak room with only an iron bedstead, a chair and a wash stand. Estelle was charged with making the bed and keeping things generally clean... and she didn’t take at all kindly to the increase in her duties. I frequently got the lash of her spiteful tongue and inwardly dreaded the thought of the next time she was detailed to punish me with the tawse or the cane. I knew she would lay it on with real venom.
After my first week as a Boarder, Madame Maxine gave me some surprising news. Indeed one might call it startling. It both shocked and thrilled me in equal proportions.
“I have another pupil who comes here for special tuition,” she said. “Formerly it was on the days you weren’t here. Now of course, your attendances will overlap. You would have met her before now, but for the fact that she has been on holiday.”
She! Had I heard her right? My pulse continued to thump.
“... her name is Paula,” continued Madame Maxine calmly, “and she is the same age as you, Spencer. Quite a young lady, in fact. However, she had the same faults as you... laziness and indiscipline. That is why her parents sent her here. You will meet her this morning.”
I felt my cheeks beginning to burn, partly with excitement, partly with embarrassment. Would I be punished in front of her? Would she be punished in front of me? It gave me much to think about ...
Of course, I had seen girls punished at college. But then they had been caned on the hands in class. If anything more drastic had been considered necessary they had been taken off to the Head’s study. There, I heard, they got it across their knickers. Would Madame Maxine be much concerned with such niceties, I wondered?
Paula turned out to be exceedingly pretty and shapely, with long dark hair and lustrous, brown eyes. I could have ‘fallen for her’ if the circumstances had been different. As it was, Paula regarded me with contemptuous disdain as we formally shook hands. It was the typical look of an eighteen year old girl for an eighteen year old boy. You miserable worm, it said, though we may be the same age, I am far more experienced and mature than you. Also, I had the terrible disadvantage of meeting her when dressed in my ridiculous Eton collar and short trousered suit. No wonder I saw laughter in her eyes! No wonder her nose tip-tilted dismissively! Oh yes, she was very much the Miss Haughty. The thought of being punished before her made me go hot and cold all over. I could just imagine how much she would enjoy my humiliation.
Still, I comforted myself with the thought that Madame Maxine would consider it unseemly that either of us should be punished before the other. At least, I prayed that would be the case.
On the other hand, I could not avoid thinking that it would be exceedingly enjoyable to see that arrogant young miss being punished in front of me!
***
Lessons continued in Madame Maxine’s study... but mow there were two desks instead of one.
There was a thing about those desks, too. Though we were both grown up people, they were terribly small, and therefore uncomfortable to sit at. I am sure that was deliberately arranged by Madame Maxine... just to make us feel that we were not as old as we really were.
I was very nervous that first day of our dual lessons, and I expect Paula was too, though she tried not to show it. Perhaps, I thought, she too is worried about this question of punishment. However, by dint of hard work on both our parts, the day passed without incident. I retired to my study to continue working, and presumably Paula went home to her parents.
Estelle, as usual, brought me my evening meal.
“Had any stick today, boy?” she enquired in her cheeky way.
“No, Miss,” I answered. It was obligatory that I address this young minx in that respectable fashion.
“Pity,” she said. “Still, maybe tomorrow, eh? And then you’ll have to take your trousers down in front of Paula, won’t you?”
I felt myself blushing a beetroot red as she grinned at me.
“That... well... I mean... I don’t think anything like that will happen, Miss ...” I managed to say.
Estelle went on grinning. “Oh really?” she said. “What makes you so sure, boy? Do you think this is the first time Madame Maxine has had two of the opposite sex to teach at the same time?”
My nerves flared: that had not occurred to me.
“I assure you it is not,” went on Estelle. “And - she never made any bones about giving them a good hiding right there in the study - with the other one looking on.”
My nerves flared even more. Oh God... so it WAS going to happen! Oh the shame of it! Before that prissy Paula ...
Then excitement began to mount in me. Surely there wou
ld be times when the reverse would be the case?
Still grinning, Estelle left me to my thoughts.
And need I say that I approached the next day’s lessons with considerable apprehension after what she had said?
Young man or not, I realised that there was now the strong possibility of being treated just like a schoolboy before a young woman of my own age.
***
In the daily morning and afternoon sessions in Madame Maxine’s study my concentration on work became more intense than ever before. I fast began to get better in even my worst subjects. Such was the effect of pretty young Paula’s presence. The maddening thing was she seemed quick and bright at her work, rarely making mistakes and was most respectful and eager to please. A real teacher’s pet. There seemed but one chink in her armour... and that was the standard of her arithmetic. I could only wait and hope for her to slip up badly there.
Meanwhile, her supercilious attitude towards me continued. Her looks were cold, resentful, derisive. Sometimes her looks were as dominating as those of Madame Maxine herself.
But it had to happen one day...
“Spencer!” came our Governess’s barking voice as I sat at my desk. “Come out here ...”
I rose and went out quickly, my heart in my mouth, the hair on the nape of my neck rising. How well I knew that tone of voice!
“This English prep is disgraceful, Spencer,” she said. “The writing is bad and there are too many spelling errors. What is more, you have even summarised a different passage to the one I set. Sheer slackness. And as you know, I will NOT tolerate that!”
My spirits sank to my boots; my embarrassment was already making me flush and I could just imagine the smirk on Paula’s face.
“I... I can’t understand it Ma’am,” I said, desperately hoping she would let me off.
“I can,” she snapped, eyes flashing, “you’re slipping back to your former ways. Get your trousers down and kneel over the block. You’re getting a sound strapping, a dozen ...”
As, crimson with shame, I removed first my short trousers and then my underpants, I saw her take the double-thonged tawse down from its hook on the wall behind her. It was, need I say, far more painful than the single-thonged one. Would I be able to take it? Oh God... I must... I MUST... in front of Paula. If I wanted to think of myself as a man, I had to act like one!
Keeping myself facing away from the girl and also pressing my legs tight together, I knelt by the block. The memory of the awful caning I had received came back to me as I bent over it. There were still faint traces of the weals remaining, and they would not escape Paula’s eyes, I knew.
“Paula!”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“Spencer is relatively inexperienced. Come out here and secure his wrists for me ...”
“Certainly, Ma’am... “ There was delight in Paula’s voice.
The cheeks of my bottom as well as those of my face felt as if they were flushing as Paula hauled each of my wrists forward in turn and buckled it tightly with a strap. Very tightly. I felt the softness of her touch, felt the warmth of her body momentarily against mine, caught the scent of her. Her sexy attractiveness could not be denied yet, in that moment, I hated her. I gritted my teeth, determined to show her I was no weakling, as she went back to her desk.
Madame Maxine positioned herself, and I felt my nates clench involuntarily as I awaited the first stroke.
It descended with a loud, stinging crack, clean across the centre of my rump.
“Oww... ahhh... oww!” I cried out, gasping. I just couldn’t help it, so intense was the double-swathe of pain.
While the cane is slim and seems to bite more keenly and deeper, the tawse (especially the double-thonged one) spreads wider in a broad area of pain. I clenched my teeth even harder. I HAD to take it!
The second stroke thwacked down just beneath the first. She was not stinting herself, I can tell you.
“Owww... owww!” I cried out again, try as I might to restrain myself. Oh how it hurt!
Thwaackkkk!
“Oooowww... aaaghhh ...!” MY cry was louder and more agonised, my poor bottom juddered violently. And yet it had only just begun. For all my resolution I knew my lack of manliness was going to be made manifest to Paula. It was like bitter gall in my throat.
Thwaaacckkk!
Oh God... Madame Maxine had employed the most painful technique of all! She had laid the fourth stroke over where the first had fallen!
“Yyaaaii... eeeggghhh!” I yelled, breathlessly.
Thwwwaaaaccckkk!
The sixth came... and fell where the third had been placed. Tears sprang to my eyes as my howl rang out. Uninhibited. Forced from me relentlessly. It would have been bad enough to have been thrashed in that way with a single-thonged tawse, with a double it was sheer murder.
Halfway ...
And already I was striving to stop myself blubbering. As she customarily did, Madame Maxine moved to the other side of the block before laying on the final six. Six that were even worse than the six which proceeded them.
For, as I had prayed she would not, she continued to lay on strokes where the previous ones had fallen. In fact, she concentrated all her strokes in a six-inch wide band of flesh encircling my bottom.
In the end, as the final stroke contorted me in yelping pain, it felt as if a fire had literally been lit upon that band of flesh... a fire that blazed more fiercely every second.
Uncheckable, the sobs were in my throat and a few tears even trickled down my cheeks. Oh the miserable, horrible shame of it! Never would I be able to hold up my head in front of Paula again! That thought was almost worse than the pain at that moment.
But not quite. Oh... oh... oh... the burning, burning, burning... and the throbbing, throbbing, throbbing ...
“Paula!”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“Release Spencer, please ...”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Out she came again, no doubt exulting in her task. And certainly even more exultant when she must have noticed my tear stained features.
My wrists came free, Paula went back to her desk. I remained there, wishing the floor would swallow me up.
“Get up, Spencer... and put your trousers on ...”
Wincing and gasping - for any movement intensifies pain after a beating - I did as I was told, keeping myself averted again from Paula. Having adjusted my dress, I awaited the order to return to my desk.
Madame Maxine surveyed me coldly when she had replaced the tawse.
“No more slackness, eh Spencer?” she said.
“N-No... Ma’am,” I answered. My voice was hoarse. Oh how wretched I felt as I stood there. Yet the thought of sitting down on my hard wooden seat was horrible to contemplate. The burning band of flesh seemed to be blazing even more fiercely.
Madame Maxine nodded. “I hope so for your sake, young man. Because there’s plenty more where that came from. Now... back to your place.”
Head down, I stumbled back. But, as I sat down with a loud gasp, I could not help catching a glimpse of Paula. There was a look of triumphant amusement on her pretty face. And a sneer of even greater derision than before. I told you so, she seemed to be saying. For all your airs of being a young man, you still behave like a boy when the pressure’s on.
I couldn’t deny it either. My weakness had been exposed for all to see.
“We will proceed,” said Madame Maxine. “Geography... open your Atlases.”
Well, at least it was a subject at which I had become pretty proficient. Even so, for the rest of that morning, that band of fire around my bottom concentrated my mind most remarkably!
***
Since Paula was a non-Boarder, she only came to Madame Maxine’s twice a week, but those times were far more nerve-wracking than m
y time alone with the Governess. Actually there were times when I found myself actually hoping she would punish me... so as to get it over while Paula was absent. There were even times when I found myself half hoping she would punish me anyway, such had grown my idolised adoration for this superb young woman. She had come to dominate me mentally and physically in so short a time. Now she was an essential part to my life; my being.
Two days after my strapping, Paula came for her lessons. My sore and swollen bottom was getting back to normal, but I certainly didn’t fancy another taste of leather. Nor the cane, thank you! So, as you can imagine, I worked to the limit of my abilities. We spent a long time on arithmetic and maths - two of the subjects I didn’t mind at all. However, Paula kept having a lot of difficulty and several times, much to my mounting excitement. I thought Madame Maxine was going call her out for punishment. However, no such luck. Oh how I wanted to see that girl shamed as I had been! Frankly, I think I would have been happy to accept the same as whatever she got, just for the pleasure of watching her discomfort.
At the end of the day we were set the usual load of Prep - and I was by no means unhappy to note that it was largely composed of arithmetic. Paula was going to have a hard time of it before she returned on the following Friday.
***
That Friday came... and we seated ourselves in that now familiar study.
“Bring up your homework,” came our Governess’s order.
Paula and I took up the mass of sheets we had been working on at Prep and then reseated ourselves. My companion, I thought, looked very tense, even if as pretty as ever. She kept biting her lower lip. Those round cooking-apple breasts of hers looked as if they were going to literally burst through her white blouse at any moment.
A nerve-racking silence ensued. Madame Maxine’s red pencil scrawled away and occasionally she made a clicking sound with her tongue. Frankly, though I felt fairly confident about my work (arithmetic being one of my better subjects) it was impossible not to feel a growing nervousness. Her standards were so exacting it was almost a miracle if one truly pleased her - that I already realised.
