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Bridewell, my Penance, my Pain
- Thread starter Aslin nee 8ball
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Aslin nee 8ball
Governor
Sorry to make you wait Beast. I will work on another chapter this week. I do have some vacation time coming up in a month or so. No intention of being sadistic. Absence makes the anticipation grow, does it not?
elephas
Senator
While waiting for the "Welcome Day", let's see what punishments were given to female prisoners as "Welcome" in the Ludwigsburg prison in the 18th century (Ludwigsburg is a city in Baden-Württemberg, near Stuttgart, the residence of the Dukes of Württemberg at that time).
The moderate Welcome - 12 strokes, the simple Welcome - 15 strokes, the double Welcome - 30 strokes, the severe Welcome - 40 strokes. Instruments of punishment: hazel cane and birch rod.
From the Ludwigsburg Prison Museum.
The moderate Welcome - 12 strokes, the simple Welcome - 15 strokes, the double Welcome - 30 strokes, the severe Welcome - 40 strokes. Instruments of punishment: hazel cane and birch rod.
From the Ludwigsburg Prison Museum.
Aslin nee 8ball
Governor
Interesting. That’s some good research. I am afraid I missed that when I did mine.
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
I had no idea this was a real thing, imagining @Aslin nee 8ball was simply using artistic licence. Another welcome lesson from the university of Crux!
@Aslin nee 8ball feel free to take as much time as you like, every new chapter is well worth the wait! Very engaging and I’m well invested in your characters by now!
I know I shouldn't promote other web sites but Mood videos do a superb birching video called Lashville Town of Justice where 4 women are subjected to severe birchings on their bare bottoms.
Aslin nee 8ball
Governor
Bridewell, My Penance, My Pain. Part 12
I hurt all over as my muscles continue to react to the stressful position the pillory forces me maintain. It is much like the closet, there is no way that I can shift or move to make the pain disappear. I move to lessen the pain in one area, only to worsen it somewhere else. The crowd keeps getting larger, much larger than the crowd I witnessed on punishment day when the prison wagon brought us in.
It doesn’t take long before all of the seating around the edge of the platform is filled with well dressed aristocrats. Almost all of them have stopped to inspect me on the way in. Comments about my now soaked shift clinging to my body, abound. Surprisingly, most of the comments come from the females in the group. Undoubtedly meant to flaunt their superiority or maybe just to embarrass me in front of their compatriots.
The day is getting hotter and hotter as the sun slowly rises to its apex. My eyes burn as the sweat runs into each with no way to wipe them. My hair hangs in sweat soaked tendrils , sticking to my cheeks on both sides of my face. A face that maintains a constant grimace from the pain of my cramping shoulders, back, and legs. I think that I must be a horrible sight but still I see people sitting around me pointing and gesturing ,laughing at their little jests. Laughing at me. I have been pinioned for hours and I know it must be near high noon when the days festivities are set to commence. The main gates to the compound open and the common folk are let in. They rush in with the sounds of a festive occasion about to commence.The commoners crowd is quite large, soon they fill the ground in front of the platform, cramming together in the moderate area until they are twenty deep all across the space.
It must be noon, as soon I hear a drum roll and Governor Abbott and Matron Wilby make their way up the steps of the platform followed by those who are to receive their punishments this day and about half a dozen guards. The governor gets the attention of the crowd whose anticipation is rising to a crescendo. “ Ladies and Gentleman. My name is Captain James Abbott, the new governor of Bridewell Prison Workhouse.” The crowd responded with much applause. “ Although I am new here” , he continued “ I believe in the old fashioned ways of meting out punishments. I believe that nothing good can come of sparing the rod. The women you will see punished today have committed serious crimes against society. They were sent to this prison to be punished for those crimes. Bridewell is not a place that they should want to be, nor should it be a place they should ever wish to return. I am not sure of my predecessors methods of correction but mine will only be the strictest methods allowable. I thank you for coming to the inaugural punishment day under my governorship. Please enjoy the chastisement of these wayward women today for I guarantee you, they, will not.” The crowd erupts with cheers as the governor bows as he finishes his speech.
I am shivering, as hot as it is, the ominous tone of his voice haunts me. I expect the worst as he moves behind me.
“ See before you a woman, Aslin Pennyworth, who refuses to follow the rules. This woman chooses to be continually lazy , not meeting her work quotas. She chooses to disobey her overseers and disrespect the prison superiors. And she has not been here but less than a month.”
I could hear a murmur make its way through the crowd. He continued “ I have already had to amend her welcome once but now I fear that I have to amend it once again because she has tried to offer me bodily favors to lessen her punishment.” A collective gasp rose from the multitude. He continued “ She will still spend her 8 hours in the pillory….still receive 24 strokes of the birch each on back and bottom; but I have also added a dozen hard whacks with the paddle on her bottom to reinforce her need to follow the rules. I hope this chastisement helps her to realize that Bridewell is not the place for a holiday ” The roar from the crowd was deafening. I could hear someone yell ‘how shameful. Make the hussy suffer’ and ‘ Teach that wanton bottom a lesson, governor. ‘ she’s a whore, offering her body like that. Make her dance, make her sing’.
My head hangs in shame as the comments keep coming. Maybe I am no better than a whore. I was willing to give my body to help poor Alice. It might have seemed noble at the time but I’m still prostituting myself. My life is a disaster , I’m poor, in prison, with no future. I am disgraced, no good man will ever want me. The only thing I have left in this whole world is my pride. I won’t let them take that from me, I can’t let them take that from me. The governor nods and the guards tear my shift, and pull it back to my hips. I stand bent forward , naked to the waste, my hands and head trapped by the pillory. I stand naked, my breasts hang pendulously uncovered below me for all to see. I am so ashamed but I am ready to receive my punishment.
“Begin with the first twenty four.” I hear his order. I take in a breath as I feel the birch touch my shoulder blades. I feel it lift off my back but within a few seconds I hear a swoosh and feel the birch’s first impact. I think to myself, that wasn’t too bad just a tingling sensation. The second blow lands in the same place, still not so bad. The third stroke brought the first bit of stinging pain. I am enduring this so far but by the fifth blow the sting is becoming something to deal with, to the enjoyment of those watching, it brings the first squeal from my lips. By the 8th stroke I am squealing and I fight against my bonds. By the twelfth stroke my squeals are more like a shriek and pain is all I know. My body is reacting to the birch, weaving back and forth with every strike of the birch rod.
There is a brief respite after the twelfth stroke. Then I hear his voice. “ Time for a fresh birch Pennyworth. I told you we would meet again. The next dozen is really going to smart.” Its Davey the guards voice. The one who said he would get even with me for refusing him. He struts around me , shaking the vinegar off the new birch rod he holds in the air and the crowd erupts.
“ Let her have it Davey.” “Make her sing Make her dance for us.” “ Let’s hear some real screams.” My mind starts playing with me. Would this punishment be easier if I had succumbed to his wishes? No, but why did it have to be Davey,not another one of the guards beating me.
I can hear the crowd react as Davey reaches back for number thirteen. It strikes my back with a stinging fury. I bite my lip trying not to scream but each stroke is worse than the last. My body jumps uncontrollably. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. But I have no choice and this is just the first part of my whipping. I am screaming loudly by stroke 14 and my body is bucking and pulling at the pillory. The 18th stroke feels like a hive of bees are attacking me between my shoulder blades. The pain overwhelms me , it has me starting to beg for mercy. I try to compose myself but can not. My tears are running down my cheeks and are dripping onto the platform below me. The crowd is cheering Davey for his efforts and counting the strokes loudly. I only know pain now, a fiery, scalding pain that engulfs me and won’t let go. I am shuddering and shaking between strokes, trying to fight off the pain. My feet are stomping a steady tattoo on the platform at the base of the pillory.
My throat hurts from the force of my screams but the screams keep coming louder and louder with each stroke . I am crazy with pain by the 20th stroke, I am babbling incoherently. By the 24th stroke, I am exhausted and the pain is horrific . I am surprised that I am still conscious, I have been praying for unconsciousness to escape the pain but my prayers go unanswered. I slump in the pillory, thankful it is over and hopeful that the burning pain in my back subsides. I hear Davey whisper “ Hope you enjoyed act one, Pennyworth, don’t fear, my arm will be well rested for act two. But first I get to practice on your friend Alice. Her arse will show bloody by the time I’m done with her.”
Davey quaffs down a tankard of ale and I am given water to drink as poor Alice is fixed onto the whipped bench, her feet and hands locked in. I call out to her but my words are drowned out by the crowd as they lift Alice’s dress forward and pull her drawers down, exposing her bare bottom, for all to see.
( to be continued ).
I hurt all over as my muscles continue to react to the stressful position the pillory forces me maintain. It is much like the closet, there is no way that I can shift or move to make the pain disappear. I move to lessen the pain in one area, only to worsen it somewhere else. The crowd keeps getting larger, much larger than the crowd I witnessed on punishment day when the prison wagon brought us in.
It doesn’t take long before all of the seating around the edge of the platform is filled with well dressed aristocrats. Almost all of them have stopped to inspect me on the way in. Comments about my now soaked shift clinging to my body, abound. Surprisingly, most of the comments come from the females in the group. Undoubtedly meant to flaunt their superiority or maybe just to embarrass me in front of their compatriots.
The day is getting hotter and hotter as the sun slowly rises to its apex. My eyes burn as the sweat runs into each with no way to wipe them. My hair hangs in sweat soaked tendrils , sticking to my cheeks on both sides of my face. A face that maintains a constant grimace from the pain of my cramping shoulders, back, and legs. I think that I must be a horrible sight but still I see people sitting around me pointing and gesturing ,laughing at their little jests. Laughing at me. I have been pinioned for hours and I know it must be near high noon when the days festivities are set to commence. The main gates to the compound open and the common folk are let in. They rush in with the sounds of a festive occasion about to commence.The commoners crowd is quite large, soon they fill the ground in front of the platform, cramming together in the moderate area until they are twenty deep all across the space.
It must be noon, as soon I hear a drum roll and Governor Abbott and Matron Wilby make their way up the steps of the platform followed by those who are to receive their punishments this day and about half a dozen guards. The governor gets the attention of the crowd whose anticipation is rising to a crescendo. “ Ladies and Gentleman. My name is Captain James Abbott, the new governor of Bridewell Prison Workhouse.” The crowd responded with much applause. “ Although I am new here” , he continued “ I believe in the old fashioned ways of meting out punishments. I believe that nothing good can come of sparing the rod. The women you will see punished today have committed serious crimes against society. They were sent to this prison to be punished for those crimes. Bridewell is not a place that they should want to be, nor should it be a place they should ever wish to return. I am not sure of my predecessors methods of correction but mine will only be the strictest methods allowable. I thank you for coming to the inaugural punishment day under my governorship. Please enjoy the chastisement of these wayward women today for I guarantee you, they, will not.” The crowd erupts with cheers as the governor bows as he finishes his speech.
I am shivering, as hot as it is, the ominous tone of his voice haunts me. I expect the worst as he moves behind me.
“ See before you a woman, Aslin Pennyworth, who refuses to follow the rules. This woman chooses to be continually lazy , not meeting her work quotas. She chooses to disobey her overseers and disrespect the prison superiors. And she has not been here but less than a month.”
I could hear a murmur make its way through the crowd. He continued “ I have already had to amend her welcome once but now I fear that I have to amend it once again because she has tried to offer me bodily favors to lessen her punishment.” A collective gasp rose from the multitude. He continued “ She will still spend her 8 hours in the pillory….still receive 24 strokes of the birch each on back and bottom; but I have also added a dozen hard whacks with the paddle on her bottom to reinforce her need to follow the rules. I hope this chastisement helps her to realize that Bridewell is not the place for a holiday ” The roar from the crowd was deafening. I could hear someone yell ‘how shameful. Make the hussy suffer’ and ‘ Teach that wanton bottom a lesson, governor. ‘ she’s a whore, offering her body like that. Make her dance, make her sing’.
My head hangs in shame as the comments keep coming. Maybe I am no better than a whore. I was willing to give my body to help poor Alice. It might have seemed noble at the time but I’m still prostituting myself. My life is a disaster , I’m poor, in prison, with no future. I am disgraced, no good man will ever want me. The only thing I have left in this whole world is my pride. I won’t let them take that from me, I can’t let them take that from me. The governor nods and the guards tear my shift, and pull it back to my hips. I stand bent forward , naked to the waste, my hands and head trapped by the pillory. I stand naked, my breasts hang pendulously uncovered below me for all to see. I am so ashamed but I am ready to receive my punishment.
“Begin with the first twenty four.” I hear his order. I take in a breath as I feel the birch touch my shoulder blades. I feel it lift off my back but within a few seconds I hear a swoosh and feel the birch’s first impact. I think to myself, that wasn’t too bad just a tingling sensation. The second blow lands in the same place, still not so bad. The third stroke brought the first bit of stinging pain. I am enduring this so far but by the fifth blow the sting is becoming something to deal with, to the enjoyment of those watching, it brings the first squeal from my lips. By the 8th stroke I am squealing and I fight against my bonds. By the twelfth stroke my squeals are more like a shriek and pain is all I know. My body is reacting to the birch, weaving back and forth with every strike of the birch rod.
There is a brief respite after the twelfth stroke. Then I hear his voice. “ Time for a fresh birch Pennyworth. I told you we would meet again. The next dozen is really going to smart.” Its Davey the guards voice. The one who said he would get even with me for refusing him. He struts around me , shaking the vinegar off the new birch rod he holds in the air and the crowd erupts.
“ Let her have it Davey.” “Make her sing Make her dance for us.” “ Let’s hear some real screams.” My mind starts playing with me. Would this punishment be easier if I had succumbed to his wishes? No, but why did it have to be Davey,not another one of the guards beating me.
I can hear the crowd react as Davey reaches back for number thirteen. It strikes my back with a stinging fury. I bite my lip trying not to scream but each stroke is worse than the last. My body jumps uncontrollably. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. But I have no choice and this is just the first part of my whipping. I am screaming loudly by stroke 14 and my body is bucking and pulling at the pillory. The 18th stroke feels like a hive of bees are attacking me between my shoulder blades. The pain overwhelms me , it has me starting to beg for mercy. I try to compose myself but can not. My tears are running down my cheeks and are dripping onto the platform below me. The crowd is cheering Davey for his efforts and counting the strokes loudly. I only know pain now, a fiery, scalding pain that engulfs me and won’t let go. I am shuddering and shaking between strokes, trying to fight off the pain. My feet are stomping a steady tattoo on the platform at the base of the pillory.
My throat hurts from the force of my screams but the screams keep coming louder and louder with each stroke . I am crazy with pain by the 20th stroke, I am babbling incoherently. By the 24th stroke, I am exhausted and the pain is horrific . I am surprised that I am still conscious, I have been praying for unconsciousness to escape the pain but my prayers go unanswered. I slump in the pillory, thankful it is over and hopeful that the burning pain in my back subsides. I hear Davey whisper “ Hope you enjoyed act one, Pennyworth, don’t fear, my arm will be well rested for act two. But first I get to practice on your friend Alice. Her arse will show bloody by the time I’m done with her.”
Davey quaffs down a tankard of ale and I am given water to drink as poor Alice is fixed onto the whipped bench, her feet and hands locked in. I call out to her but my words are drowned out by the crowd as they lift Alice’s dress forward and pull her drawers down, exposing her bare bottom, for all to see.
( to be continued ).
Attachments
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
@Aslin nee 8ball thank you for another riveting chapter, looking forward to the paddling and the extra time in her pillory. Meanwhile it’s Alice’s turn, since you’re clearly Pennyworth, I’d be honoured to take Alice’s role…
The Beast
Governor
Paddling after birching should make Aslin bottom bloody. Doctor will have a chance for long and of course painful dressing her wounds.
Aslin nee 8ball
Governor
There are so many ways this story can go . I just want to make sure I keep your interest. I like the back stories and human interaction parts of the story, the thoughts, the feelings, the relationships. If it gets to be too much of that please let me know. A little feedback now and then is usually a good thing.
Aslin nee 8ball
Governor
Thank you for the kind words.
elephas
Senator
I think that so far in this story everything is in moderation. If there are more thoughts and feelings, this will not damage the narrative, it will only shade the main events.
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
I think the exploration of your characters feelings and motivation is what keeps the story so engaging. Along with some highly erotic threats and birchings! Mmmm, I’m loving it all
Aslin nee 8ball
Governor
Bridewell, My Penance, My Pain. Pt 13
It took me a while before I could open my eyes and look upon Alice. I notice that she is flushed,probably due to her bottom being bared for the crowd to see, but I am surprised by the calm look on her face. Alice glances my way and I can see the steely look in her eyes. It is apparent that she is far more ready to receive her caning than I am to watch it. I hope that she can withstand the pain for the bulls pizzle that Davey is flexing between his hands looks indeed hortifying. It is longer and thicker than the pizzles used by the Bridewell guards.
The governor steps forward. “ Next we have Alice Walker, laziness and disobedience, two dozen strokes of the pizzle on her bared bottom. Begin” The crowd begins their catcalls and the energy level of the place increases once again. I look at Alice held in the clutches of the whipping bench. Her body looks so small and delicate, the skin of her bottom so pale. That will soon change. I know that her pale skin will soon redden, be covered with welts, and blood will flow before Davey is through plying the rod to her tender backside. Only because, she chooses to befriend me.
I want to close my eyes as Davey lifts the pizzle high into the air and hesitates for just a split second as the crowd quiets. I keep them open to support Alice if she should try to look at me. Suddenly his arm makes its viscous decent and I hear the sickening crack of the rod as it smacks onto her uncovered hillocks. I see Alice’s eyes open wide in surprise. I see the pain flow through her as her body tenses and she clenches her teeth to suppress any sound. Davey takes his time, waiting for her body to relax before he strikes again.
The second blow strikes home and marks the buttocks just below the first. This time Alice’s eyes close as a grimace covers her face. I hear her moan for the first time. The crowd is cheering on Davey, urging him to strike harder. His third blow is the worst yet and Alice reacts, her head flies back and I hear a squeal escape her lips. She looks at me for the first time. I don’t see the same determination as before, the pain is starting to eat away at her resolve.
The fourth stroke lands and Alice screams for the first time. I see four parallel raised red lines on her bottom as I watch her writhing body fight the pain. The guard takes his time with the fifth and sixth strokes, landing still parallel to the previous strokes. Alice’s body is bathed in sweat now, torture sweat. The audience is enjoying her body bucking and jumping, dancing upon the bench in response to the pizzles bite. They count out each stroke , although her screams are beginning to drown them out.
After two more strokes sear her buttocks, Davey starts to decorate the tender flesh of the back thighs just below her buttocks. Without the extra padding of the buttocks, the nerve endings of the thighs really feel the damage of the bulls pizzle. The nerves screamed with each blow and Alice followed suit, her screams more throaty and she began to beg aloud for mercy. At the end of the first dozen I can tell that Alice is in terrible pain. Deep red inflamed welts, perfectly placed, show from the very top of her buttocks unto the top portion of her back thighs.
It must be time for Davey to display what he must feel is true artistry, as he strides around the prone Alice, flexing the puzzle and shouting to the crowd. “ Are you ready for some real screams? Do you want to see blood?” The response from the crowd is loud and long. I see a shudder run through Alice’s body and the goose pimples of fear decorate her skin. Davey moves a little further behind her this time. He raises his arm slowly and brings it down with great force.
I can see that Davey is no longer spacing the blows but rather he started delivering diagonal slashes. The first blow of the second dozen strokes crisscrosses a number of the earlier welts. It is obviously more painful as Alice’s body goes stiff as a board, the chords stick out in her upthrust neck, and she screams at the top of her lungs. But alas,I know that the worst has not yet come for poor Alice. Two more blows and I can see blood blisters where the blows are criss- crossing. Alice’s screams are almost continuous now. The blows keep falling and I can see that the pain Alice is experiencing is soon going to break her .
By the 18th blow her welted skin begins to break, tiny droplets of blood oozing through at the places the blows are intersecting . Alice’s head is rapidly shaking back and forth now, hair out of her stays and flying about her head. Her screams seem more like babbling now, her pleading incoherent. By the time the 24th stroke hits home , blood is spraying about the platform, Alice is in a painful swoon, and I am ever so thankful that her ordeal, an ordeal she suffered for being my friend, is finally over. I am so sorry Alice, so sorry.
As they release Alice from her bonds and she is half carried away, there comes quite a commotion from behind me on the platform. I hear yelling, screaming, and cursing. I can not turn to see who is causing the ruckus but I recognize the voice. It is Elsbeth. It takes four guards to lead her forward with her kicking and biting every inch of the way, much to the enjoyment of the aristocrats seated on the platform and the commoners standing out front.
It takes the guards but a few minutes to secure the big woman to the whipping post and tear her garments to bare her to the waist. Her large body elicits a number of catcalls from the commoners and although Elsbeth chooses not to be my friend, I still feel sorry for her and wish her no ill will. To be bared in front of strangers is embarrassing for any woman, no matter how tough they think they are. But it is not embarrassment I see in her eyes but rather fear. The woman who professes to be the cock-of-the-walk, the bully of Bridewell, is crying tears of fear as she faces the governors whip. I must admit I do feel a little sorry for her but her behavior to this point does not warrant major pity.
The governor gets the attention of everyone once again “ Elsbeth Barton a welcome of 18 strokes of the cat plus 3 extra strokes added because of her resistance and her vile mouth, just witnessed. Begin!” Again the crowd shows it’s approval with loud outcries. It appears Davey will not whip Elsbeth as another jailer steps forward holding a vicious looking whip with nine knotted tails. Elsbeth starts begging even before the first strike “ No, No, I’m sorry sir. Please have mercy sir. I’ll be a good girl, don’t you worry. I’ll be good!”
( to be continued)
It took me a while before I could open my eyes and look upon Alice. I notice that she is flushed,probably due to her bottom being bared for the crowd to see, but I am surprised by the calm look on her face. Alice glances my way and I can see the steely look in her eyes. It is apparent that she is far more ready to receive her caning than I am to watch it. I hope that she can withstand the pain for the bulls pizzle that Davey is flexing between his hands looks indeed hortifying. It is longer and thicker than the pizzles used by the Bridewell guards.
The governor steps forward. “ Next we have Alice Walker, laziness and disobedience, two dozen strokes of the pizzle on her bared bottom. Begin” The crowd begins their catcalls and the energy level of the place increases once again. I look at Alice held in the clutches of the whipping bench. Her body looks so small and delicate, the skin of her bottom so pale. That will soon change. I know that her pale skin will soon redden, be covered with welts, and blood will flow before Davey is through plying the rod to her tender backside. Only because, she chooses to befriend me.
I want to close my eyes as Davey lifts the pizzle high into the air and hesitates for just a split second as the crowd quiets. I keep them open to support Alice if she should try to look at me. Suddenly his arm makes its viscous decent and I hear the sickening crack of the rod as it smacks onto her uncovered hillocks. I see Alice’s eyes open wide in surprise. I see the pain flow through her as her body tenses and she clenches her teeth to suppress any sound. Davey takes his time, waiting for her body to relax before he strikes again.
The second blow strikes home and marks the buttocks just below the first. This time Alice’s eyes close as a grimace covers her face. I hear her moan for the first time. The crowd is cheering on Davey, urging him to strike harder. His third blow is the worst yet and Alice reacts, her head flies back and I hear a squeal escape her lips. She looks at me for the first time. I don’t see the same determination as before, the pain is starting to eat away at her resolve.
The fourth stroke lands and Alice screams for the first time. I see four parallel raised red lines on her bottom as I watch her writhing body fight the pain. The guard takes his time with the fifth and sixth strokes, landing still parallel to the previous strokes. Alice’s body is bathed in sweat now, torture sweat. The audience is enjoying her body bucking and jumping, dancing upon the bench in response to the pizzles bite. They count out each stroke , although her screams are beginning to drown them out.
After two more strokes sear her buttocks, Davey starts to decorate the tender flesh of the back thighs just below her buttocks. Without the extra padding of the buttocks, the nerve endings of the thighs really feel the damage of the bulls pizzle. The nerves screamed with each blow and Alice followed suit, her screams more throaty and she began to beg aloud for mercy. At the end of the first dozen I can tell that Alice is in terrible pain. Deep red inflamed welts, perfectly placed, show from the very top of her buttocks unto the top portion of her back thighs.
It must be time for Davey to display what he must feel is true artistry, as he strides around the prone Alice, flexing the puzzle and shouting to the crowd. “ Are you ready for some real screams? Do you want to see blood?” The response from the crowd is loud and long. I see a shudder run through Alice’s body and the goose pimples of fear decorate her skin. Davey moves a little further behind her this time. He raises his arm slowly and brings it down with great force.
I can see that Davey is no longer spacing the blows but rather he started delivering diagonal slashes. The first blow of the second dozen strokes crisscrosses a number of the earlier welts. It is obviously more painful as Alice’s body goes stiff as a board, the chords stick out in her upthrust neck, and she screams at the top of her lungs. But alas,I know that the worst has not yet come for poor Alice. Two more blows and I can see blood blisters where the blows are criss- crossing. Alice’s screams are almost continuous now. The blows keep falling and I can see that the pain Alice is experiencing is soon going to break her .
By the 18th blow her welted skin begins to break, tiny droplets of blood oozing through at the places the blows are intersecting . Alice’s head is rapidly shaking back and forth now, hair out of her stays and flying about her head. Her screams seem more like babbling now, her pleading incoherent. By the time the 24th stroke hits home , blood is spraying about the platform, Alice is in a painful swoon, and I am ever so thankful that her ordeal, an ordeal she suffered for being my friend, is finally over. I am so sorry Alice, so sorry.
As they release Alice from her bonds and she is half carried away, there comes quite a commotion from behind me on the platform. I hear yelling, screaming, and cursing. I can not turn to see who is causing the ruckus but I recognize the voice. It is Elsbeth. It takes four guards to lead her forward with her kicking and biting every inch of the way, much to the enjoyment of the aristocrats seated on the platform and the commoners standing out front.
It takes the guards but a few minutes to secure the big woman to the whipping post and tear her garments to bare her to the waist. Her large body elicits a number of catcalls from the commoners and although Elsbeth chooses not to be my friend, I still feel sorry for her and wish her no ill will. To be bared in front of strangers is embarrassing for any woman, no matter how tough they think they are. But it is not embarrassment I see in her eyes but rather fear. The woman who professes to be the cock-of-the-walk, the bully of Bridewell, is crying tears of fear as she faces the governors whip. I must admit I do feel a little sorry for her but her behavior to this point does not warrant major pity.
The governor gets the attention of everyone once again “ Elsbeth Barton a welcome of 18 strokes of the cat plus 3 extra strokes added because of her resistance and her vile mouth, just witnessed. Begin!” Again the crowd shows it’s approval with loud outcries. It appears Davey will not whip Elsbeth as another jailer steps forward holding a vicious looking whip with nine knotted tails. Elsbeth starts begging even before the first strike “ No, No, I’m sorry sir. Please have mercy sir. I’ll be a good girl, don’t you worry. I’ll be good!”
( to be continued)
nicole
Tribune
the description of the flogging is very exciting.
The Beast
Governor
Yes. One of the best Aslin chapter. So it's time for Elsbeth severe and probably bloody flogging.
nicole
Tribune
Totally agree. We eagerly await the sequel
Aslin nee 8ball
Governor
Bridewell, My Penance, My Pain part 14
The guard takes his stance to the right of Elsbeth so I assume that he is left handed but he proves me wrong as he pivots and brings his right arm far over his left shoulder. I hear Ellsberg cry out “No, No,No” as the nine knotted strands hover in the air for just a second, and suddenly begin to descend on her wide back. I hear the whip strike it’s target, not a sharp crack probably due to the fleshy target it strikes, but a solid strike none-the-less. Elsbeth’s eyes are wide now as she attempts to catch her breath. The blow seems to have forced the breath from her and no sound comes from her mouth. The second blow, higher on her shoulders brings forth a mighty grimace on her face and her first sound, a loud grunt. She is holding a death grip on the post after the third stroke strikes home. She grunts louder this time, the left side of her bared back beginning to turn quite red.
The guard now nimbly moves to her left and as he reaches back for the fourth stroke, Elsbeth cries out “ ‘ave mercy sir. It ‘urts so much. I’ll be good, I promise ya” , which brings only catcalls and laughter from the crowd. By the time the 6th stroke strikes home the whole of the large woman’s back is red from shoulders to waist. After number six the guard shifts back to his backhand position and strikes.
This time the 9 strands of the cat are starting to strike flesh already red and starting to swell from the earlier strokes. The pain level must be so much greater as Elsbeth stiffens at the post and she throws her head back to emit the first of many screams . I can see nine reddish-purple welts start to form where the strands impacted her flesh. Her whole left side is a mass of deep welts by the time the ninth blow lands and the guard moves once again. The next three blow decorate the right side of her body with the same deep welts.
Elsbeth is screaming loudly now and begging pitifully. “ Please stop. I’ll do anything’s you want. I can’t take it. Please , Please.” This only proved to entertain the crowd and encouraged them to urge on the man with the whip. “ Cut her Henry. She ain’t showing no proper remorse. Only feeling sorry for herself she is.” “ Whip her harder. We don’t want no beggin’ , let’s hear some proper screams. “ Come on Henry, didn’t you learn nothing from Davey. He’d have blood flowin’by now.” The last comment angered Henry so much that he put all his strength into the next blow.
He succeeded in all three areas with that single viscous stroke of the cat. Elsbeth screams louder than before, she can’t beg because she is gasping for air, and spots of blood are evident on her fleshy back. Two more powerful blows, two throaty screams and blood is running in rivulets down Elsbeth’s left side and her feet are beating a steady tattoo on the floor of the platform. Henry is enjoying the cheers of the onlookers now, and a putting his best effort into each stroke.
Moving to the forehand side again, he let loose with another hard slash, the big girl’s skin splitting in a number of places. The woman’s body was beginning to shudder now with each blow. Two more blows and Elsbeth’s screams are ear splitting and now blood was flowing down both sides.
Three more blows I thought, I’m not sure she can take it, this is going to be a real test of her resolve. Her blood is already splattered on the floor of the platform around her. Henry breaks pattern and moves directly behind Elsbeth, hitting her with a vertical stroke that splits the skin mid back. It seemed to open the flood gates as blood begins flowing copiously from the new wounds. Elsbeth is screaming “ Ya bastard. Ya dirty bastard” as she looked to the sky and her body shuddered with pain.
Two more blows and the air was filled with droplets of the big woman’s blood, spraying all over the platform. At the end of the 21 strokes, Elsbeth slumped at the post in a state of semi-consciousness. It took all of the four guards who struggled to get her to the post, to release her from her bonds and lead her from the platform back to the main building and the prison hospital.
After the platform was washed down, the governor stepped forward. “ There will be a short intermission. A chance for all to partake in some refreshment provided by the Bridewell kitchen staff.” People started to mill about as refreshments were brought for the crowd. Just then I noticed two people approaching me , my protagonist Miles Coward and his wife Livia.
Livia stands before me and says “Pennyworth, this is so exhilarating, isn’t it? I never thought that I would enjoy it so much. Does it hurt much to be held so by these timbers?” She says touching the top piece of the pillory and hesitating waiting for my answer. I answer only with a “yes”. She continued “ Well soon you will forget about that ,when the birch sets fire to your naked backside. How will you feel when they bare you completely for the birch’s bite. Will you be embarrassed that all can see your nakedness, or will the whore in you be excited to be openly displaying your wares?” Miles pats me assuredly on my bottom and both she and he chuckle as they walk away. I begin to cry and I feel the awful pain of my cramping body once again. I mumble through my tears, “ I am no whore. I am no whore.”
(to be continued)
I will be away on holiday for a bit so I thought I might throw a quick chapter together. I will be back in action in about 10 days or so.
The guard takes his stance to the right of Elsbeth so I assume that he is left handed but he proves me wrong as he pivots and brings his right arm far over his left shoulder. I hear Ellsberg cry out “No, No,No” as the nine knotted strands hover in the air for just a second, and suddenly begin to descend on her wide back. I hear the whip strike it’s target, not a sharp crack probably due to the fleshy target it strikes, but a solid strike none-the-less. Elsbeth’s eyes are wide now as she attempts to catch her breath. The blow seems to have forced the breath from her and no sound comes from her mouth. The second blow, higher on her shoulders brings forth a mighty grimace on her face and her first sound, a loud grunt. She is holding a death grip on the post after the third stroke strikes home. She grunts louder this time, the left side of her bared back beginning to turn quite red.
The guard now nimbly moves to her left and as he reaches back for the fourth stroke, Elsbeth cries out “ ‘ave mercy sir. It ‘urts so much. I’ll be good, I promise ya” , which brings only catcalls and laughter from the crowd. By the time the 6th stroke strikes home the whole of the large woman’s back is red from shoulders to waist. After number six the guard shifts back to his backhand position and strikes.
This time the 9 strands of the cat are starting to strike flesh already red and starting to swell from the earlier strokes. The pain level must be so much greater as Elsbeth stiffens at the post and she throws her head back to emit the first of many screams . I can see nine reddish-purple welts start to form where the strands impacted her flesh. Her whole left side is a mass of deep welts by the time the ninth blow lands and the guard moves once again. The next three blow decorate the right side of her body with the same deep welts.
Elsbeth is screaming loudly now and begging pitifully. “ Please stop. I’ll do anything’s you want. I can’t take it. Please , Please.” This only proved to entertain the crowd and encouraged them to urge on the man with the whip. “ Cut her Henry. She ain’t showing no proper remorse. Only feeling sorry for herself she is.” “ Whip her harder. We don’t want no beggin’ , let’s hear some proper screams. “ Come on Henry, didn’t you learn nothing from Davey. He’d have blood flowin’by now.” The last comment angered Henry so much that he put all his strength into the next blow.
He succeeded in all three areas with that single viscous stroke of the cat. Elsbeth screams louder than before, she can’t beg because she is gasping for air, and spots of blood are evident on her fleshy back. Two more powerful blows, two throaty screams and blood is running in rivulets down Elsbeth’s left side and her feet are beating a steady tattoo on the floor of the platform. Henry is enjoying the cheers of the onlookers now, and a putting his best effort into each stroke.
Moving to the forehand side again, he let loose with another hard slash, the big girl’s skin splitting in a number of places. The woman’s body was beginning to shudder now with each blow. Two more blows and Elsbeth’s screams are ear splitting and now blood was flowing down both sides.
Three more blows I thought, I’m not sure she can take it, this is going to be a real test of her resolve. Her blood is already splattered on the floor of the platform around her. Henry breaks pattern and moves directly behind Elsbeth, hitting her with a vertical stroke that splits the skin mid back. It seemed to open the flood gates as blood begins flowing copiously from the new wounds. Elsbeth is screaming “ Ya bastard. Ya dirty bastard” as she looked to the sky and her body shuddered with pain.
Two more blows and the air was filled with droplets of the big woman’s blood, spraying all over the platform. At the end of the 21 strokes, Elsbeth slumped at the post in a state of semi-consciousness. It took all of the four guards who struggled to get her to the post, to release her from her bonds and lead her from the platform back to the main building and the prison hospital.
After the platform was washed down, the governor stepped forward. “ There will be a short intermission. A chance for all to partake in some refreshment provided by the Bridewell kitchen staff.” People started to mill about as refreshments were brought for the crowd. Just then I noticed two people approaching me , my protagonist Miles Coward and his wife Livia.
Livia stands before me and says “Pennyworth, this is so exhilarating, isn’t it? I never thought that I would enjoy it so much. Does it hurt much to be held so by these timbers?” She says touching the top piece of the pillory and hesitating waiting for my answer. I answer only with a “yes”. She continued “ Well soon you will forget about that ,when the birch sets fire to your naked backside. How will you feel when they bare you completely for the birch’s bite. Will you be embarrassed that all can see your nakedness, or will the whore in you be excited to be openly displaying your wares?” Miles pats me assuredly on my bottom and both she and he chuckle as they walk away. I begin to cry and I feel the awful pain of my cramping body once again. I mumble through my tears, “ I am no whore. I am no whore.”
(to be continued)
I will be away on holiday for a bit so I thought I might throw a quick chapter together. I will be back in action in about 10 days or so.