Bridewell, my Penance, my Pain

[The Beast]

Another perfect chapter. I like this stepping on the executioner's ambitions by the crowd to punish Elsbeth harder. And the sadistic Livia at the end. I like that woman, maybe she should end up in Bridewell too.

 

[Aslin nee 8ball]

Who knows. This story plays out to be very long. Anything can happen.

 

[Aslin nee 8ball]

Bridewell, My Penance,My Pain Chapter 15

The cramping becomes unbearable as the people around me mill about seeking refreshment and conversation. I do not realize it but my face begins a grimace of pain and I begin to moan. When others were receiving their punishments I was distracted from the brutal bent position the pillory afforded me, but now I am beginning to fell it’s true horror.

Some around me are amused by the obvious pain that engulfs me. “ What did you think girl, this was going to be a day in the park?” Someone said. Then I hear Livia’s voice. “Listen to that moaning. You aren’t fooling me. Are you rubbing those skinny legs of yours together, you little whore.” Everyone in earshot laughed except me. Myles soon joins her, “ Keep that chin up, Pennyworth. You have a tough row to hoe. We are all interested to see what your made of. And of course, see your sweet little arse.” Everyone laughed once again. I can only blush and turn my head away.

Soon everyone in the upper class has taken their seat and the rest of the rowdies in front of the platform quiet, as the governor steps forward once again. His words are quick and to the point, “ Kelsey Lipton 18 with the pizzle on her bare bottom for laziness.” I watch her take the full 18 stoically but she did bleed before the last stroke stuck home. Next it was 12 with the cane over her bloomers for Dora Canter, a girl I hardly knew. She screamed loudly from the first blow and thrashed around on the bench in a wild fashion, much to the enjoyment of the crowd.

Then came Margaret Mead, a comely young girl, younger than I but also with a fire in her eye. She fights the jailers tooth and nail as they force her to the bench, even able to escape for a brief moment. As she is chased about the platform the crowd cries out encouraging her, enjoying the merry chase. The jailers embarrassed by their ineptitude, eventually apprehend her and slam her down on the bench, roughly securing her. Davey,the guard, strides behind her bending a very severe looking cane between his two hands. He reaches back quickly and delivers a viscous strike to the center of the pinioned woman’s bottom globes. Catching her unaware, she can only gurgle as her body reacts to a fiery pain scorching her bottom. Davey is showing no mercy as he slices away at her bottom. Having been bitten during the struggle of bringing the girl to the bench, he wants his pound of flesh. The girl is screaming loudly now, her blood starting to splatter from the bloody welts the rod was inflicting. Finally the last stroke hits home, the crowd applauds Davey’s prowess, and the semi-conscious girl is led away.

The governor steps forward, “ Now it is time for a new wrinkle for punishment day. One of Bridewell’s primary benefactors has requested to wield the birch today. For his generosity to this institution, we have agreed. Would Myles Cowerd please step forward.” I could see him stand from his seat on the platform. I could see him remove his jacket and hand it to Livia. I can see him look me in the eyes as he reaches into an earthen jar and pulled out a heavy birch rod that has been steeping in vinegar. He flicks it toward me, to rid the rod of excess moisture. Vinegar splatters my face, getting into my eyes, burning them causing me to blink in pain. The governor continues “ Mr Cowerd would you please bare the prisoner and begin the two dozen strokes with the heavy birch rod”.

My body shakes as I feel his hand upon me. Why does it have to be him to bare me, why not one of the guards? I feel the flush of embarrassment as he slowly pulls my shift over my bottom and down my legs leaving me as naked as the day I entered this world. He touches my bottom with his left hand “ Such a lovely bottom you have, Pennyworth, a fine canvas to decorate. We will work on shades of red today, shall we, all the way to bloody red. Perhaps shades of black and blue by the “morrow. Your already showing a lovely pinkness to your skin.” I shuddered as he whispered something that only I could hear. “ Do you wish to whore out that sweet little ass of yours. May-haps we find out on my next midnight visit.”

As he makes his way behind me, everyone becomes quiet, and the realization of my nakedness falls heavily upon me. I stand bent, without a stitch of clothing, with hundreds of strangers eyes upon me. I am to be beaten by a man who truly dislikes me. A man who does not see me as a human being but rather as just a body to ravage any way he sees fit. It has only been months but I can barely remember my life before Bridewell. Will I ever know anything but hate, deceit, and pain. Is this my future? is this the life l will live going forward?

The heavy impact of the first blow dissects my bottom cheeks and sends all other thoughts from my brain. This birch is heavier, the impact painful with the first stroke unlike the light birch they used on my back. By the third stroke the nerves in my backside are firing out pain signals that radiate through my whole body. The pain is so overwhelming with the fourth stroke that my body slams forward and my shoulders impact the rough wood of the pillory. I scream loudly and my feet dance upon the platform as the fifth and sixth strokes strike in the same place. There is a brief respite. I see his wife , Livia, bent forward intently watching me suffer. She smiles at me but I avert my eyes.

The next stroke impacts the back of my thighs, a very tender area. I am thankful that my buttocks have received some respite but the relief is short lived as the 8th and ninth strokes scald the back of my legs. The pain is very intense as it races down my legs and along my spine. I am screaming full throated screams now… trying to turn my body this way and that…trying to avoid a direct hit by the birch rod. I feel the skin on the back of my thighs burning like my back did but I also feel the bruising from the heavier cane. The pain now runs deeper beneath my skin and is unrelenting. By the twelfth stroke I am mad from the pain. I doubt that I will ever be able to sit again. The crowd shows their appreciation with applause for the work of the Bridewell benefactor.

There is a respite as Myles Cowerd fetches a fresh birch from the jar and seeks a drink from the hand of his wife. They laugh about something and Livia continues to smile as her husband once again takes his place behind me and to my left. I brace for the first stroke of the second dozen. I remember the second dozen administered to my back some hours ago. The sting of the birch is unrelenting and almost unbearable but bear it you must. I am expecting the first stroke on my bottom but instead Myles decides to attack my burning thighs once again.

The 13th stroke has some venom as it strikes the flesh already burning from the previous strokes. I scream and writhe, as the stinging pain engulfs me once again. After two more viscous strokes, I am delirious with pain and my screams over-ride the cheering of the crowd. Stroke 16 is by far the worst stroke so far. It feels like like a swarm of hornets have attacked me all at the same time, but there is a deeper fiery pain I feel. Unbeknownst to me, the skin on the back of my thighs has begun to shred and rivulets of blood have begun to run down my legs. The aristocrats see it immediately and become more animated and much louder. The commoners in front of the platform are unawares but during the next two strokes, droplets of my blood start spraying around the platform. They too get loud, cheering on my punisher on with great fervor. By the time Myles finishes with the back of my thighs, I can feel the blood trickling down the back of my legs.

The first of the last six to strike my bottom makes me jump and the pain is the worst yet. I am correct is guessing that the tender skin of my backside has been shredded too. The nerves under the skin send painful waves throughout my body. I rise upon my tip toes trying to will the pain away to no avail. The crowd all around me becomes rowdy by the sight of blood once again. Another strike, I shudder in pain. I feel the blood flowing. I am sure I can not withstand any more. Each strike is exponentially worse than the last. I begin to see red as my bottom is ablaze. I jump with each blow and the crowd loudly applauds my whipper.

I once again rise on my tiptoes and my body shudders and shakes as the birch rips my tender skin. My blood is flowing now, I can feel and hear it dripping onto the platform. The birch is spraying blood upon me… my blood. My head rears back and I scream like the wounded animal that I am. The haze of red in my vision turns to black as I mercifully lose consciousness. They throw cold water in my face to revive me.

They call for the physician to check on me. I feel him touching me all over in places that have nothing to do with my bleeding backside. He declares me as a bleeder and under great stress. He tells the governor that he recommends that I am not fit enough to receive the paddle today, but also that he believes the remaining strokes of the birch can do no further harm. Before he reaches his seat on the platform, Myles strikes with a viscous stroke. My head rears back once again as the horrible fury of the pain burns through me. He steps into the final stroke and my scream is cut short once again as blackness overcomes me.

They carry me ,unconscious, to the prison hospital. I do not hear the governor’s announcement “anyone who is disappointed that they did not see Pennyworth’s complete sentence executed, is welcome to see her punished with the paddle, and any other punishments earned, at the next scheduled punishment day.” I did not hear the crowd roar in response. Nor did I hear the Matron promise Livia that she would be happy to schedule a Capstan room session for me with Livia and her lady friends as soon as I had healed. When I regain consciousness lying on my stomach in the prison hospital, I dream for just a second, that I lay in my own bed, in my own house, near my dress shop. But the pain in my bottom brings me quickly back to reality. I realize that my life, whatever it may be moving forward, is completely at the mercy of this brutal place they call Bridewell.
( to be continued )

 

[bripuk]

The female bottom is very resilient . She will be ready to have it paddled soon.

 

[Tiredny]

Great story!

Unfortunately, we missed Lydia Best's punishment of 12 strokes with the Bridewell paddle. I'm hoping someone will share with Pennyworth how it went.

One final comment. I really liked the way you posted on the workroom wall all of the sentences for punishment day. That was a very nice touch.

 

[The Beast]

Great story!

Unfortunately, we missed Lydia Best's punishment of 12 strokes with the Bridewell paddle. I'm hoping someone will share with Pennyworth how it went.

One final comment. I really liked the way you posted on the workroom wall all of the sentences for punishment day. That was a very nice touch.

Of course Aslin should know well what will happen with her bottom during the second turn of her "Welcome".

Great chapter. Introducing the possibility for someone from the audience to administer the punishment is a great idea.

 

[Aslin nee 8ball]

Bridewell, My Penance, My Pain. Chapter 16

I dare not move or the pain starts anew. I lay on my stomach upon the hospital bed, my head turned toward the bed next to me. Occupying that bed is my bed partner from the woman’s dormitory, Elsbeth. Attending to her wounds are the prison surgeon and several of his assistants. They have to hold the big woman down when they swab her back with the brine solution. Extra help is needed when the surgeon begins to stitch closed several of the deep cuts left by the viscous cat-of-ninetails. I actually feel sorry for Elsbeth. She is treated roughly with little compassion.

Soon the last prisoner Lydia Best is brought in after her punishment. I just get a glimpse of her beet red buttocks as two guards lead her past me to a bed across the room. I can tell by her heaving shoulders that she is still sobbing heavily. In obvious pain, she too is laid upon her stomach which gives me a better look at her bottom. It appears swollen and the skin looks bruised and raw but I see no blood.

My attention reverts back to Elsbeth as the surgeon and his helpers complete her treatment. I can see the tears running down her cheeks. “ Are you alright Elsbeth?” I ask.”Why do you care,Pennyworth?” She snaps back at me. I respond “ Though, for some reason, you seem to dislike me Elsbeth, I wish you no ill will. There is too much hate in this vile place already. I do not wish to add to it.” She closes her eyes and turns her head away from me without uttering a response.

Soon the doctor and helpers tend to my back and bottom. I cry out when they swab my wounds with the brine solution, the raw skin burns like fire. I feel the doctors hands on my backside gently touching my damaged skin but soon a hand moves slowly between my legs and his finger slides up between my nether lips. I stiffen and flail with my arms and legs, catching the surgeon in the groin with my right heal. He doubles over, pulling away from me, in obvious pain.

“ Pennyworth, you bitch” he shouts “ I try to show you a bit of personal kindness and you attack me so.” I retort “ I have no want for such “ personal kindness” from you or anyone else at Bridewell.” He looks back as he backs away from me, still in pain, and says,“ The governor will get a full report on your misbehavior. I’m sure that he will prescribe something adequate to adjust that poor attitude of yours, Pennyworth.” They move away from me to attend to another prisoner. It is quiet for a moment until I hear Elsbeth whisper “ Well done, Aslin. Next time kick the bastard harder, he deserves it”

For the rest of my stay in the hospital, the surgeon avoids me, choosing to save his ministrations for the younger duo of Lydia Best and Margaret Mead. Although only a few years younger than I, they are far less worldly and probably unable to gain the resolve to stand up against him. My minor wounds are tended to by the assistants. After only three days, I am one of the first discharged back to the woman’s dormitory. It is late when they bring me back. I am still unable to sit or lay on my back comfortably. The cot I share with Elsbeth is empty as her wounds don’t allow her to return as of yet. I am able to spread out on my stomach and sleep well.

When I awaken to the morning bell, I am apprehensive that my bruised and abraded bottom can withstand sitting on a hard wooden stool for the whole of the day at the spinning wheel. I clean up, brush my hair and begin to remove my shift to change into my work clothing. One of the guards Mrs Wilson taps me gently with her cane, “No need to change into your work clothes today, Pennyworth. You will stay in your shift and wait for the matron.” I stand near my cot, not wanting to sit, in only my shift and bare feet, as the other prisoners are escorted to the spinning room. A wave of apprehension flows over me…..I know this will not be good.

It is only a matter of minutes before the Matron and two guards enter the sleep dormitory. One guard stands to each side of me and they each take one of my arms as the Matron addresses me.“Penny-worth, you continue to rebel against authority. You refuse to accept that you must obey your betters, even striking the good surgeon when he was trying to help you.” I want to tell her that I do not need his idea of help but I bite my tongue as I know it will do me no good. She continues “ The governor suggested another stint at the Capstan for you but I dissuaded him. You will work the
“Barrow and stones” this day. We’ll see if that brings you to your senses. Guards take her to the courtyard.” She ordered.

I am led to the courtyard where I see a large pile of stones and a wooden wheelbarrow at one end of the dirt courtyard. I am led to the pile of stones and the guards release me as the Matron explains the process. “ Pennyworth you have one hour to move these stones all the way across the courtyard and back. You must dump all of them on the opposite side before you can return any of them to this spot. You will repeat this process for 8 hours in today. Any hour that you do not complete the full process means one hour at the Capstan this night. But not for you Pennyworth, it will be for your friend Alice Walker.”

They will torture my friend if I fail to complete the monumental task they have put before me. I have tried to distance myself from Alice, to keep her safe, but the evil of this place links her forever to me. One of the guards turns an hourglass and says “ You better get too it girl.” I bend lifting the first heavy stone to my scantily clad body, take two labored steps,and drop it into the barrow. I hurry back to the pile of stones knowing I will have to do my best to prevent my only friend any more suffering.

I work hard but it takes a while to lift all the rocks into the wheelbarrow. The guards laugh when I try to lift the full wheelbarrow, it is too heavy for me to budge. I quickly realize that it will take more than one trip to move all the rocks to the other side of the prison yard. As quickly as I can manage, I take half of the rocks back out of the wheelbarrow. I lift the wheelbarrow this time but it is very heavy and it takes me a while to navigate across the yard. I am tired by the time I empty the wheelbarrow and hurry back to get the rest of the stones.

I try to be quicker this time but my arms and legs are tired. After I have loaded the rest of the rocks ,move them to the other side, and empty the barrow; I start the process all over again. The guard yells to me , holding up the hourglass “ Over half the sand is gone, Pennyworth. You better pick up your pace, girl.” I work as fast as I can to load half the stones and head back to my starting point. I dump the stones and head back for the final load, but before I can return with the stones, the guard yells out that my time is up, there is no sand left.

I have failed. I have failed my friend Alice and she will suffer for it. After I return with the stones and dump them, the guard looks at me and smiles. “Well Pennyworth, you have just condemned your friend Alice to an hour pushing the capstan.” I plead with her “ Oh please, mam, punish me instead. Alice has done nothing.” She smiles again
“Alright Pennyworth, I’m a fair person. Bend over and grab your ankles. If you can take six of my best with the cane and not move, I won’t tell the matron about you failing. But if you move, your friend Alice will double her time at the Capstan.”

What could I do but bend over as she directs.The guard lifts my shift up to my lower back and pulls my drawers down so that my bottom is bared. “Your bottom still looks a little raw from punishment day so you best be prepared for some real pain girl” she says as she reaches way back for the first stroke. I brace myself, willing myself not to move as the first stroke impacts my bottom. A bottom that has not yet fully recovered from my birching.

I feel the impact and a split second later the explosion of pain. I yelp but maintain my position. The second stroke draws forth a scream and the pain is brutal, a more deep burning pain that will leave bruises I am sure. The third stroke strikes home and I fight the pain that follows, grasping my ankles with all of my strength so as not to move. The fourth stroke fills my eyes with tears as my body begins to quiver. Only two more I tell myself, only two more. I scream and shake violently after the fifth stroke. I honestly don’t know if I can withstand another, but I must for Alice’s sake. The final stroke is viscous, the pain almost too unbearable to manage. I fight the urge to straighten. I dig my fingernails into the skin of my ankles and hold on for dear life as my bottom burns like hell-fire. (to be continued )

 

[The Beast]

Aslin you read in my sick fantasies. Caning for unhealed buttocks is a great punishment. You give our heroine no respite in her ordeal. The wound dressing and surgeon in action was also very appealing to me.

 

[Tiredny]

Aslin, nice job! This story is coming along nicely. I also enjoyed the six of the best - a not overly harsh, but a good punishment.

We never did get to see the "Farewell". I hope that in the coming episodes there will be one.

For some strange reason "Welcomes" are fairly often written about; "Farewells" not so much. Thus you don't have a huge body of work to draw upon.

Aslin, you are limited only by your imagination. For example, I'd think the Warden would say something to the departing inmate. Right?

 

[Aslin nee 8ball]

Bridewell, My Penance, My Pain. Chapter 17

It’s finally over, I made it through “six of her best” from the guard. The fire in my bottom still burns with a fury. My eyes are tightly closed as I try to deal with this last wave of pain and I maintain the grip on my ankles not wanting to move….afraid to reach back. Afraid that I will feel my blood.

I open my eyes to see a work crew of male prisoners across the courtyard staring at me, pointing and gesturing to each other. Though I can’t hear their words, I know that they are speaking of me and my torment. I can feel the flush of embarrassment flow over me as I painfully regain a standing position and rearrange my shift to cover myself. I cross my arms in front of my chest as I realize that the shift is soaked with my sweat and clinging to my body. I look down. The material of the shift is so shear that you can see right through it. I hear the applause of the men as they clap their hands loudly. Is it for my stoicism in taking my strokes or are they showing their approval of the see-through shift and my almost naked body?

The guard turns the hourglass once again. I hurry to the stones that I have previously dumped from the barrow. With the men cheering me on I fill the barrow half full once again and start my trek across the courtyard. As I push the heavy wheelbarrow, I can feel some pain from my striped bottom but strangely the encouragement of the work crew gives me renewed energy. I care not why they cheer, just the simple fact they are cheering is enough.

I feel strong throughout the whole circuit as I finish with several minutes of sand left in the hourglass. I get an extra few minutes of rest which helps me make it through the next circuit also. It is now lunch time and my cheering group files back into the building. I am not so lucky. I remain outside as they bring me my lunch which consists of crusty bread and some sort of strong cheese. I wolf the food down, as I have had no breakfast this day, and greedily drink the water they have given me. After a short rest I am put back to my task. The men have not returned and I begin to feel stiff and tired as I lift the first rock.

I have decided to deploy a new strategy. I will take as many of the heavier rocks on the first trip as I can, making the second trip easier. That strategy works as again I finish the full circuit with time to spare. I greedily drink the water the guard offers me as the sun is high and it is very warm and the air thick. The men come back out and begin once again toiling with rakes and shovels on the far side of the courtyard. I am spurred on once again by their encouragement.

I sail through the next circuit with time to spare and extra rest but I am sweating profusely now as the day gets hotter and hotter. I drink as much water as I can, but I am starting to cramp in my legs and back. I complete that sixth hourly circuit with much pain from the cramping. Two more hours to go….two more full circuits. I begin to fill the barrow once again but I am sweating so much I have to take more time to ensure I don’t drop any stones on my bare feet. Even though I am cramping and not working as swiftly, with the cheers of the men, I finish just before the last sand flows through the hourglass. I get to drink some water but there is no rest break earned.

This is my last hour, my last circuit. I can do it, I tell myself. But my body betrays me. I don’t even get the stones moved to the other side of the courtyard. My right foot cramps on my first trip. I fall and as I try to rise I get such a cramping in the back of both thighs that I fall to the ground in a heap. I reach back to rub my painful thighs but instead my arm and back begin to cramp also. The men are urging me to rise but I can not. By the time the spasms have passed and I am finally able to regain my feet, the sand has completely flowed through the hourglass.

The guard walks over to me and says,
“ Well Pennyworth, you were doing so well, but you failed your last task. It looks like your friend Alice has a date with the Capstan tonight.” I hang my head in resignation… I have failed her again. The guard offers me a reprieve but I am not sure that I like it. “ Pennyworth, you can save your friend again by taking six more of my best….” I immediately say yes before she finishes her statement. A statement that concludes with, “Naked, in front of the men.” What could I do, I had to agree.

The guard leads me to a spot not 5 meters in front of the male workers. She tells me to remove my shift and drawers. My fingers shake as I do her bidding. Not that long ago I stood naked in the pillory, yet I feel so much more naked now. She has me clasp my hands behind my neck and bend forward toward the men, my upper body parallel to the ground. I feel my hanging breasts sway slightly as I search the group for a sympathetic face, but all I can see is lechery and sexual excitement in their eyes. What am I to expect, these are men who have not experienced a woman in years.

The first stroke catches me unawares. I yelp and my body jumps forward. I open my eyes and see all male eyes on my breasts as they sway too and fro. I see no sympathy and soon I hear a few of the men urging on the guard. “ Let her have it , mam.” “ Let’s see some tears. That didn’t even hurt her.” “Look at her shakin’ those titties at us. Make the whore scream.” I couldn’t believe they all turned on me so fast.

The second stroke hits home with a fury and I do scream this time. The third follows quickly and I start begging, “please not so hard, please mam” The pain is so bad I straighten with each blow. The men in front of me seem mesmerized as every time I straighten they can see all of me from my toes to the top of my head. I’m sure the fourth blow has drawn blood as the pain is the worst so far. I scream and my body begins to shudder.

I finally open my eyes as the men begin applauding the guard. I see a handsome man in the back of the group. His eyes lock with mine for a split second. The eyes, though sad, are kind. The fifth stroke almost brings me to my knees. My scream is long and hard. I gain some strength from the handsome man’s look and I am able to withstand the sixth and final stroke.

As the guard leads me back inside, I quickly glance at the handsome man, his look once again gives me some solace. I do not know this man but I hope we may get to meet at some point and time. The guard says “ I didn’t draw any blood from that thick hide of yours, Pennyworth, so there’s no need to go back to the infirmary.” I reach back to feel my bottom. It feels feverish and is covered with painful welts. I ask to skip my dinner and be brought back to the woman’s dormitory where I collapse face first on my bed, exhausted from my ordeal.

Even with my backside throbbing, I fall to sleep almost immediately. I didn’t hear the rest of the women come back to dormitory, nor do I hear the “candles out”bell. I sleep soundly but I am awakened by a commotion sometime in the night. I hear a guard yell “ Get up Walker. We have need of you. You have a session with the Capstan scheduled.” Alice only half awake questions her “ I have done nothing to deserve this. Why do you do this to me.” The guard quickly answers “ It’s nothing you did, Walker. Your good friend Pennyworth has given you a present. She earned you two hours pushing the wheel. Now get moving!” (To be continued)

 

[Aslin nee 8ball]

I am shocked. I suffered the cane, not once but twice, so that Alice would not have to toil under the strap turning the Capstan. We had a deal, the guard Mrs. Wilson and I. I took “six of her best” twice.
This must be a mistake but before I can make my way to the other side of the dormitory, the guards have spirited Alice away.

I rush to the door but I am blocked from leaving the room by another of the guards. I cry out “ This must be a mistake, please, let me pass. She holds her ground and says
“Get back to bed, Pennyworth, unless you want to spend the rest of the night in the closet. The matron says to tell you that only she decides the punishments here. If you dare to have any complaints, you can bring them to her in the morning. And Mrs. Wilson says she’s got six more of her best ready for ya , any time ya want em.” The guard laughs , slams the door in my face, and I hear the key turning as the door is locked.

As I slowly return to my bed, I hear the other women in the dormitory grumbling about the commotion I have caused which has awoken them. I reluctantly return to my bed knowing that sleep will evade me for the rest of the night. I lay awake, my eyes wide open. I think about my situation.

How did it ever get to this point. I didn’t even commit a crime. I married a man with debts I didn’t know about and when he died I became responsible for those debts. I wanted be a model prisoner, on my best behavior. Serve my time quietly and return to society and try once again to find my way in life. That was until this place called Bridewell happened. It has grasped me by the throat and shaken me so violently that my world has turned upside down.

Just before the morning bell the guards escort a sobbing Alice back to the dormitory. She is naked and there is enough light to see that her back is crimson from the ministration of the strap. She looks exhausted as she drops onto her bed. I want so much to go to her, to console her, to explain to her how sorry I am. But I am afraid…afraid that she will shun me. Turn me away because I have been twice responsible for her punishment. I don’t think I can deal with that right now. Besides, if I keep the distance between us maybe they will leave her alone.

Alice is now a victim of the Bridewell curse just as I am. I know how she must feel. Even though she has done no wrong, she is being punished like she is a hardened criminal. You hope and pray that at any given moment someone will step forward and stop the nightmare that has become your life. But no one cares. There is no one stepping forward to save you, you must ride the nightmare out on your own.

When the morning bell rings, we all go about our morning routines. No one speaks to me directly but that has been going on for a while. I believe that the other women are afraid to associate with me because of what has happened with Alice. I eat my breakfast at one corner of the table. No one close to me, no one speaking to me. I am happy to get back to the workday routine. I feel at home at my spinning wheel, although it is uncomfortable to sit on the hard stool with my welted bottom. I welcome the return to normalcy. After the lunch break instead to returning to our spinning wheels we are led outside into the prison courtyard where many other groups of prisoners are already assembled.

We are told that a female prisoner, part of a different workgroup has escaped this morning. The prisoner, another Alice, in fact the very person who I saw whipped at the capstan the very first day we entered Bridewell, has been captured and we are to witness her punishment. The dark haired girl is forced up the steps of the platform and her chained hands secured to a peg high on the whipping post. The governor steps forward to address the assembled prisoners.

“This woman Alice Baxter tried unsuccessfully to escape this morning. Watch what happens to someone who tries to escape from my prison and take heed.”
With that he took off his coat, rolls up his sleeves and picks up the same cat-of-ninetails that had been used on Elsbeth. As the guards rip the clothing from Baxter’s body, the governor takes up his position behind her and slightly to her left. He shakes out the whip, untangling the knotted tails, and studies his completely naked target, assessing where to land the first blow.

It only takes a few strikes to tell that the governor is no stranger to wielding the whip. His many years in the British Navy must have given him much practice. His first blow is a vertical blow that spreads the tails across the woman’s upper back. Her reaction is immediate, her body stiffens in response to the pain. The second lash, also vertical covers the lower back. It brings forth a loud yelp from the brunette. The third lower yet, impacts her buttocks and the sensitive area at the back of the thighs. Her back is beginning to redden with evident welts now from her neck to mid-thigh. She has not screamed yet but that is remedied with the fourth stroke which is a horizontal strike across the top of her back. The knotted tails criss-cross
welts from previous blows and you can tell it is painful by the way the woman’s pelvis slams against the post and the way she cranes her neck back as she screams.

Two hard blows in succession bring forth droplets of blood on the woman’s back. She is quivering at the post now, trying to fight back against the waves of pain that are flowing through her body. Captain Jack keeps raking the naked body in front of him with blow after blow until the skin begins to shred and the blood begins to flow. Alice Baxter’s screams are ear splitting now and she is begging continually for forgiveness,
“Please stop. I can’t take no more. I promise I won’t try to escape never again.”

But the governor keeps the blows coming concentrating on her buttocks as the slight dark haired woman grinds against the rough wooden post that restrains her. They had to revive her twice with buckets of cold water but the onslaught continues. Soon the blood is running in rivulets down her legs and her back and buttocks look like raw meat. One more viscous blow and Alice Baxter screams weakly and loses consciousness once again.

Governor Abbott throws the whip down to the deck of the platform and whirls to face us. “She won’t think soon of trying that again, will she? He stated “ How about any of you? Do you wish to face my ire?” You could hear not a sound, it became eerily quiet, then a collective “no” rumbles through the assemblage. I surely do not. The governor shows that he is an expert wielding the whip. A shudder runs through me. I know that I stand on shaky ground with Governor Abbott and I know that I need to tread very carefully. I do not want him to ever practice his expertise on me. ( to be continued )

 

[The Beast]

Good punishment for trying escape. Aslin interesting story unfolds.

 

[twonines]

Another great chapter, Aslin, you continue to maintain a high standard.

 

[Aslin nee 8ball]

I have added a quick chapter as I will be away on a business trip for the next two weeks. Expect more when I return.

Bridewell, My Penance, My Pain. Chapter 18

After the governor dismisses us , the women file back into the female side of Bridewell. I am near the back of the line so am one of the last women to re-enter the building. Before I reach the door, we are passed by a small group of men, probably sent to clean the blood from the platform. The same work crew that cheered me on during my stones and barrow ordeal, the same men who saw me naked and reveled in my caning.

I see the first of the men smirk as he recognizes me from yesterday. I blush as he undresses me with his eyes. His look is lustful a he remembers my nakedness. I look down and turn my head away in embarrassment. Just before I reach the door, I lift my head and once again lock eyes with the handsome man with the sad eyes. For a brief moment we maintain that eye contact, before he moves past. I see no lust in his eyes, only kindness and caring. I feel a bond with him. He is the first person at Bridewell that seems to have any compassion. But I have not yet met him. I want to meet him but will that ever happen? For the first time since I have arrived here, I feel alive. I have a reason to look to the future.

This handsome man becomes a prominent part of my dreams in the nights to come. I dream about us somehow falling in love and forging a life away from this vile place. I dream each night that he and I are entangled in the throes of love making,only to awaken to the realization that I am still a prisoner of Bridewell.

It is almost a week since we experienced our welcomes and still there is no sign of Elsbeth. She finally returns on the 7th day during the morning work session. I can’t believe it but she actually seeks me out at my corner of the lunch table and sits next to me.

I speak first, “Elsbeth are you alright. How are you recovering from your whipping.” She looks at me and replies “ I’ll be alright. It still hurts a bit. The bastard laid it to me.” Much to my surprise she adds,“ I misjudged you Aslin. I thought you was another prissy rich girl who never done no wrong, that their money couldn’t buy themself out of. But you got a toughness in ya. You ain’t no prissy rich girl.” I am shocked…another person showing me some kindness. I thank her and explain to her that she had best sit elsewhere, because anyone who openly associates with me, like Alice did, can only expect harsh treatment. She nods and moves to another table. I finish my lunch and return to my work at the spinning wheel in an uplifted mood.

I am leary of Elsbeth’s sudden show of friendship, but I am also so starved for someone to talk to, I look forward to the candles out bell. We whisper for what seems like hours that first night. She tells me about the surgeon and his roaming hands. How he keeps the younger girls extra days in the hospital, just so he can have his way with them. I tell her of the “barrow and stones” punishment and the guard tricking me into 12 of her best. I tell her of the work crew and my nakedness during the second caning.

I do not tell her of the man with the sad eyes. That is for me to keep to myself and dream about. The fact that Elsbeth takes up almost all of the bed, the fact that she thrashes about, the fact that she snores loudly ; does not prevent me from falling off into a deep sleep. I dream about that tall handsome man and I sleep soundly through the night.

Everything is fine for about another week. It is night and mid-dream, I am sleeping deeply when I feel someone shaking me. I open my eyes to see one of the night guards standing beside my bed. She says “ Time to get up Pennyworth.” I am still groggy as I rise from the bed. Elsbeth awakens and asks “ Where are you taking her?” To which the guard replies “The matron orders her to the Capstan Room, she has a visitor. Do you want to join her Barker?” I tell Elsbeth that I will be okay and the guard leads me to the door. I act like I am calm but I shudder as I think of the last time I pushed the Capstan for Miles Cowerd . He promised me he would be back soon and threatened that it will be worse the next time. It looks like that time has come.

Why does Miles Coward persecute me so. Is it not enough that he has taken four years of my life and banished me to this hellhole called Bridewell. But no, he must have another pound of my flesh. If he chooses to ravage me, will he be satisfied? Will he be sated or will he keep coming back again, and again. I will never give in to him. I will never willingly give myself to him.

As the guard leads me into the Capstan Room, I stop dead still in surprise. I see the matron surrounded by four gaily dressed women. The woman with her back to me turns and says “ Pennyworth, SO nice to see you again. I’ll wager that you never thought that I would come for a visit. But here I am, just to see you. I have brought some friends and we are ever so excited to see you put through your paces.” It is not Miles Coward who is here to persecute me but his wife, Livia.
( to be continued )

 

[Aslin nee 8ball]

Bridewell, My Penance, My Pain. Ch 19

Throughout my life I have not been one to hate others. I have always been quick to forgive and hold no ill will to those who have wronged me, but Bridewell is changing me. I thoroughly detest Livia, the wife of Miles Coward, the woman who seems to derive great pleasure in persecuting me. It seems that she has adopted me as some kind of plaything. Something she can humiliate on a whim and even share with her friends.

Matron Wilby looks at me without any sympathy “Well Pennyworth, it seems that you are one of the most popular inmates at Bridewell. My nephew Miles has paid for you to entertain his wife, Livia, and her friends. Now I expect you to put on a good show for the ladies. If I hear otherwise, I will personally take the skin off your ass with my cane. Mrs Walker, chain the little bitch to the machine. Do what the ladies ask of you. I must take my leave as I have other matters to attend to.” With that, the Matron left the room.

“ Strip to your drawers, Pennyworth” ordered the guard. “ If it’s all the same Mrs Walker, we prefer her to be completely naked. After all, there are no men to see her and be tempted, we are all women here” injected Livia Coward. “Ok, naked, Pennyworth. “ Mrs Walker ordered. My fingers are shaking as I slowly remove all of my clothing. I try to remain calm but I know my body is in full flush as the embarrassment of my nakedness flows over me.

It takes little time for Mrs Walker to chain my wrists to the cross arm of the capstan. She picks up the strap and takes up her position to my left. “ How do you wish me to begin my lady?” Mrs Walker asks Livia, who replies as the ladies take their seats at a table well equipped with fancy drink and food. “ Don’t spare the strap. We want to see what this fine filly can do. Get her up to a fast pace and let’s see how long she can maintain it. Don’t disappoint us Aslin.”

I am spurred into motion by the impact of the strap across my shoulder blades. I grimace and dig my toes into the dirt floor as I try to get this heavy machine turning. The guard follows me as I push hard, my back bent and muscles straining as I get the capstan to slowly turn. Another stroke against my straining bare buttocks causes me to jump and I yelp out loud much to the delight of my audience. I almost lose momentum but I am able to keep the machine turning.

“Faster guard, we want to see this filly in full stride” yelled one of the women. The blows start landing fast and furious, prompting me to give everything I have to increase my pace. I hear myself grunting as I push and I squeal in pain when impacted by the strap. Soon I am up to pace and the women are cheering me on . I don’t know how long I can maintain this pace, my muscles are already beginning to ache. The strap urges me on and I keep up the pace for as long as I can but eventually I lose the momentum and I slowly come to a stop. I hear Livia speak again “ Not a good enough effort, Pennyworth. Guard give her a penalty of ten strokes while she rests, all on her bottom please.

As I lean on the crosspiece of the capstan trying to catch my breath, I feel the burning impact of the first penalty stroke. I cry out in pain as the guard lands all ten strokes in the same place. My bottom is on fire, my face frozen in a painful grimace. They allow me to rest longer than I expect but not long enough to regain my strength.
We start anew with the strap across my shoulders. My second effort is not as good as my first. I am tired now and can not maintain a fast pace for any length of time. This time my penalty strokes are administered to the sensitive area at the back of my thighs. Tears stream down my cheeks and I cry out as I suffer the vicious strokes.

They put me through my paces one more time but again I am unable to maintain the pace. My back and bottom are burning. Livia tells me that they will bypass the penalty for failure for the time being. They force me to slide a heavy table from the far wall to the open center of the room. I don’t object for fear of reinstatement of the penalty strokes. I struggle with the table but eventually get it to the center of the room. I am apprehensive when I am ordered to lay atop the table, but I am afraid to anger Livia and face further punishment.

When I finally lay upon my bruised and battered back, Lydia orders the guard to secure me with ropes to the table. My hands are tied together and stretched back over my head and attached to the table. Ropes are looped around my lower thighs just above my knees and both legs are pulled to the outside . I am spread wide and the ends of the ropes tied to the sides of the table, keep me that way. I twist my head from side to side but can not prevent them from gagging me. I feel so vulnerable now and I am very fearful.

“Pennyworth, I understand that you have declined my husband the pleasures of your body. I don’t see what he sees in you. So thin, with those little tits and your scrawny ass.” Maybe you believe that you are too good for him.” Says Livia. I shake my head vigorously to deny her claim. “ Maybe, for some reason her fruit is no longer ripe” proclaims her friend Agnes. “ Let me check if it’s ripe.” says another friend Violet. She Drops her head to my crotch and I hear her sniff. “ Yes, it looks ripe and smells ripe” she proclaims.

Another of the friends, Prudence, get s into the act. “ Let me see if it feels ripe” she says as she takes Violets place. I am flushed with embarrassment by their attention to my womanhood. I squeal as I feel her insert several fingers into me. I feel her wiggling her fingers and searching until she finds the spot she is looking for. She starts to rub the little bud she found and I begin to feel a strange and wonderful tingling starting to build. Soon I am gasping for breath and my body begins to tremor. Suddenly she says “She feels ripe” and removes her fingers as I try to regain my composure.

Finally the first friend who had spoken, Agnes, takes her turn. “ Let me see if she also tastes ripe.” I feel her spread my nether lips with her fingers and I feel her warm, wet tongue enter me. Her tongue finds the same spot just vacated by Prudence. She begins to lick the sensitive bud and again my breath quickens and I feel the tingling begin to grow and grow until I can no longer stand it. My body stiffens and I cry out through the gag as a wonderful spasm moves through my body. As I collapse back onto the tabletop, Daphne proclaims, “ I do believe she is ripe!”

“ Pennyworth” asks Livia, “ Have you been denying men because your prefer another cunny? I vigorously shake my head in denial. Livia looks at the guard “ That kind of behavior merits punishment does it not?” The guard nods. Livia continues, “My father used to say that no punishment is wasted unless it addresses the problem. Guard I think that it’s time to address Pennyworth’s problem. I think that her ripe little cunny is the problem and it deserves to be punished. How about a dozen of your best. Maybe that will help her chose men over women.

I’m fighting my bonds, trying to yell thru my gag, as Mrs Walker picks up the strap and moves between my legs. My eyes widen as I see her raise her arm. I see the strap descend and brace for its impact. I hear the crack of the leather before I feel it’s bite. The pain is excruciating. My body stiffens and I rise off the tabletop, screaming through the gag. Each stroke burns worse than the previous one. After four strokes my body is shaking and steady stream tears are pouring from my eyes.

The guard turns to Livia, “would you ladies like to deliver the next four stokes”. My heart sank. Why must they punish me? Let it be the guard. Haven’t they persecuted and embarrassed me enough. The four women do not have the power or expertise of the guard. I do survive their strokes suffering more from the embarrassment than the pain. With the last four strokes administered by the guard., the pain is unbearable. I am sure that I am shredded down there. I am very thankful when Livia and her friends are through with me and about to take their leave.

Livia turns to me as she heads for the door, “Good show, Pennyworth. You are such a deceiving little vixen. I hope this helps dissuade your Sapphic tendencies. I will be sure to tell Miles of your performance. Perhaps you will now be more considerate of his offers. See you soon. I can’t wait until we can do this again.”
( to be continued )

 

[The Beast]

Very good chapter after Aslin business trip. Describing our heroine hard and painful working and her Sapphic adventures is really exciting.

 

[TortureECT]

@Aslin nee 8ball

Awesome Prison and Reformatory you have here for curing criminal and wayward Women

I would love to see if you can , with your delicious writings , and pics
Variable and different modes of torturing women other than whippings

 

[Loinclothslave]

@Aslin nee 8ball

What a delightful series, sorry I missed several chapters but what a wonderful time I had catching up… hard to pick my favourite chapter, the whipping of Alice the escapee was very hot, yet nothing comes close to Pennyworth’s ongoing despair and punishment…

 

[Aslin nee 8ball]

Bridewell, My Penance, My Pain. Part 12

It takes several weeks before the pain from Livia’s visit dissipates. It has been six months since I was first remanded to this hellhole called Bridewell. I had heard stories about the brutality of this place but nothing could have prepared me for the reality of that nonstop brutality. I have always considered myself an amiable person, able to get along with everyone. But in half a years time I have acquired more enemies than I can count on my two hands. I consider myself as one who follows the rules and obeys the laws but yet I find myself incarcerated in Bridewell prison and consistently punished for breaking rule that are both real and imagined. I strive to maintain a positive attitude but the severity of this place is testing my resolve. How will I ever survive the final 3 1/2 years of my sentence. I know that punishment day will be soon upon us and besides the usual welcome and farewell punishments, there will be disciplinary punishments. I wonder what that will mean for me, I seem to be unable to avoid any type of punishment, no matter how good my behavior. I know one thing for sure, I long for my leave of this place.

It has been a quiet several weeks with my fellow prisoners toeing the line and the guards being uncommonly decent toward us. That is soon to change and person responsible is one of the most unlikely candidates. Ashley Miller, one of the governor’s whores, is responsible for breaking the peace. She and Nita Turner had alternated sharing Governor Abbott’s bed each for a week at a time. But when Ashley was escorted back to the prisoners barracks midweek , all of the other women knew something was amiss. Normally the other prisoners chose not to associate with either Ashley or Nita, not wanting to incur the wrath of Governor Abbott. But Ashley was obviously in a surly mood which prompted some of the other prisoners to goad her. One of the main protagonists was my bunk mate Elsbeth. Elsbeth was never one to pass up the chance rattle the cage of another prisoner whether warranted or not.

As the big woman taunts her you can see the anger build in Ashley Miller. She rushes at Elsbeth who flicks her away easily with her huge left arm saying
“ Don’t blame me if the govna found a sweeter cunny than yours, girl. Maybe he’s tired of your skinny little ass.” With that Ashley barreled into the big woman causing Elsbeth to lose her balance and trip over the edge of one of the nearby beds. She fell hard striking her head against the hard floor, knocking her unconscious. Ashley was atop the prone figure in an instant, grabbing her by the hair and repeatedly slamming the big woman’s head against the floor , yelling “ How about that you fat bitch”. I moved instinctively without thought, to protect my bed mate. I wrapped my arms around Ashley trying to keep her from doing further damage to my friend. She strikes me with her elbow in the mouth, I can taste blood, but I don’t loosen my grip.

As she strikes me again, two guards rush into the room, undoubtedly alerted by the yelling of the other prisoners. I feel a jolt of pain as a belaying pin crashes into the back of my skull. As I lay n a stupor and just before everything goes black I hear Ashley Miller proclaim, “ They attacked me for no reason. Bullies they are, ganged up on me, they did. The governor will reward you for your quick action.” The next thing I am aware of is that I am lying in a bed in the prison hospital next to Elsbeth. Someone is holding a foul smelling bottle of liquid beneath my nostrils that causes me to shake my head and I regain some of my faculties. He gives me a draft, says it will help the ache in my head. I notice Elsbeth appears to be asleep or has not yet regained consciousness. After the doctor ascertains that I am ok, he moves to the bed next to me where the big woman lay. After holding the bottle beneath her nostrils and slapping her face gently, he brings her back to consciousness. The surgeon notices blood coming from Elsbeth’s ears and from a wound on her head. I watch as he gently wraps her head with clean rags. I am still somewhat groggy but I am surprised by the gentleness the surgeon shows my bedmate.

It is nearly a week before Elsbeth and I are ready to be discharged from the hospital and we have heard nothing further about the incident with Ashley Miller. On the day of discharge we are visited by Governor James Abbott. He tells us that he is happy that we are recovering but adds “I can not allow your behaviors to go unpunished. I must make an example of those inmates who refuse to maintain the peace. You will both be part of the festivities on punishment day, three weeks hence. Miller is not without blame and she will join you on the punishment platform that day. I expect your behavior to be exemplary until that time or it will be all the worse for you. He told k his leave and we were sent back to our workgroup later that afternoon. It actually felt good to get back behind the spinning wheel.

During the next week, a week that was without incident, I was suddenly called to the governors office. I walked hesitantly, wondering how I could spurn his advances this time. I remembered how he had looked at me when he had addressed Elsbeth and I in the hospital. I could see the lust in his eyes. Maybe he was tiring of his two concubines Ashley and Nita, or maybe he was interested in acquiring a third body. Either way, I was not going to give in to him. I will be no-one’s whore. Her Weber it was a totally different proposition that he presented to me.

The guards led me into the governor’s office and I stood obediantly at attention in front of his desk. “Pennyworth, it appears that Miles Coward has produced further debts incurred by your dead husband that have not yet been addressed in court. The gravity of which, would mean that your sentence will be increased by 6 to 8 years.” My heart sank, I cant imagine being here in Bridewell for 12 years. “ This must be a mistake” I said. “Oh, it’s no mistake. But Lady Luck may be finally smiling upon you. I hold in my hand a contract, that when signed by you will grant you your freedom from this place now and forever.” He responded. My heart now kept as I reached for the paper. “Anything to free myself from this God forsaken place,” I cried out. My hands shake as I read its contents. I stop reading when I get to the part that says “indentured servitude”. What does this mean I ask.

“ Pennyworth, it is very straightforward” the governor says. “ Miles Coward is willing to pay a tidy sum for your release, with the stipulation that you sign the contract that indentures you to he and his wife Livia for the next twenty years. In other words, you are trading 12 years of hell in Bridewell for twenty years of comfortable servitude to the Cowards.” I swallow the lump that is forming no in my throat. “ I will not sign this. I will be no ones slave. I would rather suffer through 12 years in Bridewell than spend one hour in servitude to anyone, man or woman.” The Governor’s face drew dark with anger as he grabs a cane from his desk and slams it down upon the desktop with a loud crack. “How dare you refuse. You choose to take money out of our pockets because of your pride, you bitch. I’ll see that pride beaten out of you. Guards! Guards!
Take this prisoner and lock her in the closet. She will beg me to sign this contract before I am through with her.” My mind screams, ‘please not the
closet ! No, not the closet !’ ( To be continued )

 

[Aslin nee 8ball]

Bridewell, My Penance, My Pain. Part 22

I fight tooth and nail with my guards as they march me toward the place that is called “the closet”. Anyone who has had to suffer this terrible punishment, never wants to suffer it a second time. This time, unlike previously, the guards force me to shed all of my clothing before I am forced into the tight place and the heavy door is slammed shut confining me to this dark and narrow space. Why naked? I think to myself and then it dawns on me.

I was clothed when I was previously imprisoned in the closet but that was for a definite amount of time. I had spent only hours in the closet at night, only until the morning bell rings. It seemed like an eternity but in reality my stay was short lived. The stay was so short in fact that the guards found it highly unlikely that I would have to relieve myself. Suddenly a chill ran through me as I realized that they had stripped me because this time my stay in the closet was to be interminable. I have no idea how long I will remain in these cramped quarters and I am very afraid that an extended stay could very well drive me mad.

I begin to perspire profusely. My bent back aches and my feet hurt as I try to maintain a non painful position. Pretty soon the muscle spasms begin. The cramping becomes so painful that I cry out and tears begin to flow down my cheeks. There is no comfortable position in the closet and there is no sleep because of the constant pain. I am constantly trying to shift my weight the small amount the space allows, but no position is comfortable but for a few moments. My feet begin to ache as I cannot take the pressure of my full weight off them. The large muscles in my calfs and thighs rave continually cramping for lack of being able to stretch. My back and neck are in constant spasm as I am unable to straighten either of them. My arms shake as I try to stabilize myself by pushing against the walls of the space.

I begin to think the awful thoughts that plagued me the last time I had to suffer the closet. I feel once again that I might not survive this ordeal. That I will die suffering in pain and no one will hear or see me. I will die alone in this awful space and no one will shed a tear for me. I must fight these thoughts and try to not let this punishment break me. I know that a life of servitude to Miles and his bitch of a wife, Livia, is out of the question. I would sooner take my own life. I will never sign that cursed contract. Never!

My mind starts to play tricks on me and I begin to flow in and out of consciousness. I begin to experience mini- nightmares. I dream that I am falling off a cliff and as my body jerks as I believe I am crashing to the ground. I bang my head and right shoulder hard and the pain jolts me to awareness. I nod off again, this time I dream that the space is filling with water and drowning me slowly. I jerk awake again gasping for air. I dream that that there are things crawling on the walls...hundreds of spiders. I dream that I can hear snakes slithering on the floor of the closet only to realize that I have emptied my bladder.

I do not know how long I have occupied the closet when they finally come for me. I can not stand on my own and I babble nonsensically. The governor can tell that I am in no condition to continue with the punishment. The next thing I remember is awakening in the hospital bed. I feel like my mouth is filled with cotton as the staff began to force liquids and soup on me. It takes several days before I feel like I hadlve my strength back. After three days I am released back to the woman’s dormitory. I am apprehensive about returning, knowing that the governor could return at any moment to persecute me. But he is likely biding his time, letting me feel the apprehension of waiting for his next move. I know that I have not felt the full wrath of that man and I am very fearful of what he has planned for me.

I notice that Elsbeth still has issues with her memory. She still does not remember the tussle with Ashley, the circumstances leading to her injury nor does she remember the governors threat of punishment on the next punishment day. One benefit of her head injury is that her demeanor seems to have changed. I find her far more agreeable, less aggressive and much more caring. We have actually developed a type of friendship that I had previously felt impossible.

Everything is relatively calm at Bridewell until we received our first new prisoner in a fortnight. Her name is Phillis Potter, a streetwise trollop who arrives with aires of being the dominant personality at Bridewell. Of course that does not sit well with some of the others with strong personalities, who feel challenged by this newcomer who is disrupting the hierarchy of the prison population. It leads to many a squabble and exchange of words and Eventually to physical altercations. The guards, you can tell, are not enamored with her cheekiness and her constant bullying of the other prisoners.

One morning Phyllis gets into a verbal altercation with my bedmate Elsbeth over a piece of soap. The argument escalates into an all out fight between the two with the other prisoners making a circle around the combatants, yelling and screaming. Almost all are cheering on Elsbeth who had gotten the best of the newcomer and is sitting atop her and grasping Phyllis’ hair with one hand and slapping her head back and forth with the other hand. Just then several guards brake the circle of prisoners and grab both combatants.

I am sure that Elsbeth and Phillis are both in for it but the guards tell Elsbeth to go back to her bunk and ready herself for her work shift. They roughly escort Phyllis from the room. After dressing and preparing ourselves for our workday we are led to the workroom. We notice immediately that the table that we usually use to partake breakfast is adorned with the tied body of Phyllis Potter, bending over the edge of the table with her bottom bared. Beside her stood Matron Wilby, holding a viscous looking cane in her hands. “I’m afraid that all of you will have to wait on breakfast.” She says. “With Governor Abbott away, I feel there is a matter that commands my immediate attention.”

With that she begins to immediately rain viscious blows upon the naked backside of the tied woman. “You will learn to obey you little vixen or I will flay the very skin off your misbehaving arse” the Matron says stepping into a brutal stroke. It does not take many blows before the tied body is bucking and her screams are echoing in the chamber. Soon she is begging for mercy but her pleading had little effect on the matron as she continues to administer the strokes. The heavy table is actually moving to and fro as the violent movements of the victims body cause the legs of the table to lift from the floor.

An especially violent stroke causes the Matrons cane to splinter and break the welted skin of the victim and for the first time blood was drawn. I fully expect the beating to cease at that point but the matron calls for another cane and the onslaught continues.The skin on Phyllis’ backside is ripping now with each new blow.

Blood is all over the new inmates bottom and droplets can be seen on her back and upper thighs. “ Please stop. I’m sorry” begged the newcomer “ I will be a good girl I will. Please stop!” But I have never seen the matron so angry. “ You have been nothing but an obstinate bitch since you arrived, Potter.” The Matron blurts out through panting breaths. “ You’ll not sit or lie on your back for months. Continue your vile behavior and I will strip the skin from your neck to your knee hollows!”

I closed my eyes but I can still hear the sodden impact of the Matron’s cane on Potters bleeding backside. Her screams begin to lessen in volume until she mercifully loses consciousness, at which point, the Matron orders her taken to the prison hospital. All of us are relieved that it has not been us subjected to the ire of Matron Wilby. We are happy when she finally takes her leave but not before she posts a notice on the wall. It is what I have been dreading, a list of the scheduled punishments for the next punishment day.
( to be continued)