Best Laid Plans

May 6, 1896
Elizabeth Bassett

I awoke with a start in the early morning hours. It was the dream again. The one with the strange girl who seems so familiar, the one where she is captured by men hiding in the underbrush of the forest. Why does this dream keep coming back? What could it mean? For these questions and more, I have no answers.

Penelope was awake although she barely turned her head despite my sudden sitting position.

“Bad dreams again?” She whispered.

I nodded my head and then realized in the darkness, she probably could not tell.

“Yes.” I replied. “What about you?”

“Not tired.”

“Something on your mind?” I probed delicately.

Since our roommate, Jenny, was expelled our room had been a place of taut tension. Lucy blames Penelope for what happened to Jenny and feels she is next on her list. It all seems such a strange turnabout from a few weeks ago. Then the three girls had been the best of friends, excluding me from everything. Now there were no friends in this room only wary acquaintances.

“Nothing important. I am looking forward to going home.”

“A restful summer is what we all need.”

I laid my head back down on my pillow.

The morning bell rang far too soon. I was only just beginning to doze again when the clang echoed through. Penelope was out of bed and through the door before the first chime settled. No doubt she wanted to be the first to bathe and therefore avoid the long lines.
I sighed and decided to follow her, first in line is better than last.

Two hours later I stood on the steps of Carrington Manor, clad in my brown culottes and white blouse. At the bottom of the steps Jonathon waited, looking up at me. My heart fluttered and my face flushed as I realized he was staring at me.

I slowly descended toward him measuring my steps carefully to avoid the embarrassing tumble my weak knees felt certain to afford me. He looked far too regal for school in his gray suit and black tie. I tried to contain myself but felt certain I was smiling like an idiot.

“Good morning, Miss Bassett.” He said stiffly.

“Good morning.”

“May I walk you to school?”

“You may.”

I took his arm and proudly walked at his side. If I could only convince myself he was sincere in his interest, I would be singing with the birds themselves. Despite my reservations, every nerve in my body tingled with the happy anticipation of his touch. What I would not give for a single kiss of those lips, I do not know.

“Have you been well?” He asked as we began our stroll.

“Yes, and you also?”

“Quite. I have missed your company.”

“I am not so difficult to find.”

“I did not mean the fault was yours.”

I blushed, embarrassed at my assumption.

“Perhaps, I have been too quick to judge.” I ventured.

“We all have our flaws.”

“Will you forgive me?”

I bit nervously at my lip, afraid I might cry if he said he would not.

“I would forgive you anything, but as I said before, the fault was not yours.”

I looked at him, curious as to his meaning.

“I am not given to bluntness but blunt I have been. Your friend, Penelope tried to explain it to me and I was deaf.”

“You never fancied her, did you?”

“No, never. I approached her to learn more about you.”

He seemed embarrassed by the admission.

I giggled.

“My discomfort amuses you?”

“No, your assumption does.”

“Please, explain.”

“Penelope is my roommate and a fellow Primrose Girl, but we are not especially close, nor have we ever been.”

“Then you have not had a falling out?”

“We have had our differences, we always have from our first day here. I do not always approve of her or she me.”

“I see.”

“I think I see now as well.”

“Illumination does not always come in the form of light.”

“An interesting phrase, I like it. Who wrote it?”

“No one I know. It is a phrase of my father’s and I think now I might understand it as he has meant it.”

“Philosophical in nature but practical in application. My father is not so versatile. His phrases of insight are borrowed and old.”

“My father would like you I think. You have a singular charm and intelligence not often encountered.”

I blushed again and walked mute, unable to conjure a suitable response.

“I have embarrassed you.”

“No--Yes. I am uncomfortable with compliments.”

“You must be uncomfortable all the time.”

“No, I rarely receive them.”

“I think you jest.”

“You are too kind.”

“Is that a good or bad trait?”

I paused, thoughtful for a moment.

“Both and neither. It is the rest of the man which determines it not the girl beside him.”

He smiled.

“You and my father will get along wonderfully.”

We turned the corner and up ahead, looming ever closer, was Primrose Hall. I felt the walk far too short for the first time. Jonathon seemed to notice as well.

“I wanted to ask you.” He paused to look directly at me.


“You might want to hear the question first.” He smiled.

I giggled.

“Your teasing me!” I slapped playfully at his arm.


His eyes winked with amusement.

“Go on then, ask your question.” I prompted.

“At the end of the spring term there is a tradition. The junior class embarks on a voyage at sea for a month. The night before we leave, there is a celebration aboard ship, a ball if you will.”

I nodded. He appeared unsure of himself.

“Would you give me the honor of your company at the ball?” He finally asked.

I lowered my head for a moment considering my words.

“You have not asked Penelope and been turned down?” I asked.

“I thought… No… uh.” He stammered.

I could not contain my amusement and laughed. He looked at me. His face went from consternation to joy and he joined me in laughing at himself.

I could have stayed in the moment forever but sadly it could not last so long. Time seems always shortest when it should be longest.

“I would be most honored to accompany you.” I answered.

“If I may be so bold, it would be my pleasure to take you shopping this Saturday.”

My heart skipped a beat as I realized he expected me to purchase a new gown for the event. All my happiness at being asked faded away as my mind raced to determine where I would find the money to buy a dress.

“If you are previously engaged I understand.” He said as my silence became uncomfortably long.

“Yes, I am sorry. Can we schedule it for the following Saturday?”

“I will arrange to fetch you at 9AM.” He nodded.

“I must get to class.”

“Yes, hurry along.” He smiled.

I gave a half curtsey and then turned and practically skipped up the steps despite the worry falling over me.

Approaching Mr. Green’s class I realized I had the perfect excuse to my peers for being tardy. Undoubtedly I will regret it but this could be a golden opportunity to get the key Edith wants. I hung back from the door until I was sure I was late.

I came through the door appearing flustered. It would not do for anyone to suspect me of intentionally being late. The class was silent. They stared at me as I entered.

Mr. Green did not even turn his head.

“Miss Bassett, how nice of you to grace us with your presence.”

“I am sorry, sir.”

“No doubt you think I should spare you because of the fact.”

“No, sir.”

How I hate playing the silly game with self-indulgent masters like Mr. Green. The words are almost as painful as the spankings.

“Seeing as you have made us wait I believe I will make you wait. Strip yourself and take your seat. Your butt will burn at the end of class.”

Quickly, I did as I was told, my face burning in the meantime. No doubt he thought it humorous. I think the hardest part was the lack of sympathy from my peers. You would think, having all suffered under his cruel reign we would find a camaraderie in the punishments, but instead he succeeded in creating an atmosphere of dissention. We were each only too happy to see another suffer as long as it was not our self.

Stripped down to nothing more than bloomers, my head shot upward as the door opened. Edith walked in looking nervous. Her eyes fell on me and her expression changed to one of shock. Mr. Green turned to her.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” She asked.

“Indeed not but clearly you wished to see me.”


“I have received a copy of your essay.”

"Essay? I am sorry sir?"

“Do not play coy with my girl! You know well enough what essay.”

“Yes, sir.”

Edith bowed her head.

“Strip.” He ordered her.

She looked up at him in surprise. I think she was about to argue before realizing it would only make matters all the worse.
I finished removing my bloomers and took my shame to sit in my chair. Mr. Green leered at me. I could feel his lust for my bosom through the vacant air between us. I flushed redder, praying for the fast passage of time I had earlier cursed.

Edith wasted no time in stripping her clothing. She stood naked, hands calmly resting at her sides. It was not her calmness which I noticed the most though, it was her lack of embarrassment. She stood almost proud before Mr. Green and everyone else.

He noticed it as well. His large hand slapped her face leaving a white imprint of it on her cheek. Her head turned with the impact but came back straight. Her pride did not falter. He slapped her again.

Her faced darkened but it was not embarrassment gracing her cheeks. It was anger coursing through her veins and God only knows what kept her from slapping him back.

He grabbed hold of her right nipple and led her by it to the dunce stool. He picked her up and sat her down on it. His hand slapped her face yet again and then he placed the white cap on her head.
She stared downward. She had clearly prepared herself for the situation and while I could practically feel her anger from across the room I could also sense her control.

She gave me strength in my own plight. I realized we were in control. We had chosen the paths leading us to this point and we had manipulated him for own purposes. His pleasure from the punishments he was to bestow upon was not as he thought. He was a fool to be played like the violin in my hands.

At the end of class we were both ordered over his desk. Exactly where we wanted to be. As I laid myself next Edith on the desk, I gave her a wry smile. She returned it. I had not known she would do this on her own and I had not told her I had decided to go ahead with it.

Our bottoms pushed out toward the class and Mr. Green. On any other day I would have been praying to become part of the desk. Today I prayed he would be so captivated by our charms he would fail to notice our fumbling through his drawer.

He picked up his yardstick and cracked it down on the desk beside Edith. We both jerked slightly. He took pleasure in it.

He stepped behind Edith first. In a flurry he delivered five strokes, driving her up on her toes. She took advantage and slipped her hand down to slide his drawer open a crack.

He moved behind me. I braced myself for the onslaught. Five fast and furious drove me forward as well but I lost the presence of mind to search for the key.

Back behind Edith he took careful aim at the crease between buttocks and thighs. Six fast strokes landed with a sound as if they were one. Edith bit down on a groan of pain.

Her hand fumbled in the drawer.

Mr. Green took his place behind me and delivered six in the same spot as Edith. I was not as brave. I cried out in pain. Tears stung at my eyes.

He moved back to Edith. Seven measured strokes landed, spaced evenly from the center of her buttocks to the top of her thighs. She cried out on the last two. Tears sprung from her passionate eyes. Her hand came free from the desk with the key firmly in her grasp.

I smile despite myself.

Mr. Green let loose with seven strokes applied in similar fashion to Edith’s last. I cried out and tears fell freely.

“Stand by the door.” He ordered me.

Edith quickly shoved the key into my open mouth. I nearly spit it out in surprise but contained myself just in time. I picked myself up slowly and moved carefully to the spot he indicated. My buttocks stung hotter with each step.

Mr. Green took up his place behind Edith again. He raised the yardstick high in the air. With a swoosh it rained down on her. He swung like a wild man. The yardstick bouncing off her buttocks in a blur and then flying back into them with a crack.

Edith began to shift from side to side under the onslaught. She moaned and cried until finally she could take no more. Her buttocks glistened red. “Please, no more!” She pleaded.

Mr. Green paid no mind and continued swinging, harder and faster. Edith’s pleas became sobs. Her sobs became wails.

At last God had mercy on her for Mr. Green had none. The yardstick broke sending splinters through the air.

Infuriated by the yardstick’s betrayal, he grabbed a handful of Edith’s hair and yanked her upward. His hand slapped her hard across the face sending her sideways to the floor.

“If you ever write such disgusting lies about me again, I will make this feel like a slap on your wrist!” He bellowed.

She cried at his feet. I wanted nothing more than to go to her and hold her in my arms. It was only fear that held my feet in place.

Mr. Green dismissed the class.

We remained standing side by side, tears decorating our cheeks. He handed each of us a box. We looked at him with questioning eyes.

“Put your things in them,” He ordered. “Neatly.”

We each did. I carefully folded each discarded item of my clothing while wondering why he would have us do such a thing.

Our boxes respectively filled we stood again waiting for further instructions.

He took the boxes from us.

“You may leave now.” He said dismissing us.

Our eyes bulged in disbelief.

“I will send your things along later to Mrs. Carrington along with a note on how I expect her to deal with you two. Now get out of my sight.”

We left.

At the front door of Primrose Hall we stood together. I held the key in my hand. The prospect of the long walk to Carrington Manor loomed over us.

“He can’t really expect us to go out there like this.” Edith said.

“Clearly he does.”

“I’m sorry Lizzie, I didn’t mean for this.”

“We got what we wanted at least.” I said holding up the key.

We sighed collectively and pushed through the front door to begin the humiliating walk home. There was no one about until we arrived at the first corner.

There, across the street from us was a group of young men. They looked as though their eyes would pop from their heads when they saw us. All but one that is.

Jonathon stood in the midst and his face reddened with anger. He grabbed at the arms of his friends and pulled them away from us. He did not give me a second look but ignored us.

I believe my worries over buying a dress are no more.


Anonymous said...

They didn't really make the girls walk naked in the streets!?!

Wonderfully written, keep it up. I look forward to your stories every day.

Paul said...

Great post!!! Would really like to see the spankings in more detail.

Jen said...

jonathon better not dump her again I'll cry

1slave1love said...

That Mr. Green is a cruel bastard. I love him. >:)

Anonymous said...

For just a moment I could imagine I was reading a work by Jane Austen.

This was a real treat. Thank you,


Dave said...

Totally awesome definitely the best new stories I've seen anywhere


Anonymous said...

Due to my travels, I am unable to keep abreast of all the instalments, but this was a true beauty that I happened to catch. Well done, girls!
Mr R Fane