May 21, 1896
Penelope Sumter
Penelope Sumter
The sunrise woke me before the bell and that is normally a good sign for the day. I cannot explain it but there is something very special about waking up to the warm sun on your face. I was first to the bath again and that also makes for a good day. Therefore you can understand my feelings of betrayal when I arrived downstairs for breakfast to find Remington.
Mr. Carrington was talking quietly with him near the table and they both looked at me when I entered the room. Between their two expressions I felt certain rain clouds had just moved in over my head. Despite a sudden desire to go back to bed and wait for tomorrow I continued toward them with a polite smile gracing my lips.
“Good morning.” I said.
They replied in kind.
“Might I have a word?” Mr. Carrington asked gesturing down the hall toward his study.
“Certainly.” I said feeling as though my entire body was trembling in nervous anticipation.
The serious look on his face told me I was not going to like this talk.
Behind closed doors, he offered me a chair. I sat, relieved to not be bending over it. He looked nervous now that we were alone. His hand shook slightly as he reached into his jacket and retrieved a letter. He handed it to me.
“Here. Read this, I think it will explain better than I can.”
Dear Mr. A. Carrington,
I have received this morning some very disturbing news. I have it on good authority, my daughter recently participated in a meeting of the school board. I find it disturbing I was not notified in advance of such an occurrence however I find the subject matter of even greater disturbance.
It is clear from my daughter’s words to the school board she has fallen under sour influences while in your care. Be it known I intend a formal complaint over these matters. How the school board could allow my daughter or any woman to testify before it on matters as political as the joining of male students in the woman’s college is beyond my comprehension. Furthermore, where such a student is called upon to make statements it would be only proper that her guardian be informed well in advance.
Had I the opportunity to discuss my daughter’s testimony in advance of the occasion I have no doubt she would have avoided bringing shame to our family name. It is regrettable you had not the foresight to intervene.
Rest assured I do not hold Penelope fully responsible for her actions. She is a bright young lady but in the matters of politics such as these it is expected her opinions be questionable and unfounded in logic. Still I see no alternative but to insist she receive proper chastisement for her ridiculous and shameful antics at the aforementioned meeting of the board.
Ordinarily, I would ask any such chastisement be delivered from you but in this case I believe it unfair to Penelope as clearly you are more guilty than she. I ask you inform Penelope of my request, and allow the young man, Mr. R. Drake, to carry out my wishes.
As for yourself, I expect a formal apology to myself and my daughter to be recorded on the minutes of the next meeting of the school board. I also, demand it be noted that neither myself, nor my daughter advocate any radical changes in the operations of Brown University or Primrose College.
Sincerely,
Radcliffe Sumter
I read the letter three times. I thought perhaps it might magically change before my eyes. No such luck. Mr. Carrington remained silent and patiently waited for me to digest the bad news.
“I don’t understand.” I said to him.
“Mr. Drake is here, at you r father’s request, to punish you for your statements before the school board.”
“No. I don’t understand how he could know.”
“Your father has connections throughout the University. Undoubtedly one of them informed him.”
I nodded still reeling from the shock. Being punished for speaking my mind was bad enough but from a man I despise is near intolerable. I contemplated refusing to accept it until hearing from my father directly but discarded it as a bad idea. My father would not take kindly to further disruption on a matter he considers resolved.
“I know I should not contradict your father, but I must express my approval for the manner in which you handled yourself at the very meeting he condemns. You did yourself and Primrose College proud.” Mr. Carrington said.
I gave a half-hearted smile to him in response. No amount of exaltation will change the hard reality of my father’s wishes and my impeding doom at the hands of none other than Remington.
A quiet knock on the door brought that doom a step closer.
Mr. Carrington opened the door with a sympathetic look on his face. I was not surprised to see Remington waiting on the other side of the door. He was not grinning but he still managed to look intolerably smug.
No doubt I will have to redouble my efforts to entrap him in some mischief as I have already succeeded with Lucy and Jenny. He, more than they, was complicit in my public whipping and shame. He no doubt was somehow complicit in my father’s knowledge of the meeting and he had better watch his back after this incident for I swear before God I will not rest a single night until he suffers a worse humiliation than I.
Remington and Mr. Carrington exchanged quiet words to which I paid no attention. After a moment, Mr. Carrington stepped out and Remington stepped in. He closed the door behind himself before turning his attention to me.
“It is agreeable to see you again, Penelope. I regret the circumstances are not better.” He said.
“We are alone you can save your flattery.”
“Whether you approve or not I will not set aside my manners. It is clear as your father states, you have been corrupted here.”
“If speaking my mind is corruption than it is true and I am unapologetic for it.”
“You do not speak your mind but your heart.”
“Do not presume to know my mind or my heart.”
“I know you better than you think.”
“If you imply my thinking is flawed more than your knowledge of me then you are arrogance incarnate.”
“We could go round and round the whole day, your whit is sharp, your tongue sharper and believe it or not I respect you for it.”
“I choose not, for respect is not reflected in your manner or actions.”
“So be it. I have time enough to change your mind and change it you will.”
“Unless you plan to lobotomize me, my mind is set and will not change so far as you are concerned.”
“Stubborn and willful, prideful too. You are much like your father only lacking his wisdom.”
“I am my father’s daughter and you would do well to remember it.”
“Your threat is empty. Your father stands with me not with you and you would do well to remember that.”
“Were my father present I would expose you as the fraud you are.”
“You would expose yourself as well then? I think not. You are as trapped in this charade as I and do not forget it is of your own making.”
“You have taken advantage.”
“Yes, that is why men are men and women are women.”
“I tire of your company, let us get this over with.”
“If you insist. Strip.” He ordered.
I stared disbelievingly at him. He could not possibly expect I would removed my clothing in his company.
“Are you hard of hearing? I said strip!” He moved closer to me as he spoke.
“No.” I replied.
“Remove your clothes or I will rip them from your body.” He hissed.
I stared refusal into his eyes.
His hand reached out for me. I shrank back expecting to be slapped. Instead he grabbed hold of my hair and yanked me to feet. I felt helpless in his grasp. I wanted to run for the door but knew he would never allow me to reach it. His free hand began to fumble at my collar and the realization he would do what he said sank in.
“Wait!” I cried. “I’ll do it.”
His grip turned my head forcibly to meet his gaze. I surrendered myself to him and he nodded acceptance. His hand released me.
“Strip.” He ordered for the last time.
I did so with tears welling in my eyes. Every button undone brought them closer to falling but I somehow kept them contained. As I bared my flesh I could feel his hungry gaze sweeping over me, taking in every curve, every fold of soft secret flesh. I could not bare to meet his eyes.
Naked I stood with my clothing piled at my feet. I looked down at my bare feet in hopes of escaping the humiliation of acknowledging his presence but instead the view of my naked bosom, legs and toes only accentuated the shame of standing before him. My nipples hardened in humiliation and my face flushed hot with shame.
“So you can do as your told.” He taunted.
“Yes.” I whispered.
“Look at me.” He commanded.
I struggled to meet his gaze and in the end settled for staring at his nose. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes.
“You will address me with respect. Understood?”
“Yes.” I replied.
“Yes, what?” he asked.
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine.
“Yes, sir.” I said.
“Better. Fold your things neatly in a stack.” He directed.
“Yes, sir.” I replied.
The “sir” stuck in my throat and burned like fire. I focused on the task at hand promising myself again I would have the last laugh at his expense. Small comfort in the moment but it was enough to carry me forward. I swallowed my tears and played my submissive part. I folded my clothing slowly, meticulously. Remington waited patiently, enjoying his view.
My task complete I stood facing him yet again. My hands crossed in front of me in a futile attempt to provide a small amount of modesty. Remington would have none of it though.
“Hands at your sides. Modesty is for ladies not naughty little girls who need their bare bottoms smacked.”
I surrendered what little modesty I had and dropped my arms to my sides. I felt colder despite the burning humiliation reddening my skin. Remington enjoyed a self-satisfied moment of smugness and then knelt to lift my folded pile of clothing in his hands.
I longed for him to stop with the theatrics and get to the spanking. No doubt I would wish I had not rushed into the moment later but the humiliation of baring myself to him was eating away at my resolve to accept the inevitable.
He walked to the door and opened it. I gasped in surprise. My lip began to quiver as I guessed his next instruction.
‘Lead me to your room.” He said gesturing me out into the hallway like the gentleman he is not.
I could not completely contain the tremors in my legs as I walked. In the hallway I squeezed my eyes shut fighting back the threatening tears. I walked slowly but purposefully toward the dining hall. Were there another way around I would have taken it in a second but there was not and Remington knew it all too well.
There were gasps as I first entered the dining hall. The tables were full with the girls enjoying breakfast. A couple more steps into the room and the gasps became giggles. I reminded myself to keep my arms at my sides despite the overwhelming temptation to attempt to shield myself from their gazes. My face burned hotter than even moments ago when I thought I could bare no more embarrassment.
I exited the room with tears on my cheeks. The giggles of my peers stung worse than any birch ever could. I climbed the stairs with Remington directly behind me. I prayed for the stairs to collapse under my feet but God was too amused by my shame just like Remington.
I opened the door into my shared room and stepped inside. It took every ounce of self-control not to slam the door closed in Remington’s face. He offered my stack of clothing to me.
“Put them away properly now. You will not need them again today.” He said.
More tears spilled from my eyes, but I did as I was told with a mumbled, “Yes, sir.”
“Come now, I think there is still enough time for you to have a small breakfast.” He said.
“Yes, sir.” I replied and followed him back down the stairs to my giggling peers in the dining hall.
I wanted to question just what exactly my punishment would be but I feared I all ready knew.
I ate a small bowl of cereal under his watchful eyes. I was far from hungry but his body language made it clear not eating was not an option he would allow. When I finished most of the other girls had already left the table and were on their way out the door for morning classes. I briefly entertained the thought I might miss mine for the day.
“We should set off to Primrose Hall now. You have class in a half hour.” He said.
“You cannot expect me to attend like this?” I asked in disbelief despite all ready knowing the answer.
“I do not, but your father does. You have embarrassed him and it is fitting your punishment shall embarrass you.” He replied.
As we stepped out into the street I recalled the kindness of Jonathon who had spared me this humiliation once before. Remington is no Jonathon and there was no one else to save me this time. My shame grew yet again beyond all limits.
The ground was hot underneath my feet and I found myself walking hurriedly on tiptoes. Remington was clearly captivated by the bounce in my bosom as were many of the males we passed on the street. Eternity in hell passed and we climbed the steps of Primrose Hall.
We entered Mr. Bard’s classroom. He looked surprised at my state but said nothing as Remington signaled him for a word. A few moments later and I was seated on the dunce stool, hat on my head facing the class.
Halfway through the class, Mr. Bard paused to introduce Remington. Remington stepped forward from his place standing at the back of the classroom. He removed the dunce cap from my head.
“Stand up.” He ordered while removing a leather strap from his jacket.
I stared at the strap, eyes wide open.
“Touch your toes and count these.” He ordered.
“Yes, sir.” I replied and complied.
It was almost a relief to at last be awaiting the pain of punishment. I have always known that the humiliation is a heavier weight than the physical punishment on my flesh but until that moment I had never realized how the physical helped carry me through the emotional pain of embarrassment and shame.
He slapped the strap down with a snap against my bulging buttocks. I winced at the surprising sting.
“One.” I said.
“One, what?”
“One, sir.” I said with a small sigh.
“Right we will start over now.” He said and swung the strap again.
I cried out unprepared for the harsher stroke biting my flesh.
“One, sir.”
The next fell without hesitation. I cried out again at the stinging bite.
“Two, sir.”
Snap!
“Three, sir.”
Snap!
“OW!” I screamed as it bit into my thigh.
My classmates laughed at my pain.
“Four, sir.” I finally managed.
Snap!
“OW! OW!” I screamed as he struck the very same tender flesh of my thigh.
“Five, sir.”
Snap!
I began to sob as the burn in my buttocks became overwhelming. All I could think about was massaging my tender flesh to ease the pain away.
“Six, sir.”
Snap!
I cried even harder. My butt felt like a dozen bees had graced it with their stingers.
“OW! Please, no more.” I said between sobs.
There was no reply.
“Seven, sir.” I counted.
Snap!
“OWWWWIE!” I screamed.
The tip of the leather wrapped around my thigh striking the tender flesh between my legs. I jumped upright, grabbing at the spot and bouncing up and down in a circle.
The classroom roared with laughter. I cared not.
“Stop this pathetic display at once!” Remington barked.
Somewhere deep inside I found the strength to obey.
“Eight sir.” I whined.
He nodded approval and despite my hatred of him I was grateful for it.
“Sit back down on the stool.” He ordered.
I hesitantly did as instructed. The hardwood of the stool was additional torture to my flaming cheeks. I continued to cry without shame. He placed the cap back on my head and returned to his standing place at the back of the room. Mr. Bard finished his lesson.
When the entire class had exited, Remington came forward again and allowed me to stand once more. He thanked Mr. Bard for his assistance and escorted me out.
Attending Dr. Phallic’s class was much the same routine. I sat on the dunce stool facing the class until mid-way through. Only Remington borrowed Dr. Phallic’s paddle instead of using his strap.
I touched my toes, trembling before the class. The first swat of the paddle re-ignited the slowly dimming fire in my behind.
“One, sir.” I counted obediently.
Crack!
“Two, sir.”
Crack!
“OW!” I cried.
I nearly grabbed my butt in response to the new burning across both my cheeks.
“Three, sir.”
Crack!
I cried harder, but managed to keep in position.
“Four, sir.”
Crack!
I began to sob again.
“Five, sir.”
Crack!
“Please no more!” I screamed.
The class laughed at my pleading but Remington remained silent.
“Six, sir.”
Crack!
Tears dripped down to my toes.
“Seven, sir.”
Crack!
I nearly leapt in the air again at the low swat on my thighs. The memory of my peers hysterical laughter kept me down.
“Eight, sir.”
It was over then. I sat back on the stool unable to comfort my tortured buttocks. I cried while facing my classmates. They smirked gleefully as though they knew I deserved every swat.
Tears still adorned my cheeks as we exited Primrose Hall for the day. Remington paused on the way down the steps, grabbing my arm so I was forced to turn and face him.
“Are you ashamed?” He asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He smiled and continued walking then.
We walked in silence until we reached the steps of Carrington Manor. Remington slowed me to a stop and forced me again to face him.
“You know of course, your punishment is not over.” He said.
I had surmised as much but hoped I was wrong. I nodded my head not trusting my tongue to speak without landing me in more trouble.
We continued up the steps and went inside. I wondered what more could possibly be in store for me. I wondered if my words had really been so bad as to deserve all of this.
Mrs. Carrington’s dunce stool awaited me in the main hall along with the hat. I took my seat of shame without comment.
“She is to remain there until bedtime.” He said to Mrs. Carrington.
She nodded.
“No dinner for her and she is to return to this very spot first thing in the morning, still nude. I will retrieve her in time to escort her to class tomorrow.” He continued.
“I will see that she follows your instructions.” Mrs. Carrington replied.
