_The Convent School_
My father’s extreme severity made me rather glad when in about a
week’s time Miss Birch began to make preparations for my departure to
Belgium, and in less than three weeks I found myself installed as a
pupil in the seminary of the Ursuline nuns at Brussels. The Lady
Superior struck me from the very first as being a frightfully severe
woman; the morning after my arrival she sent for me to hear her read
my father’s instructions, and remarked that he had given her _carte
blanche_ as to punishment, and that in their school discipline was
strictly enforced. “Remember, young lady,” said she, in dismissing me
from her presence, “we never overlook a fault, and that my word is law
here.”
My face flushed with indignation, and tears filled my eyes as I left
the apartment, fully assured in my own mind that I must soon
experience a taste of their discipline, nor had I long to wait, for
two days after, having confidentially expressed my disgust to another
pupil, with respect to the coarse fare set before us at meals, I soon
found I had been talking to a tell-tale spy, who carried everything to
the Superior.
An elderly nun quietly told me she had been sent to conduct me to the
private room of the Lady Superior. My time was come, and I followed my
chaperone with trembling anxiety.
Our Superior was a stern looking woman of about forty-five, with dark
piercing eyes and Roman nose, thin compressed lips considerably adding
to the severity of her expression.
“Mdlle. Lucille,” said the superior, “I thought the caution I gave you
on your arrival, would at least have saved you from trouble for some
time, and spared me the pain of inflicting personal correction on you
so soon after your entry into our seminary, but I am afraid your papa
must have had serious cause for wishing me to be severe with you; now
what have you been saying to your fellow pupil the Mdlle. Olive; did
you remark, ‘that the food was not fit for a dog, much less
schoolgirls’?”
I looked down in confusion, “Ah, I see,” she continued, “you cannot
deny it; well Lucille, I hope soon to convince you that our bill of
fare is both wholesome and proper for the pupils, I shall give you one
dozen cuts with the rod, and then let you off if you promise not to
offend in the same way again.”
The nun who was called Serena, now placed a long stool in the middle
of the apartment, and made me lie on it full length face downwards,
then I felt her cold busy hands as they turned up my clothes, and
opened my drawers behind, till my bottom was left naked to the attack
of the Lady Superior.
“Do you, Mdlle. Lucille,” she asked sternly, “consider that our fare
of bread and porridge three times a day, and meat or soup twice a
week, added for dinner is only fit for a dog? Ah! Ha!” she went on,
cutting me slowly and severely at every few words, “This will give you
a better appetite; how do you like birch sauce, Miss Dainty Mouth?”
I screamed with the pain, and plunged about so that Sister Serena had
to hold me down with all her weight upon my shoulders. “Forgive me,
oh, forgive me this time, I won’t speak to Olive again!” I gasped out
as the heavy woman almost stopped my breath, but at last it was over,
and after kissing the rod and making me look at the blood-stained
weals on my bottom, they sent me away with a caution how I spoke about
that or anything else I might see done in the convent.
I longed to have my revenge on the deceitful Olive, but knew not where
to turn for a confidant, they all perhaps would be equally
treacherous. I stuck to my lessons and avoided punishment as much as
possible, being assured that the longer I brooded on my revenge the
more complete it would be in the end, at the same time I thoroughly
studied every part of the building to which I was allowed access, in
the hope I might some day find it very useful if I wanted to effect my
escape.
The nuns I believe slept in dormitories, where there were a dozen or
more together, but every pupil had a very small room to herself, mine
was in a long corridor, and Olive’s three or four doors from mine,
there were neither locks or bolts to any door, as the Lady Superior
and elder sisters were supposed to take frequent peeps at us in our
sleep; I had at last matured my plan, and having everything in
readiness, one dark night when there was not even a glimpse of
moonlight, I patiently watched till some of the principals had paid
the accustomed visit, and heard the cracked voice of an old nun say,
“fast asleep,” as I feigned to be in a deep slumber.
Soon their footsteps died away in the corridor, and after waiting some
time, till I felt sure every pupil must be again asleep, if the going
round should have awakened them, I crept out of bed, and providing
myself with some pins and a strong piece of cord, was soon at the
bedside of the treacherous girl I wanted to serve out; my first act
was to quietly pass my cord around her, outside the small bed, so that
I could suddenly draw it tight and secure her a helpless victim in my
power then suddenly stuffing the bedclothes into her mouth before she
could scream out, ordered her in a rough whisper to keep quiet or I
would kill her; it was too dark to see her terrified face, but she
shuddered all over, and seemed as if her very blood was chilled, so
cold did she seem to my touch.
Taking advantage of her fright, hands and feet were instantly tied so
that she was spread out in a helpless fashion; I made her own
handkerchief, which I happened to get hold of, into a gag, and at the
same time could feel the drops of cold sweat upon her temples. Now I
turned up the bedclothes or pushed them off, as I was tying the cord,
till she was quite naked from the bosom downwards.
My hands roved over the soft, firm, naked flesh of her belly, then to
the mount of love, which I found just beginning to be fledged with
silky down. My fingers sought the crack below, and I could not help
amusing myself by frigging her with all my might, the two first
fingers of my right hand ruthlessly pushing into her cunny, and I knew
caused her intense pain; from the slight groans which the gag could
not entirely suppress.
What pleasure it was to me to torture her by my roughness, and outrage
her every sense of modesty, although I was too ignorant at the time to
know that my fingers were actually taking the poor girl’s virginity; a
kind of fury possessed me, and I actually bit the lips of her cunny,
and munched off as much of the silky down as I could bite away; the
pain must have been intense, and her writhing, shuddering agony was so
much bliss to me.
At last to finish her off I got a piece of the cord, and passing it
right along her crack, tied it round her thighs and waist as tightly
and painfully as possible, and then for ornament stuck a lot of pins
in the plumb cheeks of her bottom and left them there.
My revenge was complete, so wiping my fingers on the bedclothes, for
fear of any blood-stains, &c., I left my victim just as she was, to be
tormented by her horrible pains and fears till some one might find it
out, and release her in the morning.
This outrage was never discovered, my victim was found insensible next
morning, and remained in a delirious state for three or four weeks
before she recovered consciousness, and then the agony and terror she
had endured on that awful night had so turned her brain that she
believed it was the devil who had so grossly ill-used her, but I heard
that one of the father confessors was strongly suspected of having
committed the atrocity.
The Superior, with whom Olive had been a favourite, now vented her
spite in every direction amongst the young lady pupils of the
seminary, and I for one soon fell under her displeasure, and was
ordered to be tied up to their whipping post; it was only for slightly
oversleeping myself, and not dressing quickly when the bell rang for
us to get up at 6 A.M.
I was suspended by my wrists being tied high up the post as I stood
upon a small footstool, then it was suddenly kicked away, the jerk of
the sudden strain on my wrists almost making the straps cut into the
flesh. My feet were dangling some inches from the ground, “Oh! Oh!
Ah—r—r—r—re!” I screamed, “How cruel! Oh! Papa! Papa! If you only knew
how they are treating me in this awful place!”
Lady Superior (who seemed delighted at the sight of my pain),—“Hold
your foolish noise, Mdlle. Lucille, wait till you have something to
scream about, girl.” Then the old Serena, who it seemed was always in
attendance at punishment time, pinned up my skirts and opened my
drawers behind, and the Superior went on, “This rod shall make all the
sluggards turn out quicker in the morning; what do you think,
Mademoiselle, of making us all wait prayers for ten minutes? will you
wake—wake—wake up sharper in future?”
She gave me three smarting cuts at each word, and my suspended
position added so much to the intensity of my pain, that I screamed,
kicked, and plunged about as I swung by my wrists from the post.
“Sister Serena,” exclaimed the Superior, “keep the girl steady or I
cannot plant my cuts as effectually as I ought to do upon her naughty
impudent bottom, she shan’t sleep for a week if I can only make it
sore enough!” Serena now held me to the post with one hand, to prevent
my swaying about, whilst the rod rained a succession of withering,
scorching cuts on my buttocks, and just underneath the parting of the
cheeks of my bottom. My screams were heartrending, but they only
seemed to enjoy it more and the Superior never ended her objurgations
till the rod was worn out.
Things now went on till I was nearly fourteen, we never had a holiday,
and only short letters came to me from home, in which my father
constantly expressed his hopes of my improvement, and seemed quite
oblivious to all I had written from time to time about my severe
treatment, and begging him to remove me to some other school.
I afterwards found out that my home letters were regularly suppressed,
and others more suitable were written and sent to papa, in my name;
what wretch that Superior now appears in my eyes, she not only
delighted in whipping us nearly to death, but forget letters to our
parents so as to keep her pupils, and make everything appear _couleur
de rose_.
Perhaps, dear Rosa, you have heard that I managed to escape from that
dreadful convent, but previous to that they nearly killed me. I was
getting quite a big girl, my pussey already sported its silken down on
the Mons Veneris, which we all consider such an ornament to our secret
charms.
The Superior had lately taken much notice of me, and introduced me to
a clique of her favourites, three or four pretty girls about my own
age, who were often indulged with little treats in her private room;
there, we girls were encouraged and instructed in all kinds of
lascivious ideas; we looked at each other’s cunnies, tickled and
kissed each other in every possible way, the Superior encouraging us,
and suggesting a variety of attitudes for us to try. She had a huge
godemiche, about nine inches long, and very thick, which she would fit
upon one of the girls, and then submit herself to be fucked as hard as
possible, whilst the other girls had to turn up the girl’s skirts, and
smack her bottom hard and fast, with the palms of their hands, to make
the young gentleman (as the Superior called her partner) work fast and
vigorously.
Then she would have us all strip naked, whilst we had in turn to kiss
and suck her cunt, when it was all slimy with her spendings.
I did not mind the slapping, or allowing any one to kiss and
tongue-fuck my cunny, but the Superior’s was so hairy, and had such
meaty looking lips, and a huge clitoris, (which I now know is induced
by long-continued self-abuse), and it smelt so fishy, that I
absolutely declined the honour of gamahuching her, and nothing could
induce me to do so.
This so enraged her that she flew at me like a tigress. I was knocked
down, and beaten with a thick stick, till my flesh was bruised all
over, and then picked up, almost fainting, and hurried off to my own
little room.
Perhaps nothing further would have happened, but in my innocence, I
supposed my letters were sent home just as I sealed them up, so I
wrote to Miss Birch a full account of what I had been seduced into,
and the dreadful beating I had received, for not liking the cunt of
the Lady Superior.
The very next day after I thought the letter was gone, the old nun,
Serena, fetched me into a dull gloomy room, which I had never been in
before, but at once rightly judged to be a punishment chamber, when I
saw a high whipping post, made of a square beam, set upright in the
floor, with two rings near the top on each side, by which to tie up
the victim; a birch rod was hanging on the wall, and two scourges with
long things lay upon a seat at one end, but I had no time for further
observation, as the Superior seemed to follow us into the room almost
immediately.
“Now, Mdlle. Lucille,” she exclaimed, grinding her teeth in rage, “you
shall rue the insult you put upon me the other day, before my special
favourites, of which I had minded to make you one, so that when you
left the seminary you might look back with pleasure to the loving
amusements I had first introduced you to; perhaps I should have
overlooked it all, but see I have your letter. Ha! Ha!! you little
fool to think that would ever go out of the convent!”
Sister Serena had by this time put me on a stool, and was fastening my
wrists one on each side of the post, and presently the stool was
removed, and I found myself just touching the floor with the tips of
my toes.
“What a beautiful position, how she will twist about and scream when
she feels the scourge, make haste to bare her bottom, as I am burning
to pay her out. Ha! Ha!! Mdlle. Lucille, I fancy you wouldn’t mind
kissing my cunt now if I promised to let you off,” said the Superior
spitefully.
My courage and natural obstinacy came to my assistance at the moment,
I was so indignant, and the idea was so repulsive to me that I
resolved rather to die than do that for her; I was frightened and yet
flushed with shame and indignation at my treatment, besides something
seemed to advise me to irritate my tormentor to do her worst, and get
it over quickly.
“No! No!! No, never!!! you may kill me, and then I should be out of my
misery!” I exclaimed.
She scowled with ferocity, but said with all the calmness she could
command, “make haste, Serena, up with her clothes, and open the
drawers well, and keep her as steady as possible.” Then taking up the
instrument of punishment I could see it consisted of five or six long
thongs of whipcord, plaited and knotted at the ends, fixed on a very
elastic handle.
It was poised in her hand for a moment, and then brought down with
stinging force on my exposed buttocks, then again, and again, and
again, in quick succession; each cut seemed to sear the flesh as if
done by a red hot iron, my piercing screams filled the whole place,
and the Superior, her eyes sparkling with ferocious joy, jeered me
about how I liked the scourge. “How lovely you look, Mdlle. Lucille,
as you plunge and scream, and I know the intense agony of every cut;
would you rather die now, my little dear? Well, I’ve a good mind to
kill you, outright, only I want to keep you as long as that _dear,
kind papa_ of yours is willing to pay! How he must have loved his
Lucille, to place her with me; I’m so kind, so very kind, you know,
my dear girl! What do you think of my kindness, you little love?”
Her cuts were awful, and I swayed and plunged so that it was
impossible for Serena to keep my body steady, so she seized the other
scourge, and tried her best to second the Superior in her efforts to
cut me up more and more.
At last they fairly panted for breath, as I was left dangling, sobbing
and moaning, with my clothes torn, my drawers in shreds, and streaming
with blood all down my thighs and legs.
Fearing I might faint, they poured a little strong cordial down my
parched throat, sponged my face with cold water, and put some strong
snuff up my nose, which almost drove me into convulsions, so very
violent was the fit of sneezing produced.
They seemed carried away with delight at the sight of my sufferings,
and sprinkled a quantity of the snuff over the cuts on my bottom,
just to dry up the blood, as they said with a laugh. Next all my
clothes were cut or torn off, till I had nothing on but slippers,
stockings, and the remains of my drawers.
“Now we’ll finish off the obstinate, impudent little beast, I wish I
dare kill her,” said the Superior, grinding her teeth, “only I should
lose too much, she is worth more alive than dead.”
A couple of lady’s riding whips were now produced, and the two women
attacked me afresh; I was cut all over my body, each cut seemed as if
done with a red hot knife, the blood flowed down my back in streams,
and yet their rage seemed to increase at the sight of my sufferings.
My screams were awful, but only so much music to their ears. They
jeered and derided my cries for “God to have mercy on me, &c.,” said
“my time was come to die, but they would make me last as long as
possible, and draw out my agony to the very last gasp.”
This must all have passed in a very short time, but was an age of
intense suffering to me, and the finale was such a display of ferocity
that I sank under it, and thus robbed them of the pleasure of
prolonging my torture. The Superior seized me by the hair, and drawing
my head back, lashed her whip across my face and bosom, drawing more
blood at every cut, whilst old Serena, not to be outdone, took my
right leg under her arm, cut me dreadfully inside my thighs, along the
crack of my pussey, and made the tip of her whip reach the Mons
Veneris.
This was the last I could recollect, but when I came to myself I was
in my own bed, wrapped up in cloths soaked in water. No bones were
broken, and my health soon recovered sufficiently to enable me to
effect my escape, and avoid their further malice.
[Decoration]