The Island - The Flogmaster's Story Library

The Island | 17“Now fetch me a nice cane, dear. Actually, let’s make itthat same one you were beaten with last night. That soundedpositively dreadful.”With a quick pleading look the girl rose and departed, herface ashen and her bosom panting as she trotted away on herdisagreeable errand.“You... you’re really going to beat her? After what she’salready gotten?”“Oh come now, Kate! She’s barely been scratched. Besides,that was yesterday, and she needs a good thrashing today.”“But—” Katherine fell silent, unable to fathom such aconcept. She shivered. She couldn’t help but put herself inGladys’ place, bent over and waiting for the cane. How wouldit feel? How much did those weals burn? It was awful, and yetKatherine was entranced. She couldn’t explain it—she didn’tunderstand it yet—but she was drawn to the spectacle ofbeating, the horror of the pain arousing her intense interest.Gladys was back, a long tan rod in her hands. She curtseyedas she handed the instrument to Pamela, who flexed it menacinglyand swished it vigorously through the air. Katherinewatched in cringing horror and drooling fascination.“Assume position one,” snapped Pamela. The maidpromptly bent over and tucked her fingertips under her toes,her knees perfectly straight. The bottom, still covered by theflimsy flap of black skirt, jutted out poignantly. “Would youdo the honors, Kate?”It took Katherine a few seconds to realize what wasdemanded of her. Trembling as though she was the one to bebeaten, she walked over to the bent maid. Carefully she liftedthe skirt up, revealing the lovely bottom with the grim crisscrossof vivid pain etched across its bare flesh.