Rectory of Correction by Amanita Virosa Page A

brightly.
    The girls’ ragged response was particularly unenthusiastic.
    â€˜Good, good,’ he said mildly. ‘Very well, go in, my dears. Do go in!’
    First he ordered the girls to move the desks back. Amelia worked with Gretchen, who was visibly trembling now, lifting the desks and putting them back against the wall. Next he unlocked the big stationery cupboard at the back of the hall and passed out things which, to Amelia’s astonished gaze, looked like shallow wooden boxes or drawers.
    These trays were about three-foot in length by two in width and fashioned from varnished beech. A strap, which Amelia did not like the look of, was affixed near the middle of the box, across its width. The Reverend Dawes had them set these out in a little row. Gretchen was first, then Charlotte and Amelia. Finally Arabella’s box brought up the rear.
    â€˜All right, girls, remove your skirts and blouses, please.’
    Amelia began unbuttoning her blouse even before she had time to be outraged. Once she would have protested, even balked. Now she just obeyed, wondering as she did so at the change in her attitude.
    Gretchen also did as she was bid, with alacrity that bordered on the craven. Bella blushed a little, then gave a shrug and began to unbutton her blouse. Only Charlotte seemed to find the order too much to obey.
    â€˜I’m sorry, Reverend Dawes,’ she said, the tremulous note in her voice undermining her determined expression, ‘it simply is not decent.’ She stuck her little chin out firmly, and struck a pose that was evidently meant to display firm resolve. Unfortunately, she could not prevent herself from blushing red, nor her chin from trembling, and these factors combined to rather spoil the effect. ‘I am quite sure that my grandmama would not permit me to...’ Charlotte’s cheeks went a deeper shade of red, ‘...to expose myself to you in this way.’
    Shut up, shut up, you stupid little fool! Not very long ago it might have been Amelia who spoke Charlotte’s words; now she stared at the other girl and willed her to be quiet and not make more trouble for them all. The Reverend Dawes looked at Charlotte without concern.
    â€˜Of course, my dear,’ he said quietly, ‘if that is the way you feel, I could not allow any question of impropriety. I tell you what, if you would bear with me whilst I get these others ready, why don’t we go and telephone your grandmother, and see what she says?’
    Charlotte looked nonplussed at this proposition, delivered in the most reasonable and amiable of tones. She licked her lips uncertainly, eyes darting about as if looking for a trap, then hesitantly gave a nod of her head.
    â€˜Good,’ the Reverend said, ‘that’s settled. Come along, you three, fold up your skirts and blouses neatly and put them on the desks.’
    Amelia could not help but be aware of the sight she presented, for Arabella and Gretchen were identically clad. The wickedly tight corsets left their breasts entirely bare, and the bizarre whipping drawers were designed to leave no part of their charms to the imagination. Indeed, as Gretchen walked awkwardly over to the desks, Amelia could clearly make out the dark pink lines that striped her bottom though the thin tight cotton of her drawers.
    â€˜They will not be needing their hands for a while, Faith,’ the Reverend Dawes said with a meaningful wink. The maid got straight to work. First a supple belt, in a figure of eight shape, was slipped over Amelia’s shoulders. The strap went around the front of her shoulders, crossing in the middle of her back, where it was tightened up. Amelia was still wondering about this as leather cuffs were buckled firmly on to her wrists. Then she wondered no more. Faith hauled up her right and then her left wrist, clipping the cuffs to the middle of the shoulder belt. It was mildly uncomfortable, like having her arms pinioned in the wrestling