Rectory of Correction by Amanita Virosa Page B

move known as a back-hammer. A sick feeling in her stomach told Amelia the discomfort would get rapidly worse.
    As she stood helplessly in this bondage, the Reverend Dawes stepped in front of her. He smiled, watching her reaction. Amelia dropped her gaze. She saw his hand come up. He stroked her breast gently, finger circling her nipple until it stood out like a little strawberry.
    â€˜I hope you do not feel there is anything indecent about detention?’ he said softly.
    Amelia bit back a moan. She wanted to step back, but did not dare; she felt horribly vulnerable with her arms bound behind her. Closing her eyes she whimpered as he took her nipple between thumb and forefinger. Of course it was indecent! It was an utter outrage! She wanted to voice her objections, but did not.
    Strange things were now happening in her crotch: a tingling that could drive a girl quite out of her mind. Part of her wanted to tell him to unhand her, another part to beg him to grant her some relief before she went insane. Fortunately for Amelia, residual pride and her sense of self-preservation somehow prevailed a moment longer.
    â€˜N-no, sir,’ she managed to whimper.
    The Reverend raised her head with his hand and planted a kiss on her perspiring cheek. ‘Good girl,’ he said with a wicked smile. ‘Right, shall we get on with the game?’
    Gretchen and Arabella had been trussed up as tight as Amelia now, and the three girls each gave him an uncertain nod of assent.
    â€˜Very well, Faith, the peas if you please.’
    Amelia could not imagine what he wanted with peas, until Faith took the container from the tray. She walked over to the first of the three boxes and opened the tin.
    The hard sound of dried peas bouncing on wood struck fear into Amelia’s soul, as profound as any crack of whip on bottom or back might have engendered. A couple of dozen peas covered the bottom of the box. The Reverend took hold of Gretchen’s elbow.
    â€˜Now, my dear, would you care to step this way.’
    Gretchen gave a sob as she was helped down until she knelt in the box.
    â€˜Oooh,’ she said. ‘Ach, please sir, how long must I...?’
    â€˜Be silent, or I shall have you gagged, girl,’ the Reverend said sharply in response.
    Faith buckled the strap that joined the sides of the tray closed over Gretchen’s calves. She did not fasten it particularly tightly, but Amelia realised with mounting terror that with her arms pinioned, it would now be next to impossible for Gretchen to get out of the box unaided.
    The rattle of dried peas in the next box cut short such thoughts. Amelia’s mouth went dry as the Reverend Dawes took hold of her upper arm. Gently he steered her over to the box. There was little she could do about her situation so, looking around wildly, she let him guide her down on to her knees.
    Right away Amelia found herself in the most acute discomfort. Several of the stone-hard peas were lodged beneath her knees. Her pinioned arms hurt almost as much, but Amelia had no doubt that the pain in her knees would soon eclipse this. It was going to be exactly what the Reverend had promised them. No less than a little trip to purgatory.
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    â€˜I do apologise for bothering you with this matter, Lady Peaslake, but I am afraid Charlotte has voiced certain objections to her treatment. No, no, my policy is to meet any reasonable objections. If she does not wish to uncover in front a man, I quite understand... What? Yes, she is here...’
    The Reverend Dawes handed Charlotte the telephone. Nervously she spoke into the handset.
    â€˜Grandmama, please can I come home? I promise I will stop behaving in such a... But, Grandmama...’
    A minute or so later the dainty hand that returned the telephone to the Reverend was trembling slightly. Charlotte felt a surge of anger at her grandmother’s treatment of her, but it was not so hot that it could dispel a mounting sense of terror.
    â€˜Yes,