Rectory of Correction
her, ready to start whipping her again. Instead she gasped lungfuls of air and ran on as fast as ever she could.
    The sound of crop on bottom and a cry of pain in Kirsty’s voice behind told her the Reverend’s whip had found another target. Saying a prayer of thanks, she followed the girls ahead back on to the road, and ran down the hill to the rectory with all the concentrated haste of a gazelle pursued by a particularly lean and hungry wolf.
    Â 
    â€˜Oh, God, I will never survive six months of this!’ Charlotte gasped as the hot water hissed out of the showerheads on to the pink bodies of eight completely naked girls.
    Amelia, whose bottom still throbbed like the very devil, knew what Charlotte meant. All the same, the presence of so much fetching female flesh around her made her feel, at least for the moment, slightly more sanguine about her awful fate.
    â€˜Ach, it’s no’ so bad,’ Kirsty said with her usual cheeky grin. ‘Hey, Amelia, want me to soap your back?’
    Amelia gave Kirsty a disdainful nod and turned to let her do so. She found herself facing Gretchen, who looked very sorry for herself. Gretchen turned, wincing as the hot water hit her body, and Amelia’s mouth went dry as she stared at the mass of livid welts on the pale mounds of her bottom.
    â€˜You really caught it,’ she said, something in her voice sounding almost like sympathy.
    Gretchen turned back and gave her a shy smile. ‘I deserved it, I suppose,’ she said sadly. ‘I am very lazy and very slow.’
    â€˜Well, he did not have to thrash us as brutally as that,’ Charlotte put in, feeling her own well-striped bottom gingerly.
    Turning, Amelia was in time to catch the maids, Faith and Rose, exchange a furtive glance.
    â€˜The Reverend,’ Faith said anxiously as she soaped Rose, ‘does not like to have his actions questioned.’
    Kirsty handed Amelia the bar of soap with a sardonic smile. Amelia began to soap the girl’s flawless back. Kirsty’s skin was as smooth as wet satin. Amelia tried to ignore the insistent tingling between her legs as she lathered away. ‘And who exactly tells him what is said?’ she asked.
    Faith flushed and exchanged a look with Rose again.
    â€˜That’s clear enough,’ Bella put in, having noticed the glance as well. ‘Remember girls, watch what you say around the Reverend’s maids.’
    â€˜No, you don’t understand.’ Faith looked appealingly at the other girls. ‘He has ways of finding things out. If he asks... well, I just have to tell the truth.’
    â€˜I can’t imagine lying to him, if that is what you mean,’ little Linnet said softly as she soaped Gretchen’s back.
    The two made a delightful tableau, Amelia thought as she looked over Kirsty’s shoulder at them. Delicate, slender, Linnet with her tight little bottom and exquisite, apple-sized breasts next to big Gretchen, whose breasts were like honeydew melons in comparison.
    Kirsty winced as Amelia, a little distracted by this vista, reached her bottom. She stood back and looked down. Six lurid weals still stood out on the girl’s jutting cheeks. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled.
    â€˜Och, you’re all right. I’ve had a hell of a lot worse than these wee cleg bites.’
    The water ceased and there was a mass sigh of disappointment. She was not the only one who had enjoyed the communal shower, Amelia thought with a smile. As she towelled herself dry she thought about what Faith had said. She imagined herself being interrogated by the Reverend Dawes, his cold eyes holding her in their hypnotic stare. She realised that, even if she could hold her tongue, few of the others would withstand him.
    She resolved to be particularly careful about what she said.
    A groan from several female mouths brought her out of her reverie. She turned to find that Faith was pointing to a pile of corsets and the dreadful

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