I spent a day or two progressively working Beatrice's mind around my proposal.
She had to become resistant to the pain that her mother might inflict upon her. Once she had acquired that resistance she would be able to control how she reacted, and so her sisters wouldn't have the satisfaction of her humiliation as they mocked her tears. That way she could endure the punishments. That way she was sort of winning. Sort of.
That was the theory anyway. At least that was the theory I was suggesting to Beatrice.
In reality it was a fabrication. A wicked ruse to allow me to torture her. With her willing approval.
God, the duplicity of it all made me wet. Little Alice understood immediately. Poor, trusting Beatrice however, didn't. She was such a delight.
Once Bee had fully accepted the principle of what I was proposing, I told her to find another cane as similar to her mother's as possible and to bring it to school in her hockey bag.
The next day when we convened in the library, Beatrice very ostentatiously heaved her hockey bag along with her and my heart beat with eager anticipation.
I was waiting for her at the usual table but I wasn't alone. To her obvious consternation also waiting were my three favourite little girls - Alice (of course) and also Gemma and Carol. They were all grinning. Silently mocking her.
She made as if to sit but I stopped her. "No need to sit Bee. Let's go to the old shower block. Bring your bag."
The little girls enthusiastically jumped to their feet, grinning happily. They knew what we were going to do. We had discussed it at length in Beatrice's absence. They had all expressed their particular fancies - what they would like to do to this pathetic creature.
There is a lot of truth in the belief that little girls can be cruel.
Little girls can be very, very cruel.
It took us just a few minutes to get to the deserted, derelict building.
Once more I took immediate control.
"Show us your cane then Bee. Get it out".
She looked tearful and scared as she fumbled with the zipper on her hockey bag. With obvious reluctance she drew out the cane.
The younger girls' eyes widened with delight. It was like they were looking at a golden sword rather than a garden cane.
"Here Bee. Give it to me".
She meekly handed me the cane.
It felt light in my hand. Just a straight piece of cane. Thin but firm. It felt good.
I took a few practise strokes in the air. I tried different things. Short staccato hits and long, full arm swings. All aimed at some invisible point. Each one made different sounds; with different intensities. The menacing "whoosh" however was distinct each time. From the corner of my eye I could see Bee flinch with each stroke. I turned to her with a satisfied smile.
"Get undressed then Bee. Let's do it properly".
"Undressed?" she looked horrified.
"Of course" I said "it's got to be as much like the real thing as possible. Gemma and Carol will pretend to be your sisters and Alice and I will take turns being your mum. Come on. Get undressed. Take your clothes off. It's not like we haven't seen you before".
Beatrice looked from one to the other of us.
The younger girls couldn't hide their malicious lust; their broad grins seemed more like leers.
Beatrice turned to me with a pleading look. I managed to soften my expression and smiled sympathetically. "I know it's going to hurt Bee; but you've got to do it; you can't let them get away with it. Come on. We're trying to help you".
She lowered her eyes and meekly asked "Have I got to take everything off? Can't I just lift my skirt up?"
"Did your mum let you just lift your skirt?"
"No" Bee replied sullenly "I had to take it off".
"You've got to take it off now then" I said "but I want you take everything else off as well".
"Why?" she whined.
She sounded so pathetic then that I felt annoyed. I wanted to humiliate her even more.
So I pretended to be thinking of her. I knew she would trust me. Perversely that knowledge, and the further knowledge that I would almost immediately betray that blind trust, aroused me.
"Because I like to see you like that. I like to look at your little titties and your hairy pus; and anyway, we're going to give you a good fingering before we cane you so it won't feel so bad. We're trying to help you remember... we're your friends...."
I put on my sweetest, kindest smile and ran the fingers of my left hand gently through her hair; pulling it away from her face. My right hand though gripped the cane with steely determination. I could hardly wait.
With her hair pulled back we could all clearly see the confused expression; the flushed cheeks; the watery, docile eyes.
"Come on Bee" I cajoled again "strip off. We haven't got much time".
We all stood back and watched as Bee undressed.
She took her skirt off and this time folded it and neatly placed it on an old stool in the corner of the room. I smiled inwardly as I saw she had already removed her pants. The other girls giggled throughout as Bee continued to undress. Her blouse and bra quickly followed and she came back to stand in front of us.
But I hadn't finished with her yet.
"What about your shoes and socks?" I demanded "I want you take everything off".
Whining again, she protested "but my feet will get dirty. I might tread on something sharp..."
"Don't be a big fat baby!" I sternly reprimanded her. "Can't you just do it? For me?"
She bent over and took her shoes and socks off.
I watched with a certain level of joyous glee. Somehow that final act of submission - of complete compliance - having her totally naked and vulnerable - made me even more aroused. That simple act of removing her shoes and socks was, at that moment, more erotic than anything else she had done for me.
I was slightly hoarse in my arousal as I said "well done Bee. That's nice. Now put your hands on your head while we have a bit of fun first".
Without thinking she put her hands on her head and we four moved in like vampires to a kill.
I instructed her to open her legs while simultaneously grabbing her buttocks and spreading her cheeks "Come on Alice" I instructed "you first; get your finger up her bum."
Alice didn't need any further encouragement. She moved in straight away, grinning madly, and without further ceremony pushed her index finger deep into Bee's anus.
We all bent to watch as Bee gasped in shock. Then as Alice started to work her finger around Bee made this strange noise as though she couldn't make her mind up whether it was painful or pleasurable "ooooooo...oh ...oh..ooh"
We giggled even more at that and Bee's face got redder and redder.
I then put my hand on her cunt and worked my fingers between her hairy labia. True to form she was soaking. Like Alice I didn't waste any time either. I pushed one, two, three fingers deep into her vagina. I could feel Alice's finger working away in her anus; pressing against my knuckles through the membrane.
I didn't hesitate to tell the others. "She's soaking again". Piling on the humiliation.
The girls all giggled. Feigning good-natured humour I observed "I think she's probably a slut. She loves it." Then turning to Bee and withdrawing my fingers to tickle her clitoris said "are you Bee? Are you a slut?"
Bee didn't actually respond directly. She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips together. "Mmmmmmmmm" was all that came out. Non-committal; ashamed; humiliated.
Laughing, I took my hand away. Looking at Gemma and Carol (Alice was still busy tormenting Bee's anus) I offered "do you want a go?"
The two younger girls took it turns then to give Bee a good fingering - commenting again about her wetness; about how they could feel Alice's intrusive finger. I meanwhile tweaked and pulled on her erect nipples and then started to caress her naked breasts with the cane.
I couldn't wait any longer; and I thought Beatrice was about to cum -- which would have spoilt it -- so I told the girls to stand back and then, to Beatrice, who shuddered and moaned as the girls pulled away, I said "Bend over. Put your hands on your knees. Open your legs a bit."
All four of us where standing behind her, watching her bend and spread herself in submission. We exchanged looks. Grinning. Alice had to stifle her laughter by pushing her fist into her mouth.
Then with more relish than I could have thought possible I drew my arm back and whipped the cane hard across those inviting buttocks.
Oh my dear God; it was such bliss. The screaming response from Bee was more than I could have hoped for. She instantly released this agonised howl and leapt forward - jumping up and down. Her hands came behind her - kneading and squeezing her anguished behind.
The girls were leaping and dancing too; with joy. They embraced each other in a frenzy of cruel lust as Bee hopped about -- crying "Ow! Ow! Ow! noooh! Ow!"
As for me I nearly came on the spot.
We all calmed down after a few moments and I was able to speak to Beatrice who had slumped onto her knees -- oblivious to the dirty floor -- sobbing.
"So did it hurt Bee? Was it as bad as when your mum does it?"
She looked up at my `kind, caring' face. Tears ran down her cheeks as she replied "y...y...yes. It was..." and she started to sob again.
"That's OK; it's OK" I comforted her. "That's how it's supposed to be. Come on, get up. Only another nine now"