Duty
by Tasha


     'Out of my way, snotty!'

     Emma stumbled as the senior midshipman shoved past her, knocking
her cocked hat to the deck. Several men laughed.
     She mustn't react like a woman. She was a midshipman in His
Majesty's Navy. She knew she looked smart and convincing in her blue
frock coat. Her long hair was tied with a velvet ribbon and her
feminine features didn't mar the illusion at all.
     Regaining her composure, she replaced her hat. Then she set off
for the admiral's day cabin.
     She rapped on the door and entered when she heard the familiar
voice. The admiral was seated at a long table, his head bent over a
map.
     Emma cleared her throat. 'You sent for me, sir?' she said in a
deep voice.
     'I sent nothing,' he growled, not looking up. 'But orders that I
was not to be disturbed.'
     'But sir, the bosun said I needed a caning and he told me to bring
you his rattan.'
     Admiral Nelson raised his head and stared at Emma in disbelief.
Then a smile began to spread across his features. 'Did he indeed?'
     'Yes, sir.' Emma tried to hide her own smile.
     'And what is the offence - ahem - boy?'
     She blushed. 'Conduct unbecoming, sir.'
     'I see.' Nelson rose and circled her, nodding as he looked her up
and down. 'You realise that it's most unusual for an admiral to
administer punishment himself.'
     'Yes, sir, but the bosun felt it would be improper to punish me
himself,' she said quickly.
     'Very well. You're familiar with the procedure?'
     She squirmed. 'No, sir. I've never been caned.'
     Nelson chuckled. 'Well, I doubt if you'll forget it. Remove your
coat. Follow me.'
     Emma obeyed and he led her through the doorway to his personal
cabin. His cot hung between two 12-pounder cannons. He gestured to the
nearest one.
     '"Kissing the gunner's daughter", it's called.' He guided her into
position, bending her over it and along its length.
     Emma wrapped her legs around the cannon and squeezed. The position
made an excellent target of her backside. Her tight white breeches
wouldn't offer any protection from the bosun's rattan.
     'I think six strokes will be an adequate lesson,' Nelson said,
measuring the cane against her bottom gently, preparing her.
     Emma tensed in anticipation and the first stroke landed with a
vicious THWACK. She gasped and clutched the cannon, but did not cry
out. Heat flooded her limbs as the second and third strokes fell
likewise, stinging, biting, cutting. The pain was intense and
exquisite.
     The next two strokes made her yelp and the final one brought tears
to her eyes. Then, too quickly, it was over.
     Rubbing her bottom, she faced the admiral. 'Th-thank you, sir,'
she whispered, her feminine parts throbbing and desperate for release
from her boy's uniform.
     Admiral Nelson regarded her sternly. 'It's no more than my duty,'
he said. 'As England expects.'
     'Yes, sir,' she said, grinning. 'And now I have a duty of my own.'
She began unlacing her breeches.



© 2004 SSC by Tasha