Children of the Church 3: The St Cuthbert's Cadet Corps
by Nap
copyright 2002 by Nap, all rights reserved
* * * * *
Note This story is a fantasy for adults only. The
author utterly condemns any form of actual abuse
physical, sexual, psychological and emotional to any
person of any age.
* * * * *
Marcia Shore shut and locked the bathroom door behind
her. She lifted her skirt and eased down her panties.
Even now, a couple of days after she and her brothers and
sister were shamefully beaten in public at the front of
their father's church, the twelve-year-old's bottom still
felt tender whenever she had to touch it. But at least
the pain had lessened, whereas the disgrace of being
stripped in the presence of the entire congregation had
not faded at all. And whenever she had to bare her
bottom, even in private as now, she was reminded of her
humiliation. Marcia carefully balanced her bottom on the
toilet seat and began to empty her bowel. Just as she
had come upstairs she had seen the arrival of Colonel
Dashforth at the vicarage. She wondered what he wanted
with her father. She shuddered; the colonel had been
right at the front of the church in his family pew with
his wife and that brat of a granddaughter Rowena and they
had all seen her shame. She blushed at the thought. She
finished her evacuation, wiped her bottom and pulled up
her knickers. She crossed to the basin to wash her
hands. Whatever the business of Colonel Dashforth it
couldn't possibly affect her.
*
"It's like this padre," Colonel Dashforth said, "what you
did in the church on Sunday was an inspiration a damned
inspiration!"
The Reverend Daniel Shore's thin mouth smiled bleakly.
He wished the colonel would not call him 'padre' and
objected to the epithet 'damned', especially in
connection with his church, but Colonel Dashforth was the
most important man locally, whose family had been in
charge of affairs in Wormsford St Cuthbert for
generations, so it did not do well to go against him.
"I am pleased my humble sermon was so well regarded," he
said with bogus humility.
"Bloody right!" boomed the colonel and the vicar flinched
fastidiously. "Let me tell you, padre, your sermon
stirred the lady wife and me to thrash our
granddaughter."
"Rowena?" asked the vicar with a flash of interest.
"Just so. And the Welkin boys whose parents were at
lunch. You know them? New to the village go ahead
sort of couple."
"I regret they do not attend church."
"They will, vicar, they will. And so will plenty of
others who hear about your sermons! What! And then my
daughter Deirdre came over with her two. The times I've
thrashed that girl!" Colonel Dashforth reminisced fondly,
"but it was her own two brats I beat on Sunday
afternoon."
"So that would be five children who received the benefit
of my injunction," mused the vicar.
"What? Oh, bloody right! What! Anyway, afterwards I
came up with a happy thought: The St Cuthbert's Cadets!"
"I beg your pardon?" The vicar was mystified.
"A cadet corps for the children of the village aged
between seven and fourteen. Something like the scouts
but with a lot more discipline. Discipline! I'd be in
command, of course. Boys and girls together I've been
thinking about the uniform: brief shorts for the boys and
little skirts for the girls not that they'll be wearing
either much of the time what! What! The thing is,
padre, with your support the mission will go with much
more of a swing."
"Ah," the vicar said, enlightenment dawning.
"Yes, if I could guarantee your brats in the business
we'll have captured the fort without a fight."
"Of course," beamed the vicar, glad to have the colonel
owe him a favour, "you may be assured of the membership
of my own children."
Upstairs Marcia dried her hands quite unaware she had
just been enrolled in the St Cuthbert's Cadet Corps.
*
Most of the parents in Wormsford St Cuthbert received the
idea of the cadets with great enthusiasm. The
combination of the vicar and the colonel gave the plan a
definite kudos and the majority of parents wanted their
children to participate. The kids were not so keen,
believing their bodies were going to be in the front
line. They were right.
So uniforms of brown shorts or skirts and green shirts
with a bright gold Maltese cross on the breast pocket
were designed by Colonel and Mrs Dashforth, bought by
eager parents and worn by their less than wholehearted
children, and soon came the day of the first meeting of
the St Cuthbert's Cadets.
Colonel Dashforth inspected his force of about a hundred
children. He had split them into two companies red and
blue, and then each of these divided into three sections.
Each section was made up of juniors 7, 8, 9 and 10-
year-olds, and seniors 11. 12, 13 and 14-year-olds. A
fine body of kids, Colonel Dashforth thought as he ran
his eyes over the assembled ranks. Rowena attended,
naturally, and the vicar's kids. There was Marcia
looking snooty as ever he'd have her stripped pretty
damned quick if he knew anything about it! The Welkin
boys were there, and their parents too as Jeremy and
Sybil had volunteered their services as his assistants.
He had put Jeremy in charge of Blue Company. Little Lisa
Wakefield, who had been notably spanked through the
village under the arm of he father after the vicar's
celebrated sermon, was in the front rank of seven-year-
olds. Rumour had it that she'd been spanked at least
once a day ever since. Perhaps he should just take her
knickers down there and then and see if she had a red
bottom! What!
He continued to look over his troops. Aha Paul Noble!
The aptly named thirteen-year-old had an air of delicate
dreaminess. Well, he'd soon wake the lad up! Fiona
Fascally a copper-haired, big-bottomed girl, of ten who
was tall enough to be at least three years older
contrasted with little Lois Fleet, dark-haired and fine-
boned child who was eleven and looked about eight. There
was Tommy Treadle, a cheeky, freckle-face eleven-year-old
and
*
Rowena Dashforth watched her grandfather inspect the
cadets. She fervently hoped this new interest would
distract attention from her. She had not been caned
again since the Sunday of the vicar's sermon, but she had
been spanked several times and humiliated more often than
that. Last night, for instance, Aunt Deirdre had been
round with Emily and Anthony and it had been decided that
all three cousins should have a bath a bath together!
The big old cast iron tub was large enough, but
understandably she'd not wanted to share it with a little
girl and boy. But by now she knew better than to argue
even when Aunt Deirdre had said she was going to undress
each child herself. She had started with young Emily,
quickly stripping the little girl before lifting her up
by putting one hand under her bottom and the other round
her chest and dumping her in the warm water. Next came
Anthony, who was probably used to being naked in front of
his mother, but squirmed uncomfortably to feel Rowena's
eyes on his little penis. He got his own back though,
because after he had been picked up in the same way and
put alongside his sister, it was Rowena's turn to be
undressed. Rowena's face glowed with shame as Aunt
Deirdre's fingers undid zips, buttons, hooks and eyes.
She was just glad it wasn't Uncle John taking her clothes
off, but she had an uncomfortable feeling that next time
it could be!
When Aunt Deirdre had Rowena down to her underwear she
unhooked the girl's bra and threw it into the corner
saying, "I don't think you should be allowed to wear this
any more. I shall suggest so to your grandma and
grandpa. You don't really need it anyway," she added
contemptuously, flicking Rowena's small breasts with her
fingers. "They didn't allow me to wear a bra until I was
fifteen, and I was a lot bigger than you."
Rowena's eyes filled with dismay at this loss of the
treasured symbol of maturity, but Aunt Deirdre was
already slipping down her panties to utterly denude her
in front of her curious little cousins who watched wide-
eyed. Rowena tried to cover herself with her hands as
she stepped towards the bath, but Aunt Deirdre insisted
on lifting her into the tub in the same way she had her
own children that is with one hand under her bottom and
the other arm encircling her developing chest. Rowena
was really too big for this handling, but Deirdre was
surprisingly strong and plonked Rowena into the water
between her own pair.
Although the tub was big, the three sitting children did
take up the space so that Rowena found herself in close
contact with the bare bodies of the two smaller children,
and they with her. They spread their legs to accommodate
her. Rowena, being an only child, was used to bathing
alone and shrank away. Then, when she accidentally
brushed Anthony's willy with her hand, she leapt as
though she had received an electric shock. ""Don't
cringe from my kids like they're contaminated," Aunt
Deirdre ordered with a grin, "or you'll be getting
another spanking. How many have you had since the other
Sunday? Four? Or is it five?"
Rowena didn't answer. Her grandparents seemed to smack
her a lot more often than that, but she supposed that the
random slaps to bottom and legs did not really count,
whereas the lengthy bare bottom session with her
grandmother and a hairbrush last night, for example, did.
But Aunt Deirdre didn't seem to want an answer as she
hauled little Emily to her feet and began vigorously
rubbing her body, arms and legs with a bar of soap.
Emily patiently endured this rough treatment being well
used to such forceful washing. She cooperated by lifting
her arms and opening her legs so that her mother could
clean in all her little nooks and crannies of armpit and
groin then obligingly turned around for her back to be
washed, starting at her neck. "Bend forward," ordered
her mother curtly when she was half way down and Emily
complied. Her mother pulled apart Emily's chubby cheeks.
"You really ought to be able to clean yourself properly
after you've been to the toilet," she complained and
soaped and rinsed well inside the crack before giving the
little girl's bent bottom a couple of sharp slaps. So
close was Rowena's head to the little girl's buttocks
that the spray from the impact spattered against her
face.
When Aunt Deirdre had finished with her daughter she
turned to her son. Anthony stood so that with Rowena
sitting next to him his little willy and balls were only
inches from her face. She looked at the little worm-like
thing hanging there and wished it was Matthew Shore who
was standing naked next to her. The idea sent a ripple
of excitement through her body, centred on her groin.
Aunt Deirdre began washing her son's body. Rowena waited
for her to reach the most interesting bit. When she did
so she handled the boy's genitalia quite roughly as she
soaped him well, but he didn't seem to object. Then
Rowena was surprised to see Aunt Deirdre pull back the
little lad's foreskin to reveal the glans, which she
cleaned, making the boy flinch a little. "This has to be
kept clean or it goes a bit cheesy," she explained
conversationally to her niece. When she'd finished with
his front she washed his back. "Bend forward so I can
see your bottom," she instructed. "Hm, a bit cleaner
than your sister's, " she commented as she opened him up
and washed him.
"OK, you can sit down," Aunt Deirdre told her son, "and
you can get to your feet," she went on to Rowena.
"But I can wash myself," Rowena objected in horror.
"Maybe, but today I'm washing you. So stand up fast or
you'll be having your bottom smacked. Have you ever been
spanked on a wet bottom?"
"No," Rowena muttered miserably.
"Well it stings more, doesn't it, Emily?"
"Yes, Mummy."
Rowena rose reluctantly from the water. She was
shamefully aware of the eyes of the two little children
examining her body without inhibition. Aunt Deirdre
began soaping her throat. "Lift up your arms." Rowena
obeyed and she twitched as her aunt's soaping fingers
tickled. Worse was to come when Aunt Deirdre began to
soap her chest. She was horrified to find her nipples
standing up hard as waves of sensation flowed over her.
She squirmed away, hunching her shoulders. "Don't be
silly, Rowena," snapped her aunt, "or I shall get Anthony
to smack your bottom."
"Can I, Mum?" the boy asked excitedly.
"Oh, if you like," his mother consented carelessly and
Rowena immediately felt a surprisingly hard slap on one
cheek from the boy's small hand.
"Ow! Stop it," objected Rowena.
"Can I smack her too, Mummy?" Emily asked eagerly as her
brother continued to slap Rowena's bum with enthusiasm.
"No. And you'd better stop now, Anthony. You are
splashing."
By now Aunt Deirdre was working her way down to the area
where Rowena's body met her legs. the young girl knew
what was going to happen even before her aunt began to
lather her light pubic hair. More shameful sensations
began to flood her body and she gasped and squirmed as
soapy hands slid over her. "My, you are a randy little
brat, aren't you!" Aunt Deirdre grinned. She washed down
Rowena's legs. "Turn around," she instructed and soaped
Rowena's back. The twelve-year-old knew that Aunt
Deirdre would wash her bottom and hated the thought. She
hoped it was properly clean. "Bend forward," came the
command. Rowena bent and felt her cheeks being prised
pulled apart. Then she was aware of Aunt Deirdre's soapy
fingers. This tickled too in an oddly pleasurable way.
She wriggled. "Ha, a bit ticklish, eh?" laughed her aunt
and washed down the backs of her legs.
*
So Rowena now stood to attention in the ranks of Blue
Company's Second Section wearing no bra beneath her
uniform green shirt. She turned her attention back to
her grandfather who was now speaking:
" discipline, hard work and plenty of exercise and
outdoor activity," he maundered on.
Elsewhere, Marcia Shore grimaced. Her idea of fun was a
good book, a bag of sweets and a soft chair. She knew
she was going to hate the cadets, but her father had
enrolled her and that was that. She loathed the uniform
too the skirt was ridiculously short it barely
covered her knickers! Still, at least she had a bra,
unlike stupid Rowena not that that brat had much to
hold up anyway. Still, Rowena's grandfather must be
jolly strict and he was the man in charge. She'd better
keep in his good books. The boys weren't any better off,
she mused; their brown shorts were very brief and tight.
But her brother Matthew seemed proud of his uniform and
pleased to be in the cadets. Boys she just despised
them!
Thirteen-year-old Matthew was indeed happy to have joined
the cadets. Unlike his twelve-year-old sister, he was an
energetic, athletic lad who liked sport and outdoor
activities. And he loved his uniform. He thought he
looked good in it which he did and was proud of the
single gold stripe on his arm that signified he was the
second cadet in seniority in his section. Rowena was in
his section too. He glanced round to where she stood.
She looked good in her uniform too; the short skirt made
her legs look even longer. The Welkin boys said her
grandparents had beaten her nude, and Marcia had told him
Rowena was not allowed to wear a bra any more. The idea
excited him and he felt his penis stiffen in response.
The colonel finished speaking and sent the four groups to
different activities. Red Company Seniors were to have
instruction in drill from a sporty fourteen-year-old girl
named Laura Brown who had been appointed Company Drill
Major. Most of the kids knew her to be a bully and she
was now to have the chance to indulge her spiteful tastes
The colonel had decided that for parade purposes the
cadets should adopt a high stepping, arm swinging style
and it was this that the Red Company seniors now
energetically practised under Laura's cruel command.
"Left! Right! Left! Right!. Get those knees up! Higher
than that! Swing those arms! Shoulder high! Hup! Hup!
Hup! Hup!"
Marcia struggled to perform these movements. Her brother
Matthew had no trouble. Neither, frustratingly, did
Rowena, but Marcia, unfit and unpractised in physical
pursuits, was making a mess of it. She could see from
the corner of her eye the colonel glaring critically at
his troops. She desperately didn't want that eye to
catch her. Luckily for Marcia, there was at least one
other cadet who was worse than she. The colonel had a
brief word with the strapping Laura.
"Red Company halt!" Laura screamed "Cadet Paul Noble
to the front march!"
The curly haired lad self-consciously shuffled from the
ranks.
"March you imbecile!" bellowed Laura. "Left! Right
Left Right!"
The refined boy, who liked to paint water colours and
compose sonnets, did his best to move in a military
manner. When he reached the front of the assembled
company, Laura made him march up and down, but he seemed
unable to coordinate his arms and legs. The colonel
whispered something new to Laura and she grinned
maliciously.
"I know what is wrong with you, Noble," Laura screamed at
the flinching boy, her mouth only an inch from his face,
"your clothes are getting in the way Get them off
now!"
"B-but Laura ," stuttered the lad.
"Don't you 'Laura' me! I'm Drill Major Brown and don't
you forget it. Now strip!"
Blushing hotly the Paul's sensitive fingers began undoing
his shirt buttons. His hands were trembling and her
fumbled clumsily.
"Faster than that!" shrieked Laura. "Get on with it!
You can keep your shoes and socks on, but everything else
off!"
Paul struggled out of his shirt to reveal a slim, pale
torso. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. He
lowered his shorts, straining to pull them over his
shoes. He stood in his brief white underpants.
"Off! Off! Off!" Laura screamed in rage.
Wretchedly, the boy slipped them off. He stood,
protectively cradling his genitalia in his fine fingered
hands.
"Stand to attention! Feet together! Hands by your
sides! Head up! Shoulders back! Stomach in! Chest out!"
As the sensitive boy obeyed this barrage of commands, all
the girls manoeuvred their heads to get a clear view of
his revealed private parts, which were disappointingly
small and completely hairless.
"Now, let's see you march! Right turn! Forward march!
Left right left right! Lift those knees! About
turn! "Hup hup! Higher than that! Up above your cock
if that insignificant little worm can be called a
cock!"
Paul was forced to strut up and down some minutes, his
face blazing from the indignity of his position and
Laura's raucously sneering insults. Then Laura brought
him to a halt, made him turn towards the assembled
company and ordered him to mark time. The lad was
obliged to face the two dozen or so boys and girls and
stamp his feet and swing his arms vigorously while they
watched. His little white willy swung and jumped,
bouncing against his balls in time to the high-stepping
action. "About turn!" yelled Laura, and Paul was
compelled to perform the same actions with his back to
his audience. The insubstantial muscles of his pale
bottom cheeks undulated in time with his movements.
"Keep your back straight!" Laura bellowed. Paul tried to
obey, lost his rhythm and somehow managed to trip over
his own feet.
"You incompetent imbecile!" Laura raged. "Bend over!
Touch your toes."
Apart from the four gold stripes on her sleeve, the
Company Drill Major's badge of office was a swagger stick
made from a length of rattan from one of the Colonel's
many canes. Putting such an implement in the hands of a
girl like Laura was just asking for her to beat someone's
bottom with it which was precisely why the colonel had
provided her with it. The unathletic Paul winced as he
stretched down, tightening his small bottom. Laura
wasted no time on finesse, but brutally swung the whippy
cane across the boy's taut cheeks. "Ouch!" yelped Paul,
but already the stick was whistling down to strike his
buttocks again, and his second yell merged with the first
as did the third and fourth.
"Stand up!" Laura screamed "Don't rub your bum! Stand
to attention! About turn! Mark time! Left right
left right!
By this time the remaining cadets were enjoying watching
the public ordeal of one their number and had relaxed a
little. One, a big ginger haired lout of fourteen named
Jake Meadows, so far forgot himself as to call out an
insult to the tormented boy. This breach of discipline
outraged Drill Major Brown. "Cadet Jake Meadows to the
front march!" Laura screamed. Jake tried to put a
brave face on his comeuppance and stamped smartly to the
front. "Right!" bellowed Laura, "You're so clever you
can show us how it's done. But first get that uniform
off!" Jake's face blazed, but he was a bold lad and
didn't like to show fear to anyone, so he swiftly
stripped. He was a stark contrast to Paul. Jake was the
son of a local farmer and well used to hard work. As a
result his shoulders were broad, his chest deep and his
arms and legs firmly muscled. But the most obvious and
impressive distinction was that Jake's cock hung thick
and long from a coarse carpet of red curls. The other
children stared at this revelation the boys wide-eyed
in envy and the girls open-mouthed in admiration.
Laura put the lads through their paces, making them march
up and down and then to mark time, first facing the other
cadets and then turned away from them. Jake's dangling
penis flapped and swayed as he vigorously swung his arms
and stamped his feet. His prominent buttocks rippled as
firm muscles powered his sturdy legs. Anyone watching
and that meant everyone knew that Laura Brown would
soon find some excuse to beat that bum. And so she did
except she now knew she needed no real reason and simply
ordered Jake to bend over and thrashed him with her
swagger stick. The tough lad remained stoically silent
as the rattan whistled down and landed with sizzling
crack across his brawny buttocks.
Keeping Paul and Jake separate from the main body of
cadets, Laura marched them all up and down again and
again, keeping her beady eyes alert for any failure from
among the marching children. She soon spotted one.
Little Lois Fleet was eleven and so a Senior, but she was
still smaller than most of the Juniors. Consequently her
short legs could not keep up with the longer strides of
her companions and she had to take little skips now and
then to catch up, losing the step and spoiling the
uniformity of Red Company's motion. This irregularity
upset Laura's orderly mind. She brought the company to a
halt and turned the ranks to face her. "Cadet Lois
Fleet!" Laura yelled, ""to the front march!"
Dejectedly, the red-faced girl did her best to obey in a
martial manner, but her little stamping steps looked
simply silly as her diminutive figure marched forward.
"You horrible little girl!" yelled Laura. "You are
ruining my parade! You should be with the Juniors, you
puny, pathetic wimp! Get those clothes off now!" But
even before the command was completed, Lois was
unbuttoning her shirt and within moments Lois, like the
other two, was wearing nothing but her brown shoes and
brown, knee high socks. Laura now made the nude little
girl march up and down in front of the assembled cadets
while she screamed at her to "lift those knees" and
"swing those arms". But despite Lois's best efforts, it
just was not good enough and before long Lois was bent
over with her tiny bottom towards the other cadets while
Lois beat her cheeks with her stick. After this she
ordered the three offenders to march up and down
together, and very funny they looked as little Lois
contrasted with the meaty Jake, who was different again
from slender Paul. And of course there was still the
problem of different length of stride, so when Lois led
Jake's sturdy knees crashed into her insubstantial
bottom, but when Lois was at the back she still had to
half run. All of which threw Laura into a frenzy of
frustration and soon all three were bent over for another
beating which left Lois and Paul crying loudly.
Laura returned to the rest of the company and drilled
them. By now Marcia and many others were scared silly
that they might be the next to be called out. Marcia did
her best, but the more she concentrated the more mistakes
she made. In desperation she prayed more fervently than
she ever had in her father's church that Laura's critical
gaze might not be directed towards her, but maybe God's
attention was elsewhere, or perhaps he had a sense of
humour, because once again the cadets were brought to a
halt and Laura's voice rang out angrily, "Cadet Marcia
Shore! To the front march!"
Marcia advanced stiffly. "Don't you know your left from
your right, you stupid prat?" Laura demanded. Marcia was
a clever swot and the not over bright Laura was delighted
to get one over her.
"Yes, Drill Major Brown," Marcia snivelled correctly,
hoping to gain the other girl's favour, "but I sort of
made a mistake. Sorry."
"Sorry!" Laura screamed. "I'll give you sorry! Take
that uniform off!"
"Please, Laura ," Marcia pleaded.
"Off!"
Her eyes blurred with tears, Marcia's fingers tugged at
the buttons of her green shirt She managed to take it
off and then undid her short brown skirt. She stood in
her bra and brief white panties. "Please don't ," she
began to beg.
"Off!" Laura insisted, swishing her swagger stick.
"Oooh," Marcia moaned, and unhooked her bra to release
her small pointy breasts. Sniffing loudly, she slipped
her panties down her legs, and over her socks and shoes.
Although she knew it to be hopeless, she did her best to
protect her modesty with her hands. "Hands by your
sides! Chest out! Stomach in!" Laura ordered vehemently
and the miserable Marcia was obliged to stick her rather
shapely breasts towards the rest of the company. Those
children who had not been in church when the vicar's kids
had been publicly stripped and thrashed, now saw for the
first time the snooty Marcia's unprotected, full frontal
nudity. They enjoyed it, as did those who had seen the
sight before.
But now Laura lined up her four delinquents and marched
them up and down for the entertainment of the watching
cadets. When they marched one way Lois led, followed by
Jake, Marcia and Paul, when they turned about, Paul was
in front and little Lois brought up the rear. The
arrangement soon showed its hazards for the marching
children. When Lois led, Jake's much longer stride had
him stumbling over her heels causing Marcia's nude body
crash against his meaty buttocks and in consequence
Paul's naked self to collide with Marcia's bare bottom
making her the meat in the sandwich, so to speak. These
repeated bodily contacts soon had an unfortunate effect
on Paul and his little knob rose to its full, though
rather insubstantial, length. So now when he bumped into
Marcia, she felt his stiff little cock against her cheeks
This added to Paul's nervousness, and when he was the one
in front he stumbled awkwardly, causing a chain reaction
as the other three fell over each other so that they all
ended up in an unruly heap of arms, legs, bottoms and
genitals. Laura was beside herself with fury at this
clumsiness and ordered them all to their feet in a line
bent over away from the ranks of cadets who thus saw four
very different bare bottoms. First Paul's lean cheeks,
then Marcia's plumply rounded bottom, then Jake's beefy
buttocks and finally Lois's miniature bum. Each of these
diverse backsides was soundly thrashed with Laura's
stick, so that only the tough Jake was not crying loudly
by the time she had finished.
Now Laura ordered the four offenders to mark time facing
the rest of the company. While Laura screamed
instructions, the four children all swung their arms and
brought up their knees just as high as they possibly
could in the hope of avoiding more punishment. The
beating had done nothing to reduce Paul's small erection
and so his stiff cock wagged above balls bouncing between
slim thighs. Next to him, Marcia's little pointy breasts
jigged vibrantly. Alongside her, Jake's long cock swung
rhythmically from side to side and back and forth.
Lastly, Lois's little body was too immature for fleshy
parts and only her dark pigtails flapped in time to her
pounding feet.
The drill session finally came to an end, much to the
relief of the four cadets on display, but to the
disappointment of the rest. The colonel was well pleased
with the parade and chuckled over it long afterwards.
"Like the blasted Keystone Cops," he guffawed. He had
been highly satisfied with his prot‚g‚, Laura, though he
decided that the time would come when this virago would
need to taken down a peg or two. He was looking forward
to doing it.