The cobbing of Midshipman Mary Wells


The three junior midshipmen stood before Acting Lieutenant Peacock quaking in their seat boots. For one of them, this was the third time this week and the umpteenth time since the HMS Artemis had left England.

When Mary Wells had taken her late cousin, Martin Wells’ place as a midshipman on board, she had not counted on some of the more unpleasant aspects of ship’s life. Even now, she could think of nothing but the cobbing rod the lieutenant braced between his hands as he bawled the ‘three boys’ out. Added to the threat of the stick across her rump, was the fear that at any moment she could be discovered and exposed as a woman.

“All right.” Lieutenant Peacock sighed. “Wells remain here you two get out of my sight.”

The two younger officers offered their salutes and turned on their heels, breaking into a run at the door as they fled in relief.

“Now Wells what am I to do with you?” Peacock growled. “You were up before me on Wednesday for a touch of the stick. I have never known such a useless lad.”

“Sorry sir.” Mary said, remembering to keep her voice low.

The Lieutenant tapped the stick across his palm. She remembered how it had felt on the previous two occasions she had to bend for it. Also, as she had never been called skinny and even as a young girl she had been broad in the beam, with the tightness of her breeches, it was a wonder that she had not been found out before now.

“Sorry sir. Is that all you have to say. You are here to be an officer, the men will look to you.” Peacock growled. “Sorry sir.” He spat. “Baa.”

Mary was struggling not to cry by now, feminine whiles was the last thing that would help her cause now.

“Well my lad sorry won’t cut it this time.” The lieutenant said at last. “It’s a full cobbing for you this time.”

“But sir please.” Mary gasped. A full cobbing meant a thrashing with the breeches down. Notwithstanding her immanent discovery, it was a fate not to be contemplated by a girl.

“Please sir nothing.” Peacock barked. “Get your breeches down boy and place yourself across the mess table.”

“Yes sir.” Mary said wide-eyed, by now too well drilled to disobey.

She turned and fumbled with her buttons.

“Come on we haven’t got all day, yours won’t be the first bare arse I’ve seen.”

Mary let her breaches fall and gasped in shock certain she was undone.

“Well bend over boy.” The Lieutenant ordered.

Keeping her legs firm together, she did as she was told and braced herself against the table’s far edge.

Lieutenant Peacock wasted no time. Although he paused for a moment at the surprising fullness of the boys arse, he had other duties and the gloomy midshipman’s mess was not the best place to spend an afternoon.

The seconds of pause seemed like an eon to the nervous girl. Surely she was undone. Did she hope for that? At least he wouldn’t thrash a woman.

The stick cut hard and deep across the broadest part of her bottom. Her womanish yelp raised a laugh around the ship, but at a supposed 14, it aroused no suspicions.

The second stroke followed on quickly exacting the same sharp cry. Why couldn’t she hold her peace? She cursed herself. Then the pain of the first, followed so urgently by the second, began to build and she slapped at the tabletop as if the submission would end her ordeal.

She began to gurgle at tears even as the third added to the lines of pain on her bottom. Boys don’t cry. She told herself. Damn this ship and damn the sea. Why did she ever think it would be fun?

The fourth stroke was laid on exactly below the third, closer to her womanish parts and all the more sensitive.

“Please god.” She said in an altogether very wet accent.

“Justice always pleases god young Wells.” The Lieutenant said firmly as he laid on another. “And you truly deserve this you hapless boy.”

“Yes sir.” Mary wailed as she took yet another.

She gurgle-growled through clenched teeth and half imagined that Lieutenant Peacock had swapped the stick for his sword at some point, so sharp was the pain of her thrashing.

“Take another for your trouble.” Peacock offered. “You are soft for a boy. Mollycoddled at home I’ll warrant. Well, we will soon toughen you up.”

By now the steady strokes had reached the fold where her buttocks met thigh and the knife-edged stick was making its way back up her bottom. In its dreadful wake, it left a wealth of pain.

“This is what we call a full cobbing lad. See how it’s different from your last two adventures here.”

“Es sir.” She gasped, struggling for air.

“You have healthy hams for a boy, lets put four more high upon them and say no more.” Peacock observed. “What do you say? Will justice be served by it?”

“Sss ir.” She groaned.

The last four were the worst she believed and never had she come so close to blurting out that she was only a girl. But at last, it was over.

“All right repair your uniform and get out.” Lieutenant Peacock said as he replaced the stick.

“Yes Sir.” She sobbed.

Mary paused at the door as she fumbled with her buttons. How could she show her face after that sissy performance?

“Ship ahoy.” Screamed a voice high above.

“Beat to quarters.” Bellowed another nearer to.

As the sound of cannon trundling on the decks filled the ship, the young officer dashed to her post. They had other worries now. The French had been sighted.

4 Responses to “The cobbing of Midshipman Mary Wells”

  1. Yes, Mary Wells now midshipmadam certainly deserved to be flogged. Rules abroad ship must be obeyed. If I was commandant of this ship, 25 strokes of the whip she would receive upon her tender bare bottom. Laid on with gusto, by the sailorman that lashed her.

  2. Nice. I really enjoyed this one. 🙂

  3. 3 Karl Friedrich Gauss

    Imagine if it really happened! I guess girls going to sea as boys was not unheard of. But I wonder how they handled their periods.

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