Marriage Training Ch. 05

Author's Note: It is suggested that you read the previous chapters of this series as they are not meant to be read on their own. Enjoy!

*

"You'd best get up Miss, you don't want to be late!"

Despite her determination not to have a repeat performance of the day before, Vivian found herself struggling even harder to wake up than she had the previous day. The long day at the practicum, the spanking, the subsequent climax, and the earlier hour than she was used to were all working against her. She dragged herself out of the sheets, stumbling through her toilette as the maid fussed over the bags under her eyes and practically had to force her to eat a light breakfast.

Muscles ached, although her bottom wasn't nearly as sore as she would have expected after the spanking. She had snuck a peek in the mirror when the maid was dressing her and seen that her skin looked perfectly clear without a hint of pink. It almost disturbed her that there were no remaining visible marks. Shouldn't there have been some lingering evidence of her ordeal, more a faint tingle in her bottom when she sat on the hard chair while the maid did her hair?

But the only visible evidence was the hated punishment chair, which was still sitting in the middle of her room. Vivian purposefully didn't look at it.

Hurrying the hallway, Vivian knew that she was on the borderline of being late. Today she the second one down the stairs, but Mrs. Banks was shaking her head, glancing at the clock and making a note on her paper pad, so she knew she was late. Looking at the clock she sighed. Two minutes late but her bottom already tingled in anticipation of being punished later.

The spanking she'd received the night before had been painful and left her humiliated and indignant, but the pleasure that had followed had been overwhelming. Would one always follow the other, she wondered? Was the pain worth the pleasure?

Before she could lose herself too much in her ruminations the last girls were hurrying down the steps, flushed with embarrassment at being late, and the companions were ushering them out the door to the carriages. Unlike yesterday there was no chattering of excitement or speculation; they had a basic idea of what was in store for them and had realized it was not all going to be easy or fun.

Relieved that she no longer had to start off the day, Vivian watched with interest as Rosalie, who had today's morning section, sorted the invitations that had been received in the "mail." After that came a planning of the day's menu for the various meals, then a quick walk around the house and gardens for both relaxation and to ascertain that everything was in order.

Then Vivian took over the reins, handling the luncheon with the other young ladies and the companions as her "guests." Once they were running their own households they would not have guests every day, but Mrs. Cunningham obviously felt that it was important to have as much practice with guests as possible because those were the situations which were most fraught with the possibility of failure. It was utterly nerve-wracking being in charge of the luncheon, ensuring that everything flowed smoothly from the meal itself to the conversation. Yesterday everyone had been quite well behaved, today two of the companions were obviously impersonating 'problem guests.' One kept attempting to steer the conversation in the direction of inappropriate topics, gossip about gentleman's mistresses, references to what happens in the marriage bed. All completely inappropriate for the young misses at the table, yet despite being one herself Vivian was responsible for guiding the conversation back to more appropriate venues.

The other companion became quite acerbic, very much like one of the tons dragons, the older ladies who ruled the roost and quite often cared little for the opinions of others. Vivian had met one at her cousin's wedding, and the companion was doing a very credible impersonation from what she remembered; rudely remarking on the dresses that the ladies around the table were wearing, interrupting their sentences... she was actually the more challenging because Vivian had to smooth things over for all parties without offending her.

By the time the luncheon was over Vivian felt quite battered; it had been a strain not to lose her temper for a bit. The "dragon" in particular had seemed almost gleeful about making things difficult for her.

It was rather disheartening to see how much Mrs. Banks was writing, although at least she was fairly certain she hadn't repeated any of her mistakes from the day before. Although it would have been almost difficult to make exactly the same errors, as she'd been in charge of an entirely different section of the day for today's practicum.

But she could now relax, somewhat, as her portion of the day was finished. All of the young ladies were on edge, waiting for something dire or exciting to happen. By the end of the day Vivian felt almost disgruntled when nothing had, and strangely weary from the tension of anticipation. Was she the only one who was going to have to deal with some kind of emergency?

Thinking it over, on the carriage ride back to the school, Vivian concluded that truly dire situations couldn't possible occur on a daily basis. And one could never anticipate when one would occur. As always, the teachers were a step ahead of her and the other students. The next crises would happen when they were feeling more comfortable, more confident. Not while they were on the tips of their toes, ready for any unexpected occurrences.

Vivian shared this theory over dinner, as she and the other Practicum students naturally gravitated towards sitting with each other. The other young ladies at the school were still involved with classes that taught theories, they didn't know the trials of actually putting those lessons into practice. It made for a kind of division between the Practicum ladies and the other students, and all five young ladies found themselves wanting to be able to discuss their day with others who would understand. They agreed with Vivian's theory and were generally supportive of each other; giving suggestions and commiserating over the lectures that they were sure to receive later that evening.

She felt a small tinge of resentment, as she realized that none of them were going to receive anything worse than a stern talking to. But then she also realized that none of them were likely to know anything of the hot bliss that had followed each of her more harrowing experiences at the hands of Mrs. Banks. Still, just as there was a division between the young ladies involved in the Practicum and the ladies still in classes, Vivian realized there was a division between her and these ladies with whom she was sharing her days. None of them could understand everything she was going through; the only person she would be able to confide in about such things was her companion.

Which, of course, was exactly how Mrs. Cunningham intended it.

******

The sharp rap of Mrs. Banks' knuckles preceded her entrance through Vivian's door. Vivian was seated at her windowseat, book in her hands, and she did everything she could to keep her attention away from the punishment chair in the center of the room.

"Good evening, Miss Stafford," said Mrs. Banks coolly as she swept into the room, closing the door with a solid thud behind her. Biting her lip, Vivian stood and bobbed a small curtsy.

"Good evening, Mrs. Banks."

They both stared at each other for a moment and Mrs. Banks raised her eyebrow and shook her head. "I thought you had a better memory than this Vivian. Where should you seat yourself so that we may begin tonight's Marriage Training lesson?"

Vivian hadn't forgotten, she had just been hoping to put off the inevitable. Still, she knew better than to talk back to Mrs. Banks. Hoping to smooth over her hesitation, she quickly walked to the punishment chair and sat down. "I'm sorry Mrs. Banks, it won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't," said Mrs. Banks, her soft voice sounding rather ominous. Vivian told herself that she was just imagining things, her anxiety adding more meaning to Mrs. Banks' words than were truly present. The companion ran a critical eye over Vivian's straight-back posture, skirts fanned out in a flattering manner, and hands demurely folded in her lap. Apparently finding nothing amiss, she consulted the pad of paper in her hand. "So. Tonight's count... five for the five minutes it took you to discourage Mrs. Marbury from her discussion on men's breeches, two for..." It took all of Vivian's willpower not to protest the list of transgressions. Surely it could not be considered her fault if the companions had been too enthusiastic in their disruptive roles! And yet she knew that in some small part it was. Society would judge her skills as a hostess just as sharply, if not more so. Blinking back the protests and the tears that threatened as she listened to all the ways in which she'd failed during the day, Vivian reasserted her self-vow to improve. "So that's a total of eighteen with my hand, plus four with the hairbrush for the two minutes you were late this morning and two more with the hairbrush for not immediately sitting in your punishment chair after greeting me."

"But I didn't know!" The words burst forth from Vivian's lips before she could stop them and she cringed, knowing instinctively that such an outburst would not be acceptable.

Indeed, Mrs. Banks frowned at her. "That's another two for protesting. Your punishments will never be decided by you, nor will they be excused for anything other than a situation out of your control. You did indeed know what the procedure was to be for this evening, you dawdled in an attempt to regain control over your punishment. If you ever have a true excuse you may present it, or you may beg if you are so inclined, but whether or not you will be allowed a reprieve will always be up to me, or eventually your husband."

Vivian stared down at her hands and didn't say anything further. She felt so conflicted... on one hand she was rather indignant that Mrs. Banks suggest that she beg, on the other hand she could feel the truth in the other woman's words. The need to reassert some control over the indignity of what was about to happen had been instinctual, but it was still the action that she had taken. The desire to please Mrs. Banks, and ultimately her husband, was very strong, but she obviously had some instincts to overcome along the way.

And she couldn't deny that her body was already feeling somewhat excited at the knowledge that she would be rewarded at the end of her punishment if she was good. Hopefully her outburst would not deny her that sweet finish.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Banks," she said finally when the silence seemed to drag out. She truly meant it as well.

"Very good, Miss Stafford," said her companion approvingly, and a little flutter of warmth went through Vivian at the accolade. The same words that Mrs. Banks had said the day before when she'd put her fingers between Vivian's legs with such delightful consequences. "You may now stand so that we may undress you."

Mrs. Banks was quite pleased with the progress that Miss Stafford had already made. She'd expected a bit of resistance still, yet Vivian's innate submissiveness had dominated her responses and she was already beginning to fall easily in line with the program laid out for her. The young woman quietly turned so that Mrs. Banks could undo the buttons along the back of her dress, revealing the lacy chemise and drawers beneath, covered by a rose pink corset with ivory laces. Vivian let out a shuddering breath as her corset was loosened and then removed. Looking down she blushed as she realized that her nipples were already hardened into little buds beneath her chemise, poking suggestively at the fabric. Beneath them she could see the coppery glint of the hair over her mound. Now, knowing the importance of that area, she realized how very suggestive her chemise was; something that she had never considered before.

She blushed even harder when Mrs. Banks turned her around and looked down at the rosy swells of her nipples, giving an approving nod.

"Do not be embarrassed by such responses," Mrs. Banks said, noticing Vivian's flushed cheeks and lowered gazes. Cupping Vivian's breasts in her hands, Mrs. Banks squeezed them gently and ran her fingers over the jutting nipples, making Vivian moan and tremble as a current of desire ran through her body. Her creamy thighs pressed together as the area between them suddenly felt extremely hot, the pressure increasing both her excitement and her pleasure. "This is part of what the Earl will value about you."

Such a comment only raised more questions in Vivian's head as Mrs. Banks removed her chemise and drawers, this time also removing Vivian's shoes and stockings so that she was completely nude. Would her husband touch her breasts and pinch her nipples? She remembered the large hands of Dr. Monroe, massaging her breasts, and she wondered if the Earl would do the same. Then she remembered the clamps and shuddered... they had pinched so horribly and yet her body had reacted with both pain and pleasure. Just like with the spankings. Would her future husband torment her nipples in the same way?

Did she want him to?

Mrs. Banks settled herself into the punishment chair, spreading her thighs to widen her lap. "Across my lap now, Miss Stafford."

Tonight Vivian draped herself over Mrs. Banks' legs without protest and the companion smiled to herself. The Earl was going to be very pleased with his future wife, and it would be accredited to her.

Caressing the creamy swells of Vivian's unblemished buttocks, Mrs. Banks focused her attention on the here and now; after all, a student such as Miss Stafford deserved her undivided attentions.

"Spread your legs further Miss Stafford," she directed. "And don't forget to point your toes inwards." Vivian tensed as she did so, obviously waiting the inevitable addition to her spanking. "I will not add to your punishment this evening, but if you do not spread your legs to my satisfaction tomorrow then you will increase the number of strokes you receive from the hairbrush." She continued to caress Vivian's bottom, fingers delving down very quickly to test the status of the young woman's arousal without giving her any pleasure. Damp, slightly swollen, pussy lips split apart by the positioning of her body. Soon her responses would associate all of this, the positioning and the punishments, with pleasure and respond with a sopping wet arousal that would delight the Earl.

Tonight Mrs. Banks decided to cover Vivian's entire bottom, the slaps coming down with slightly more force than the night before now that the young woman had a better idea of what to expect.

SLAP!

"OH!" Vivian cried out with surprise as Mrs. Banks' hand came down at the top of her right buttock, rather than directly in the center as it had the night before. The swat stung, but she barely had time to register its location before another landed just below where the first had.

SLAP! SMACK! SMACK!

The placement of Mrs. Banks' hand marched down the surface of Vivian's right flank, leaving a tinge of pink in its wake, contrasting rosily to the creamy left cheek. Vivian squirmed uncomfortably, although she didn't cry out again until Mrs. Banks' hand smacked against the more sensitive area just underneath her buttock in the crease between cheek and thigh. Then her head jerked back in surprise at how much more a spank there stung, although the pain transferred itself almost immediately to her excited core, which Mrs. Banks fingers brushed against before moving back up to the top of Vivian's rear.

SMACK! SLAP! SMACK!

Now her hand marched down the left side of Vivian's hindquarters, matching the pink glow of the right. Gripping the legs of the chair, Vivian squirmed even more. This was not nearly as painful a punishment as the night before when Mrs. Banks had landed each blow on the same spots over and over again. Instead, this spanking was causing an immediate reaction between her legs where she could feel herself becoming hotter and damper, her instinct being to close her thighs together and rub so that she could find that delicious pressure against the lips of her womanhood again.

At least, until Mrs. Banks reached that spot just underneath Vivian's cheek again. That smarted and she squirmed a little harder, a little blurt of surprised pain falling from her lips. Another brush of fingers against the dampening lips of her quim and then Mrs. Banks started over at the top of Vivian's right buttock.

The second round of spankings, on slightly more sensitive skin, brought a healthy pink flush to Vivian's creamy skin. Now that her bottom had been warmed up, Mrs. Banks was applying a bit more force with each slap, so that Vivian had to work a little harder to keep quiet as she received her punishment. And yet her body still responded with hot cream, seeping from the open lips of her pussy.

"OH!" Vivian cried out again as Mrs. Banks' hand came down hard against her crease. Why did that spot smart so much more than any other?! She had no time to contemplate the question before her left side was receiving its second line of hearty smacks.

Mrs. Banks hand along her back increased its pressure as Vivian's squirming continued, her hips wagging back and forth. It made the precision of slaps more difficult, and Mrs. Banks increased the force to compensate, which only increased the writhing of Vivian's body. When Mrs. Banks' hand came down on that sensitive crease again, Vivian broke position and her legs kicked out a little... mindful of the Earl's desire for a natural response, Mrs. Banks did not scold her.

Besides, the young lady would be kicking even more in a moment.

Panting, hot and wet between her thighs, Vivian spread her legs again, worried that Mrs. Banks would scold her for the little kicks -- although she suddenly realized that she hadn't been scolded the night before when she'd been much more active. It was only because Mrs. Banks had stopped that Vivian had immediately started worrying that she'd done something wrong. That quality was part of what would make Vivian such an excellent submissive wife to Lord Cranborne, something that Gabriel had instinctively responded to and been attracted by when he'd first met her. The desire, the need to please, in every aspect of her life.

"I have a new brush for you Miss Stafford," Mrs. Banks said, keeping one arm across Vivian's back as she reached into her pocket for the hairbrush that she'd brought with her. "I will take your old brush with me tonight and from now on you will use this brush only to brush your hair, and it will also be used for your punishments. First mistakes will be punished with my hand to your bare bottom, repeated mistakes will be reprimanded with the hairbrush and you will receive double the number that you had the first time."

"What if I make a mistake for a third time?" asked Vivian worriedly, turning her head to look up into Mrs. Banks' stern blue eyes. They softened slightly, even though Mrs. Banks frowned at her.

"Let us hope you never need to find out," said the companion, more to bolster Vivian's motivation than anything else. Fear of the unknown was a powerful tool and besides she hadn't decided yet. Quite possibly that would be the time to introduce the young woman to the crop or perhaps the tawse, or she would be taken back to Dr. Monroe for a punishment enema. But it would all depend on where Vivian was in the training when she did so; by the time she made a mistake for a third time she may have already experienced the sting of the crop or the cramping pains of a punishment enema and so a different form of discipline would introduced. It was best not to set up expectations, so that the training could remain flexible and the student kept on her toes.