Marriage Training Ch. 09

Author's Note: This series is meant to be read in order and not as a standalone - if you haven't read the previous chapters it is suggested that you go back to Chapter 1 and start from there. Enjoy!

******

Sunlight, rather than the maid, woke Vivian. For a moment she felt panicked and sat bolt upright, thinking that she was late for the Practicum and that Mrs. Banks would be using the dreaded hairbrush on her that evening, and then she remembered that it was Saturday and she did not need to worry about the Practicum. How very strange. Falling back onto her pillow she let her pounding heart slow as she wondered why the teachers allowed them to have two days off from the Practicum. After all, once the students were married and had their own households to run they would not receive any such break from their duties.

Then again, they would be able to dictate for themselves when they could rest. Even the most social of the ton had days when they stayed in and were not 'at home' to visitors. That was not an option for the students, of course, as their schedules were dictated by the school and their companions.

Whatever the reason, Vivian relished the extra sleep that she had gotten and the knowledge that today she did not need to worry about mistakes or a nightly punishment. The strangest emotion went through her at that thought, something almost like regret, and she frowned. How silly. Of course she was looking forward to an evening without a spanking.

Deciding that it would be a waste to spend the day in bed, no matter how delightful the idea seemed, Vivian forced herself to get up and ring for the maid.

An hour later, her face and neck scrubbed, fiery copper tresses pinned in place, and wearing a mint green day dress, Vivian went to break her fast. The main dining room was mostly empty; she had slept past the time when the majority of the school had already gone to bed. As she sat eating her eggs and kippers, Mrs. Banks walked into the room and headed straight for her. Vivian smiled and stood as her companion approached, brushing the wrinkles from her skirt.

The green highlighted her complexion very nicely, making her look every inch a demure young woman. No one looking at her would ever guess that she spent her evenings being spanked for mistakes made during the day or that she would secretly even enjoy such a thing. Not all of it, of course, but some of it. Especially the writhing pleasure that Mrs. Banks would bring to her following it. Although Vivian no longer blushed when she looked at her companion, she had become used to pushing her activities in the evening from her mind during the day.

"Good morning Mrs. Banks."

"Good morning Miss Stafford, I trust you slept well?"

"Very well, thank you Mrs. Banks."

"I have some mail for you," Mrs. Banks said, handing over the letters she was holding. One was quite large and the other much smaller. Vivian's green eyes lit up as she recognized the seal on the larger one - it was a packet of letters from her family. Seeing her charge's excitement, Mrs. Banks smiled warmly at her. "Enjoy your day off, Miss Stafford. And don't forget what I said about studying with the other girls."

"Thank you Mrs. Banks," Vivian said with a small curtsy, eager to read her family's letters although she reigned in her impatience as she did not want to be rude.

As soon as the companion turned and walked away, Vivian sat down eagerly; she put the smaller envelope to the side as she ripped open the larger, bulkier one. Several letters tumbled out, all from different members of her family. She reached for the one with the heavier, blockier handwriting first, recognizing it as her father's.

Homesickness welled over Vivian as she read through the letters. It was always harder when she heard from all the members of her family, but at the same time she could tell that things had become even better for them since she began her marriage training. Was it a coincidence or not?

While her father and mother were circumspect and didn't come out and say that financially their lives had improved yet again, she could tell anyway from the description of their activities and their talk about getting her brother Alastair ready for Eton. His letter and her youngest sister's, Rose's, were the shortest, both talking of the new ponies that they'd gotten. Persephone's letter was the most revealing, as she had always been the most outspoken of the Baron's daughters and was old enough to realize that something had changed. Vivian wondered if her father had read Persephone's letter before sending it, because she was quite forthright in describing the various changes around the household.

The ponies are the least of it; it seems as though every week Father is bringing home a new toy for Alastair and Mother took Rose and I to the seamstress this week and ordered us entirely new wardrobes! After so many years of wearing your cast offs I must admit it felt wonderful to be measured for my own dresses and be able to choose the colors and styles. The library is filled with books again, all the empty shelves replenished, and Mother's wearing her emeralds again. I must admit, I didn't even notice they were gone for so long until she was suddenly wearing them again; her fingers stroke the necklace constantly, as if she's afraid they might disappear as suddenly as they returned.

Father does not say much about where such a windfall comes from, but he has mentioned that your future husband's generosity is partly to thank. I was surprised that you have not written me of your betrothal, but I suppose you must be very busy with your studies. I hope that perhaps next year I might be able to go to Mrs. Cunningham's if an Earl is the type of husband one can expect at the end of it! When you are able to write you must tell me more about your studies and your future husband!

Love,

Persephone

Vivian sighed as she put down her sister's letter, fingers sliding over the elegant script. Would her parents send Persephone to Mrs. Cunningham's as well? If so, she hoped that she would be one of the regular girls and not like Vivian. She couldn't see her sister allowing anyone to spank her; out of the three sisters Persephone had always been the leader, the loud one, the instigator. Vivian was the good child, the example, the perfect lady. So far Rose hadn't shown what kind of woman she'd be, she was so quiet that one might think she had nothing to say, but in actuality was quite intelligent and just preferred listening to others for all the things she might learn. When she did speak, she often rendered others speechless.

The letter had also reminded Vivian how very little she knew about the Earl. How on earth could she respond to Persephone when she could barely remember meeting the man and still had no idea why he had chosen her as his wife? Anything she might be able to tell Persephone, her sister already knew. Obviously he was wealthy and generous - to her family at least. He wanted his wife trained in her household duties as well as the things that were done to her at night, and according to Mrs. Banks he would spank her as a punishment when he deemed it necessary. That was certainly not something she could share with her sister. Neither could she tell her sister about the incredible climaxes or the humiliating exams.

So what could she say?

As she pondered the question, her eyes fell upon the smaller letter that Mrs. Banks had handed to her. Curious, she picked it up. She didn't recognize the seal in the red wax or the sharp, bold handwriting that had written out her name and the school's address. The frank mark was from London.

There was only one person she could think of that might write her here, and she found herself filled with a wild hope that her suspicion was correct, curiosity and a sense of trepidation. Voices at the entrance to the room made her look up. Some students were coming in for an early lunch, laughing and joking with each other. Feeling a sudden need for privacy, Vivian gathered up the letters from her family and put them back into their envelope before she stood again, tucking the letter that she supposed to be from the Earl in along with the others, before exiting the dining room.

******

Since it was a lovely day out, and Vivian had always felt quite comfortable outdoors, she escaped into the sunshine in search of a place to read. Avoiding the gardens, which were full of young ladies strolling about, Vivian walked down to the trees near the pond, settling herself in at the base of a trunk so that she could enjoy the warm air without having the sun touch her skin.

Pulling the letter back out of the envelope, she studied the seal it had been closed with. The imprint in the red wax was quite crisp, showing the outline of a rearing stag with very threatening looking antlers. Vivian ran her finger over the bumpy surface before bringing the letter to her nose to see if any scent clung to the paper. Perhaps the faintest whiff of something, but nothing that she could define.

Carefully she pulled the seal upwards, making sure to keep it intact. When she was younger she used to collect the more interesting seals from letters that her parents received. The collection was still in her room at home. She would add this one to it after she finished her time at Mrs. Cunningham's School.

Her breath caught in her throat as she opened the letter and the signature jumped out at her. The letter itself was quite brief and to the point, certainly nothing that should make her feel strangely excited and anxious, but that was her reaction.

My dear Vivian,

I hope you do not mind my familiarity, but as we are to be wed I see no reason to stand on ceremony in something as simple as a letter's salutation. Due to the school's regulations we will not be able to meet again until next month, but I assure you that I eagerly anticipate the day. Indeed, I have thought of you very often since we first met at your cousin's wedding and I found myself too impatient to wait another month before having any contact with you at all, considering our impending nuptials. Mrs. Banks has written me that you excel at, and show a natural aptitude for, your studies, all of which makes me even more anxious to see you again. I look forward to our next meeting, and in the meantime will continue to think of you and render what assistance I can to your family so that you may rest assured of their well-being during your time at school.

Yours With Great Affection,

Gabriel Cecil Earl of Cranborne

She read the letter five times in a row before she rested it on her lap, her thoughts whirling. It wasn't the most romantic letter she'd ever read and yet it set her heart fluttering. Vainly she tried to remember more of the Earl, but all she could recollect was the impression of a man with dark hair. A man who was older than her and she'd been too excited by the day to focus on any of the details about him. But apparently he remembered her.

Well enough to want to marry her.

The thought was a little frightening. What if it turned out she didn't measure up to his memory or his expectations? What would that mean for her family? Biting her lip, Vivian re-read the letter for a sixth time. It seemed to imply that he would meet her next month. Then she would finally have a face to set to her fantasies.

Vivian spent the early afternoon with the other students involved in the Practicum. They compared notes and gave each other suggestions, something that they hadn't done during the week because by the time they were eating dinner together they wanted to think about anything other than their activities during the day. She found herself listening more than giving advice, but was content with that as she knew the others were coming to the Practicum with more hands-on experience than herself.

During the latter part of the afternoon she retreated to the library. At first she'd tried to read the latest Gothic novel by Mrs. Radcliffe, thinking to read something exciting and silly, but her mind kept wandering at the description of the hero with his dark hair and smoldering eyes. Eventually she put the book down and found a history on the Roman Empire, a time period that she'd always been interested in, and engaged her mind in that instead. Without classes and the Practicum the hours seemed to drag by.

It wasn't until after dinner that she realized she was feeling almost despondent over the lack of a disciplinary session that evening. Instead her time just stretched on until she retired, leaving her feeling restless and unsatisfied. The change in her routine combined with the lack of an orgasm before bedtime meant an uneasy night. She was full of energy that she hadn't expended and her body had become used to achieving a satisfying climax before sleeping.

The sensation was akin to an itch that she couldn't scratch. Rubbing her thighs together only provided so much relief to her loins. When she finally fell into an uneasy slumber her dreams were filled with fleeting erotic images; herself bent over Mrs. Banks' lap, herself bent over an unknown man's lap, Dr. Monroe sliding various instruments into the openings of her body, the hot burning between her legs and on her bottom that a spanking produced... in her dreams the spankings weren't painful at all. All they did was arouse her.

She woke the next morning feeling tired and cranky. When the maid helped her dress it was all Vivian could do to keep from moaning as the silk slid against her breasts and nipples, the little buds turning hard and achy. The whisper of fabric between her legs just made her want to rub her thighs together some more, even though she already knew it was useless. Perhaps it wasn't that she needed the spanking so much as she needed the release that always followed it, but right now she almost felt as if she would welcome either.

What had happened to her body to make her this way? Had her marital training already changed her so much? Was this what it meant to be a woman and a wife instead of a miss?

Frustrated and physically restless, after the Sunday church service Vivian summoned the maid again and changed into her riding clothes. She was a decent rider and she spent the afternoon trying to work off the excess energy that came from her sexual frustration. Of course, she didn't know what that was, only that her body itched and throbbed. Riding didn't truly help, however, as the side saddle rubbed her almost where she wanted to be touched, but not quite. The sensations that her rocking motions and near contact with the saddle in the location of her most sensitive areas were driving her quite wild.

Her preoccupation was such that she had no idea her every move was being watched and reported.

******

Mrs. Cunningham tapped her ink pen against her desk. "She's quite remarkable really, to have held out for this long. Or perhaps it's a lack of creativity on her part."

"Miss Stafford has already proved herself to be rather remarkable in many ways," Mrs. Banks said with a smile. "Personally I thought going riding for the afternoon was inspired."

"It would be more useful to her if she could ride like a man," Mrs. Cunningham said. "She looked quite frustrated when she came in." The ladies had spent the last hour discussing Miss Stafford's training and their plans for her this week. Of course that partially depended on the student herself, and whether she would react to the lack of stimulation over the weekend the way so many other young women in her position had.

Only one or two others had ever gone through the weekend without trying to bring themselves to climax, as Mrs. Cunningham remembered, and neither of them had been as sexually responsive as Miss Stafford. Indeed, both of those young women had needed extra training in order to awaken their bodies to sexual pleasures. She had personally bet upon Miss Stafford reaching her limit sometime yesterday. In fact, she'd taken part of the watch on Miss Stafford's room last night, sure that the young woman would try to touch herself before bed, but no matter how restless Miss Stafford had become, she had not attempted to indulge.

"Molly is watching her now," Mrs. Banks said. "We shall know soon enough."

******

After dinner Vivian went back to the privacy of her own room, not having the patience to interact with the other young ladies of the school. She knew very well that she wasn't fit for company, not when she could barely concentrate on what anyone around her was saying and all she wanted was to get through the day and to tomorrow evening when her normal routine would commence.

Normal since she'd started her Marriage Training that is.

Knowing that she wouldn't be rejoining the other students, Vivian called in the maid and stripped out of her clothes as quickly as possible. She allowed the maid to dress her in a night rail, but as soon as the maid left the room she stripped that off too. Her skin felt so incredibly sensitive that she couldn't stand having even the lightest touch of fabric against it.

How strange, that a few months ago she would have never considered doing something like being completely nude in her room. Now she felt slightly embarrassed and her body tingled as if someone was watching her, she kept an ear out for any kind of footfalls indicating someone coming to her door, but despite all of that she still wanted the clothing off. Even with her reservations, it surprised her to think how much she had changed in such a short period of time.

Only it didn't feel like changing. It felt like undressing, casting off the parts of her that others had covered her with and embracing her true desires.

And right now she desired to be nude.

Yet she still couldn't escape the heated arousal of her body. Her nipples were hard in the cool night air, her core felt empty and aching, and her slick feminine lips slid against each other as she walked. Lying down on the bed, on her back, she spread her legs open, moaning a little as the moist, hot flesh met the coolness of the air. With her hair spread out on the white pillow like a scarlet flame, Vivian had no idea how appealingly, innocently erotic she appeared.

The watcher in the other room stared rather entranced at her long, creamy limbs, that dark copper flash at the junction of her legs, and the pale pink of her nipples and inner cunt lips, bedewed with moisture. Cupping her breasts, Vivian rubbed her fingers over her nipples and gasped. It felt almost as good as when Mrs. Banks had done it. Behind the peephole, her silent watcher stiffened, wondering if she should run and fetch the girl's companion now or wait to be sure.

Looking down at her stiff nipples, Vivian pinched the little buds between her fingers, the expression on her face one of wonderment. She had become so accustomed to her body being manipulated by someone else that she hadn't even though of trying it on her own; although she knew her own ignorance and innocence was to blame she couldn't help but feel a bit foolish for never having considered trying to touch herself in the way that Mrs. Banks had. But then again, why would she? Until a couple of weeks ago she had no idea that these areas of her body could bring her pleasure. A dim memory from childhood of her mother admonishing her not to touch herself between her legs rose - and now Vivian finally understood what her mother didn't want her to do...

But why not? What harm could it have? Unless it might somehow divest her of her innocence, she supposed. She knew that a bride's innocence was of utmost importance to her groom, although she still wasn't entirely sure what "innocence" referred to or how one might lose it. Had she already lost it?

Surely the school wouldn't rid her of her innocence before her wedding, Vivian thought, which meant that she should be able to touch herself in the same way that Mrs. Banks did without causing any undue damage to her person. Dr. Monroe had emphasized that her maidenhead must be kept intact, she knew that it was located somewhere in her womanhood and she worried for a moment, but as long as she mimicked what Mrs. Banks did to her then no harm could come of that.