Marriage Training Ch. 09

Vivian's hand slid slowly down her stomach and over the wiry curls of her mound, exploring this new area that she had always ignored other than during her private business. She gasped as she found that sensitive little scrap of flesh that Mrs. Banks always teased and rubbed. It was dry, but it still felt good to run her fingers gently over it.

In the other room, the watcher quickly pulled away from the peephole and went running.

Letting her fingers slip between the soft lips of her womanhood, Vivian found the area very wet and slick. It felt strange to her fingers, but her body craved the contact and so she continued to explore the various crevices, moaning softly as she inadvertently teased herself. Curving her fingers, she scooped moisture up to the sensitive nub of her clitoris and her hips bucked as that added moisture made pleasure flare inside of her.

Closing her eyes, she spread her legs further to give herself better access to this fascinating portion of her body. Her fingers made little circles around that tender spot as her breathing increased, breasts heaving as she touched herself and began to walk her own pathway to pleasure.

When the door to her bedroom slammed open it was a shock, followed swiftly by embarrassment and horror as Mrs. Banks glared at her from the doorway. Vivian's body had folded up so that she was seated upright, her hands still between her legs, covering her quivering flesh. Her cheeks were still flushed from the sexual excitement she'd roused herself to. She was a picture of guilty pleasure, one which Mrs. Banks had been waiting to see all day.

After so much stimulation during the week, it would have been shocking if Vivian had not tried to explore on her own during the absence of such pleasure over the weekend. Which is why a close watch was always kept on the scholarship students in the case where their future husband preferred that they not be allowed self-pleasure. The Earl wanted complete control over Vivian's pleasure and Mrs. Cunningham had found it more effective, over the years, if students were allowed to begin to explore and then be caught and punished rather than giving them the idea by warning them against it and then having them sneak around to try it. The shock of being caught and the immediate reinforcement that their activities were not condoned worked as a much stronger preventive measure for the future.

"M-m-m-mrs. Banks!" Vivian stammered out. Huddled on the bed she knew that she couldn't hide her nakedness, and yet her first instinct was to dive under the covers.

Before she could even make the attempt Mrs. Banks was standing at the bedside, arms crossed over her chest, with the coldest and most forbidding look on her usually attractive face. The blue of her eyes suddenly reminded Vivian of the iciness of Dr. Monroe's, when she was used to seeing Mrs. Banks' eyes warm or at least neutral.

"Show me your hands," Mrs. Banks ordered, in a voice that had Vivian trembling.

Reluctantly she held out her hands, drawing her legs up closer to her body as she could curl in on herself and disappear. The glossy wetness on her fingertips were obvious evidence of how she had been touching herself.

"This is unacceptable Miss Stafford," Mrs. Banks said. She looked down at the quivering girl and felt a slight hint of pity, but she knew that this was necessary. It would make things easier on Vivian in the end if she accepted immediately that she should not touch herself, that her pleasure did not belong to her. The punishment would also provide a useful barometer for how much pain the young woman would find pleasurable. "You must never touch yourself in such a manner without the express permission of your future husband."

"I-I-I'm sorry I didn't know!"

Despite her ignorance, Vivian felt horrified at having transgressed. She felt that deep down she should have realized that it was not a permissible activity, after all she'd had to talk herself into even trying.

The look that Mrs. Banks gave her now held a tinge of sympathy. "I realize that Miss Stafford, but unfortunately you still have to be punished for it, and it's a rather severe punishment. As I've told you, your body now belongs to your husband. It is for him to bring you pleasure or discipline, and you should have never made the attempt on your own."

"Please Mrs. Banks, I won't do it again," she begged, angling her body towards the companion as she pleaded.

Mrs. Banks shook her head. "No, Miss Stafford, you won't. Now lie on your stomach." The companion had Vivian lift her hips so that she could place two pillows beneath the anxious young woman. Immediately Vivian realized how the pillows helped to lift her body, as if offering up the curves of her buttocks for punishment. She felt tears spark in her eyes at the cool way Mrs. Banks directed her to place her wrists together above her head.

The disappointment of her companion bit at her. Vivian would much rather face the dreaded hairbrush than this amount of censure from Mrs. Banks!

The position of her body, with her wrists bound together above her head and then tied to her headboard, her bottom thrust upwards due to the pillows, made her feel especially vulnerable. The tips of her breasts were pressed against the bed sheets, rubbing in a way that felt rather pleasant, but she was too anxious over this new position for punishment and her disappointment in herself to be able to enjoy it.

Mrs. Banks looked approvingly at her young charge, the pale expanse of creamy skin that had been laid out for her. Unlike previous nights, during which the spankings had reddened Vivian's bottom without having visible lingering effects in the morning - although of course some soreness had remained - tonight's punishment would certainly leave marks. It was part of why her punishment schedule was set the way it was; this week Vivian's evening discipline sessions would be changed so as not to overtax her bottom.

"Spread your legs wide Miss Stafford. Wider. Wider."

The young woman groaned as she felt her body become completely exposed, her puffy slit opening to reveal its dewy pink center. Even her anxiety and distress hadn't been able to completely dampen her arousal. Mrs. Banks could clearly see the darkening of the copper curls where they had become wet, the slick inner lips, and the tiny nub of Vivian's clitoris peeking out from its hood. The position allowed for an explicit view of Vivian's charms, although of course the main reason for spreading the young woman's legs was to ensure that she could not easily tighten the muscles of her buttocks. It would remain lax and soft, ready for punishment.

Feeling the loop of rope tightening about one of her ankles, Vivian gasped and tried to pull her leg away, earning a sharp slap to her inner thigh for her pains.

"Hold still Miss Stafford, this will be much easier on you if I tie you into place."

"Please Mrs. Banks, I won't move," Vivian pleaded, her wrists tugging at the bindings around them. She'd grown accustomed to having her hands bound during a punishment, but the idea of having all four of her limbs secured in place frightened her as much as it excited her. The last time she'd been so restrained had been during her examination, leaving her completely helpless to whatever Mrs. Banks and Dr. Monroe had wanted to do to her body.

Now she began to fear that something more awful than the hairbrush was in store for her - after all, she had never needed to be tied down for that! Or was this part of her punishment as well. A few fearful tears trickled down her cheeks and onto the soft mattress beneath her as Mrs. Banks secured her other leg, leaving her bound and spread open in the shape of a Y on the bed, her bottom high in the air and ready for its punishment.

Going back to the door, Mrs. Banks fetched the birch that she had left outside of it. It was the least severe of the birches and canes that were kept on hand for dealing with household staff discipline. The students were not punished with such implements, as they all had higher rank than the staff, but like most well-run households it was common to use a birch or cane when a maid seriously transgressed, rather than going to the trouble of hiring and training a new one. Most of the ton's households were run in a similar manner, although discipline was often handled by the housekeeper or butler rather than the master or mistress of the household.

This particular birch had been used the evening before on a maid who had snuck out to meet a man and was caught when she tried to sneak back in. That kind of behavior was not tolerated in any household, but especially not at Mrs. Cunningham's Finishing School. There were too many impressionable young ladies about. The maid in question had spent the day with red eyes and a red and welted bottom that she wouldn't be able to sit down on for about a week.

Mrs. Banks wasn't going to be nearly as harsh with Vivian, as this was her first birching, but she was certainly going to make an impression on the young woman's backside. This particular point was too important. It was in human nature to try and find a way to rely on oneself, especially for something as personal as sexual pleasure. Vivian must learn to control those urges and to rely on others, specifically her husband, for such satisfaction. Which meant that the consequences for not doing so must be shown to be harsh and immediate.

Later Vivian would wonder how Mrs. Banks knew to enter the room at that time and it would color all subsequent temptations. She would realize that there was no guarantee that she was not being watched and that she would risk being caught and punished if she were ever to make such an attempt again.

"Because this is your first time with a birch, I will only be giving you a count of fifteen strokes," said Mrs. Banks. Standing slightly behind Vivian so that she couldn't be seen, and neither could the fearful instrument, only heightened the young woman's anxiety. "If you are caught touching your pussy or seeking to pleasure yourself again, it will be a count of thirty."

Trying to gulp down her sobs, Vivian tugged at the bindings on her wrists, the muscles in her buttocks vainly trying to clench against the upcoming punishment. "Please Mrs. Banks! I didn't know! I won't do it again!"

She squealed, high-pitched, as the birch rod came down across the swell of her buttocks. It hurt so, so much more than the hairbrush, although at least half of her yelp was due to the surprise. Another swish and the branches crashed down across her tender globes, some striking new territory, others crossing the pink streaks that were already appearing on her creamy skin.

More than the actual pain, her fear of the birch was causing her to sob and cry as she stopped struggling and lay across the bed, accepting her punishment. It wasn't as if she had a choice anyway, with the bindings on her wrists and ankles. The skin of her bottom burned as the branches swished and struck, stinging her soft skin and leaving raised marks in tracks across the formerly pristine expanse.

Mrs. Banks was careful to only bring the birch down on Vivian's bottom, staying away from her lower back and thighs... leaving the option open to spank her thighs this week, since her bottom would be out of commission for the next few days. Unlike the previous punishments that Vivian had received, the physical marks of this punishment would linger over the next few days as more than just a faint soreness in the muscles. Indeed, Vivian's skin was showing beautiful, turning dark pink where the branches of the birch crossed previous welts.

Even more telling, from her position by Vivian's lower side, Mrs. Banks could see the glossy pink interior of Vivian's cunt which was already dripping copious amounts of cream even as she wept. The higher level of pain didn't seem to affect Vivian's arousal at all, other than to encourage it.

She was naturally a masochist, and the training that she'd received thus far had only served to further solidify the alliance between pain and pleasure in her mind and body. It was not the intent of the school to harm, but to open new avenues of bliss and erotic satisfaction. Vivian, already having a natural inclination to the heady mixture, was responding quickly and naturally to this stimulation. Although it did nothing to help ease the pain or her sobs of fear and torment, her body responded with sexual anticipation and desire, even more so that it would have without the night spankings and orgasms that she had been subjected to.

Every pink welt caused her insides to clench, although she was unaware of it, and more fluid to gather on the pink petals of her inner lips. Her nipples rubbed against the sheets beneath her as she bucked against her bonds, not struggling, but unable to remain still as the birch stung and bit at her tender flesh. The buzzing pain had her pleading and promising never to touch herself again.

Of course she had no way of knowing that this was more than mere punishment, it was a test of how far her training had come and how far it could still go. Mrs. Banks now knew that the pathways of pain and pleasure had joined in Vivian's body, that the sexualized punishment would only arouse her further, despite the severity of it. From this point they could continue the training without conditioning her to the spankings, they could explore her limits and boundaries, and her body would continue to respond with eager desire, despite the severity of the birch or strap or whatever other instrument they might punish her with.

Laying the last stroke diagonally across Vivian's pink and welted buttocks, Mrs. Banks murmured soothing, comforting words to the sobbing young woman, laying the birch down on the bed beside her and placing her hand on Vivian's inner thigh.

"Oh!" She gasped through her tears as Mrs. Banks' fingers rubbed against her slick folds.

Up until this point Vivian had been so engrossed in the stinging, throbbing pain of her poor, welted backside that she hadn't realized her body had responded in any other way. The press of Mrs. Banks' fingers against wet flesh and the surging erotic response in her belly was a shock to the young woman. While she'd become accustomed to feeling pleasure after a spanking, this punishment had been much harsher.

"Very good, Vivian," Mrs. Banks said, spreading the slick moisture around the young woman's clit, watching as Vivian's bottom tilted upwards as she gasped and shuddered. "Your body loves to be punished. Your husband will be very pleased."

"But why?!" Vivian asked, her voice high and almost frightened in her confusion. The stroking of her sensitive folds felt so good, and yet she could still feel the burning torment of her chastised bottom, as if the very skin was on fire. How could she be feeling two such diverse sensations at the same time? And why would her future husband ben pleased by this strange reaction?

"Because Vivian, sometimes he will want you to enjoy your punishments," Mrs. Banks explained, one of her fingers sliding into the young woman's tight sheathe. "He will enjoy seeing how wet and aroused you become after he punishes you. Your pleasure and your pain will belong to him."

It didn't make any sense to Vivian but she was already too far gone into desperately needing her climax to care. The pleasure was overcoming the pain, her body craving the release it had become accustomed to, the desire that had driven her to touch herself was welling up inside of her again. Vivian's pink-streaked cheeks rose and fell, rubbing herself against Mrs. Banks' fingers, tightening around the older woman's single digit as it probed her inner muscles.

"Oh please!" she cried out, arching, as Mrs. Banks' thumb pressed her little button.

The companion laid her free hand across Vivian's bottom, searing heat lancing through the younger woman, a fresh bite of pain sinking into her and sending her surging into violent orgasm. She screamed with the exquisite burn as her body spasmed, her limbs tugging at her restraints as she rode Mrs. Banks' fingers to higher and higher levels of ecstasy. The rubbing hand over the afflicted areas of her buttocks sent pulsing veins of distress through the throes of ecstasy, sharp sensations which melded and bubbled in the waves of her climax.

She sobbed fresh tears, of overwhelmed rapture, as her clitoris was rubbed and pressed, until she slumped, all of the tension drained from her. Every part of her seemed to tingle and quiver; she whimpered as she felt the finger inside of her withdraw from her aching pussy.

As the pleasure receded and Mrs. Banks began to undo her bindings, Vivian could already feel the black edges of sleep drawing closer, exhaustion making her limbs heavy despite the deep ache of her welted backside. She was barely aware of Mrs. Banks smoothing a balm over the skin of her blistered bottom; it would help her to heal and allow her to sleep, although she would still feel and see the aftereffects of her punishment in the morning.

Mrs. Banks tucked her charge in, wiping away the tear tracks on Vivian's face with a handkerchief that she kept tucked in her pocket. A feeling of pride swelled in the older woman's breast. Her student had handled the punishment very well, she was right on track as far as the school's curriculum was concerned. And the Earl would be very pleased that his future bride's inclinations were so in line with his own.

At this point in the training there was always the possibility that the young woman was not ready for, and perhaps had no natural inclination, towards enjoying the harsher punishments. Then a discussion must be had to either find the young woman a new husband whose tastes did not run quite so severe or taking more time to accustom her to the training if she showed some natural inclination but was not ready for this portion of the training yet. Vivian not only had the natural inclination, she was obviously more than ready to move forward with her training and be introduced to the full array of disciplinary measures to which her husband would enjoy with her.

The Earl of Cranborne would be very pleased with the report that Mrs. Banks was going to write this evening. Very pleased indeed.