Marriage Training Ch. 10

Author's Note: This is not meant to be read as a stand-alone, it's recommended that if you haven't read the previous chapters that you do so before reading this one.

Enjoy!

******

Monday morning Vivian woke with a whimper as she accidentally rolled onto her back, immediately shifting her position back to her side as the maid gently shook her shoulder. She groaned as the aches of her body made themselves known.

"Gently miss," the maid said, turning Vivian onto her stomach. "I've got some nice salve here from Dr. Monroe which should help you."

The humiliation of knowing that the maid knew exactly what was ailing Vivian was only somewhat soothed by the application of the cooling salve onto the hot flesh of her bottom. This was the first time that she'd woken with more than just a general sore ache and she knew from the gentle fingers of the maid and the woman's sympathetic comments that, for the first time, she had physical markings leftover from the punishment. Clutching at the pillow as the maid's fingers glided over a particularly painful welt, Vivian fervently wished she hadn't been so bold as to try and pleasure herself. It seemed that even after others had touched her there, her mother's strictures that a young lady never touched herself between her legs except as absolutely necessary still held true.

Only fear of the hairbrush on her already welted bottom spurred Vivian to meeting the other students on time. It was the closest she'd come to being late in days however. She'd wanted to see her bottom in the mirror and had been strangely fascinated by the criss-crossing welted pattern on her usually creamy skin. If the maid hadn't gotten her moving, she might have stood there for hours examining the markings and gingerly stroking them. Touching them reignited some of the heat and sting which made her body respond in ways that she certainly wasn't going to indulge, not now that she knew the awful punishment for it. She didn't even want to consider how Mrs. Banks might make something like a birching worse in the case of a second offense.

But she almost glowed with the approval that she saw in her companion's eyes when she arrived in the foray on time. That approval had to see her through the rest of the day, which was a rather uncomfortable one. While she'd noted that the carriage ride was not always easy to take after a particularly harsh spanking, today it was an especial torment. Fortunately the chairs and couches in the Practicum House were well cushioned, but even with the softest cushions she could still feel the delicate skin of her bottom rubbing against the fabric of her drawers. It teased and tormented, stinging and sparking... she stood as much as possible to give her body relief from the sore ache and the nettling burning as well as the subsequent kindling of her body's erotic need.

Still, she winced every time she saw Mrs. Banks writing in her notebook. The upcoming evening was haunting Vivian's mind every time she made the slightest mistake, whether it was dripping a tiny drop of gooseberry jam during tea or accidentally missing Lord and Lady Rathbourne from the invitations she wrote out, despite the fact that they were clearly on her list. While the slight touches of her poor bottom might awaken other desires, she couldn't imagine bearing a spanking on top of the injuries she already had.

Was such a harsh punishment something her future husband would actually want? And why was the heavy feeling of dread in her stomach interlaced with something very close to anticipatory excitement?

******

After a day at the Practicum, Mrs. Banks spent her dinnertime on her own rather than in the main dining room, working on her curriculum for Miss Stafford. Although, of course, there was a basic curriculum for each student, which had been modified to Miss Stafford in particular, there was always room for more modification and Mrs. Banks was a perfectionist. She liked to have the privacy and quiet of her room, as well as a good meal, to mull things over. A lot of what she would do this week had hinged on how well Vivian handled the Practicum today.

And she'd handled it very well indeed.

So well, in fact, that Mrs. Banks was beginning to become a bit worried. Mrs. Cunningham wanted Mrs. Banks to have more time with Miss Stafford before the Earl became a part of training, but he was remaining adamant on the subject. There was just one thing that was making the women worry about his inclusion in two weeks. They needed Vivian to rebel in some way before the Earl was introduced to her point of studies. The incident over the weekend hadn't exactly been a rebellion, although Vivian had probably realized that she was doing something unsanctioned... but she did not want Vivian's first rebellion and the subsequent consequences to happen after the Earl's inclusion. That would only cause friction between the couple, something which Mrs. Banks preferred to avoid.

The first instance of rebellion was always swiftly put down with a harsh and severe punishment. After that, the student always went either one of two ways: consistent rebellion until it had been demonstrated that the school was more stubborn than the student or a long period until the next rebellion. Either way, if the first time coincided with the inclusion of the Earl in Vivian's training, it would make it harder for them to bond in the way that they needed to. If Vivian were to react with subsequent immediate rebellions – a response which would truly surprise Mrs. Banks considering her natural inclinations – those would need to be dealt with beforehand as well. Although Mrs. Banks thought it much more likely that Vivian would rebel and then not do so again unless pushed.

But if that first rebellion didn't occur until after the Earl began to be part of her training, it could seriously damage building up the trust and submission that would need to be imparted to him. Which meant that Mrs. Banks was going to have to begin pushing Vivian this week. Not tonight, or even tomorrow... Vivian needed a chance to heal. But starting on Wednesday. They would skip the examination with Dr. Monroe, which would throw the young woman off... change the disciplinary instrument again... and oh yes.

Mrs. Banks' lips curved in an anticipatory smile that would have made Vivian shiver if she'd seen it. The companion knew exactly what she was going to do.

******

After dinner Vivian retreated immediately to her room. Not just because her bottom was sore and aching after sitting on the hard bench in the main dining hall, but because she had yet to really be able to examine what the formerly smooth cheeks of her bottom looked like. And she was craving some time to herself before the evening's punishment.

Stripping down to nothing but her chemise, she lifted the hem of the gossamer fabric and turned her backside to the mirror. Staring almost in awe at the pink streaks across the creamy expanse of her bottom, she held her chemise with one hand while she ran her other over the healing welts. They were slightly raised and sore to the touch, making her wince.

And yet that little bit of soreness, that reminder of the pain she'd endured the evening before, immediately made the area between her legs begin to tingle. She could feel that the lips of her private area were becoming wet as she touched and traced the ridges on her bottom. Little tremors shivered through her body in response to the delicate touch of her fingers.

Biting her lower lip, Vivian gave the side of her bottom a small smack, stifling the yelp. The immediate burn convinced her that tonight's discipline was going to be awful. The skin of her bottom, even that which was pale and normally colored, was ten times more sensitive than usual, and the one welt that she'd made contact with throbbed. How could she possibly stand it?

The growing wetness between her legs said that one part of her body didn't mind the idea.

Vivian was beginning to despair of that part of her body, however. It seemed to respond in the same way no matter the provocation. Of course she couldn't deny that the pleasure which followed her punishments was intensely satisfying, wonderfully rapturous, but it certainly didn't make the punishment that preceded it any less painful or easier to bear. It was just an inexplicable reaction.

The idea that her husband would want to do this to her was just as inexplicable. Wasn't it?

Or would it, inexplicably, cause in him a similar reaction to hers? But how could that be?

For the first time, Vivian wondered if Mrs. Banks received some kind of amorphous pleasure from the nightly punishment sessions. Although it might have had something to do with something Mrs. Banks had said when she was birching Vivian - that her husband would have the power over Vivian and her pain and pleasure.

Two emotions warred within her as she thought that over. It didn't seem fair that someone else would have such power over her body, and yet she couldn't deny that the very idea made her body tingle even more. Was there something wrong with her, she wondered, or were other women like this as well?

She jumped as the door behind her opened, spinning around guiltily with her hands in the air. Mrs. Banks stood in the doorway, her sharp blue eyes latching onto her student immediately. Vivian gulped, she hadn't realized how long she'd been standing in front of the mirror, examining herself and thinking.

"I wasn't... I wasn't..." Vivian stammered out as she dropped her chemise down, thin shield though it was. She blushed. "I just wanted to see..."

To her surprise Mrs. Banks gave her a reassuring smile. "I understand, that's perfectly natural."

Relieved that she hadn't garnered herself additional punishment, Vivian visibly sagged. Gratitude suffused her. She moved to pick up her dress, but Mrs. Banks stopped her.

"Sit in your punishment chair," she directed. "We'll go over your mistakes as you are."

Gingerly Vivian lowered herself onto the hard wooden seat, her poor bottom protesting and her anxiety ratcheted up as she wondered how she could possible handle another spanking on her poor, abused cheeks. Mrs. Banks smiled again, seeing that Vivian was already a bit confused by the change, especially as she had once been spanked for undressing before her lecture, but what Vivian needed to learn now was that someone else would set the rules. And Vivian would follow, even if the new rule contradicted a previous one.

Besides, she knew very well that the Earl would probably appreciate a sight such as this. The flimsy fabric of Vivian's chemise did nothing to obscure the pink of her nipples or the copper of her muff, the hem rested gently on her very upper thighs, leaving her legs basically completely uncovered. The innocent white fabric was both appealing in appearance and completely useless as a true cover.

As Mrs. Banks recited the list of transgressions, she watched as Vivian shifted back and forth uncomfortably in her seat. She knew that the young woman's welts must be pressing against the unforgiving wood, making it impossible for her to sit comfortably. And it invited the perfect opportunity to begin testing Vivian's submissiveness and attempting to provoke a more rebellious response. Not that she thought the young woman would respond as such today, but it would be the first of many building blocks towards that goal.

"And for constant fidgeting, two extra strokes." Mrs. Banks peered repressively at Vivian over her notes.

Shocked, Vivian immediately stilled, realizing that she was definitely guilty of the accused fidgeting. At the same time a protest surged through her and almost fell from her lips before she bit it back. While she was certainly guilty of fidgeting, she hadn't realized that anything she did now was something she could be punished for! If she had known she would have watched her movements better, it wasn't fair!

Still, the words died on her tongue when she saw the look in Mrs. Banks' sharp eyes and realized her companion was just waiting for Vivian to speak out against the extra discipline. That her companion could read her so well made Vivian shrink into herself a little bit before sitting back up straight. Her bottom was feeling increasingly sore the longer she sat on the hard seat.

After a long moment to ensure that Vivian wasn't going to protest, as Mrs. Banks had expected she wouldn't, she had the young woman stand and take off the chemise, leaving her body completely bare and vulnerable. The hardened nubs of her nipples belied her anxious looks and obvious reluctance to proceed with the discipline. The companion knew that if she tested Vivian's quim, she would find it slick and wet in anticipation.

Tying Vivian's wrists behind her back, the companion then gave her a surprising order. "Sit down."

Vivian was finding that there was nothing that she disliked more than a change to her routine. It was disconcerting and frightening. But she didn't protest. Instead she meekly sat down in the punishment chair, hissing as her bottom landed a little harder without her hands to help her do so.

Crossing around behind her, Mrs. Banks used a second length of silk to secure Vivian's bound wrists to the chair back. The position thrust the young woman's breasts forwards, rendering it extremely uncomfortable to try and hunch her shoulders. The rosy tips of her nipples pressed out even further, as if offering themselves up.

"Lovely," Mrs. Banks said as she circled around to Vivian's front.

The realization that she was tied to the punishment chair, with her bottom firmly planted on its seat, wound Vivian's anxiety up to almost unparalleled heights. She hadn't felt so vulnerable and uncertain since her very first examination under Dr. Monroe's untender care. The fear and uncertainty on Vivian's face only added to her erotic appeal, that kind of tremorous agitation was like an aphrodisiac to men of the Earl's character; Mrs. Banks recognized its worth. Vivian clung to her routine and anything out of the ordinary pushed at her, discomposed her. It was something that had been noted early on and was now being used.

Retrieving the small leather whip from her pocket, Mrs. Banks held it up in front of her so that Vivian could see the delicate creation. Not every nobleman using the school to train his wife desired such measures; many preferred their discipline to be focused upon a young woman's bottom. In such cases, with a freshly welted bottom like Vivian's, that usually meant that the next few days of punishment would be applied to backs of the young lady's thighs, a supremely sensitive area. That would have been the case for Vivian as well if it hadn't been for Mrs. Banks' need to push her charge into a rebellion sooner rather than later and for the Earl's preferences. She'd decided to use those preferences, and the instrument she currently held in her hand, to add pressure to her student.

The whip was made of soft leather strands, each about ten inches long, and had been provided by the Earl himself. Depending on how it was wielded, the strands could caress or sting. It was not a whip meant for a young woman's buttocks, which could take quite a bit of punishment without any ill effects, but for more delicate areas.

Vivian stared at the whip as if it were a many-headed snake, her mouth going dry as she tried to imagine what was about to happen.

"You have a total of twenty-eight strokes, so I will do fourteen on each side," Mrs. Banks said, shifting herself slightly so that she was well out of the way of Vivian's feet. While she didn't think the young woman would purposefully kick her, there was no telling how she might react to this change in punishment.

The whip slapped against Vivian's right breast as she drew in a shocked breath; the many strands snapping against tender skin. Most didn't truly hurt except for the strand that landed directly across her nipple, biting into the especially sensitive flesh and causing it to pucker even more.

"One."

Before Vivian had time to do more than gasp with the shock, another stroke landed across her breast. This time no strands hit her nipple, but instead landed on her puffy areola. The gasping cry and Vivian's arched back as she tried to escape this strange new area of pain only made it seem as though she was thrusting her breast out to ask for more.

"Two."

Stroke after stroke of the whip snapped against her skin, placing another layer of impact... and with each layer the painful sensation grew. Her skin pinkened, becoming more sensitive as the soft strands of the whip bit into it. Every time a strand licked across her poor nipple she cried out. The blows were not nearly as hard as the ones Mrs. Banks applied to her poor bottom, but they stung and burned in a completely different way.

To add to her distress, the inevitable squirming was inflaming the welts across her buttocks, adding to the sting and making it seem as though the erotic pain was flowing into her from more than one direction.

"Eight."

Vivian whimpered. The accumulated strokes were taking their toll; her whole breast felt like it was on fire, her nipple the hot center. She was almost ready to beg Mrs. Banks to stop, but at the same time she knew such a plea was useless... and she was too afraid that Mrs. Banks might switch her assault to Vivian's bottom which was already sore from the hard seat of the chair and her incessant squirming. Every time leather snapped across her nipple her legs would kick out in front of her, which only put more weight on her poor cheeks.

When Mrs. Banks reached ten she paused for a moment, and Vivian lifted her tear-filled green eyes in hopes of a reprieve. Instead the companion stepped forward, a cool and neutral expression on her face, and pinched Vivian's tender nipple between her fingers.

"Ouch! Mrs. Banks... oh please!!!"

Using the tiny nubbin, which had turned a reddish color rather than its normal pale pink hue under the lash of the whip, Mrs. Banks lifted the curve of Vivian's breast. Her fingers' tight grip on the tiny bud sent shock waves of alternating pain and pleasure through Vivian's body, making her gasp and thrust her breasts forward again in hopes of relieving the pressure. She could feel the heavy mound of her breast lifting - for what purpose she couldn't imagine but was about to discover.

Careful to avoid hitting Vivian's thigh, Mrs. Banks flicked her wrist and the strands of the whip snapped upwards against the sensitive underside of her breast. It was the one part of her breast which, till this point, had gone largely unmarked.

"Eleven."

With a yelp, Vivian's head fell backwards, her eyes closing as the whip stung her anew. It was only four lashes to that tender underside, her nipple throbbing in the tight confines of Mrs. Banks' fingers, before the companion dropped her breast and allowed it to wobble back into its normal place.

Two tears trickled down Vivian's cheeks, one on each side, and splashed down to her chest, over her breasts. One was unmarked, creamy with a pink nipple of pale rose, the other was streaked with lines of pink and the nipple was darkened and angry looking. It looked and felt like a ripe cherry about to burst.

She moaned as Mrs. Banks switched sides.

The strands lifted, flew threw the air, and snapped against tender unmarked flesh. The new sting and added burden had the tears beginning to flow down Vivian's cheeks to land on her tormented breasts. The dance began all over again, her flesh jiggling, her bottom pressing against the unforgiving seat, her legs kicking as her formerly untouched nipple was lashed and ripened. Throughout, Mrs. Banks voice intoned after each stroke, counting her way to ten.

The pinch and lift of her nipple was almost welcome, a kind of marker for the last stretch of her punishment.