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Sophie was at her wits end with her stepdaughter Libby. Her husband, Libby's father, had died in a car crash leaving them well provided for rattling around together in a palatial home that was empty and cold without him. Libby had slipped into bad company and was drinking too much and who knew what else. It would be understandable being resented, if she had tried to take her mothers place, but Sophie had tried hard not to give that impression. Rather she attempted to be a friend rather than step mom. Being just eight years older than the girl it was difficult to take control although she had to admit it wasn't in her nature to be the one in charge. Her daughter took after her father, in a word, domineering. This uncomfortable situation demanded drastic action and so an arrangement had been made, somewhat reluctantly, to have the young woman taught self discipline for her own good. A friend of a friend had put her in contact with someone experienced in dealing with wilful teenagers of wealthy parents. The man had agreed to take on the task of taming her even though she was out of the usual age group at twenty years old.
A one-page synopsis of the problem behaviour had been emailed to the trainer, as he called himself, and with that she felt somewhat relieved that someone else was taking over the problem. The arrangement was easily kept secret from Libby as they hardly ever spoke except when she demanded money. The trainer had emailed back with instructions not to warn the girl of the arrangement. Any day now he would call and spirit her away leaving Sophie with a few weeks of peace. The expected awkward confrontation bothered her until reassured it would all happen while she was out of the house. It all seemed so cloak and dagger and adventurous, as well as it being revenge at last, leaving Sophie with a thrilling sense of anticipation.
Saturday morning and Libby hadn't arrived home from a Friday night party, leaving the large sprawling house quiet and peaceful. Sophie had determined to make friends in the area so had joined a tennis club and was looking forward to the first lesson. Not wanting to be home when the young tormentor finally arrived she quickly dressed in tennis whites ready to go. A white blouse, short white pleated skirt, ankle socks and white trainers completed the outfit. Smart, perhaps a little too neat, but it reminded her of lazy carefree school days.
The front door bell rang. Dropping the sports bag she dragged reluctant feet to the door expecting an ugly confrontation with Libby. The sun streamed into the oval atrium blinding her yet she could see from the dark outline of a large built man it wasn't Libby. An authoritative voice asked, "Libby?" Sophie inwardly groaned wondering what trouble the little terror had caused now. It was useless to deny she lived there for they would merely return later.
"Yes?" The one word was all she managed to say.
The man pointed to something behind her asking, "What's that?" She turned to look and was confused seeing nothing there. In that split second a strong hand clench both wrists behind her back. Instinctively opening her mouth to shout a protest a gag was deftly inserted and the next moment she was hauled over his shoulder. Before she could gather her wits she was bundled into a van and driven away down the crunching gravel driveway. The gravel gave way to a smooth road surface with Sophie listening intently for clues as to where they were going and what was happening. As the adrenalin rush subsided she began to think more clearly. Trussed like a chicken for the oven she could hardly move from where she had been placed in a cardboard box. This had all been carefully planed so it wasn't Libby's friends playing a prank. Then it sank in. This was her plan, going dreadfully wrong.
Sophie laughed hysterically into the gag. The fear turned to embarrassment on realising she was going to have to explain she wasn't Libby but the mother. It was her fault as she had answered to her name at the door meaning only to confirm Libby lived there. There had been little excitement in her life so this would be something to laugh over with friends in the future. She could imagine it now, telling them how she was dragged out of her own home and the terror felt being driven away by a stranger. Being kidnapped was a rare situation to be in but as it was she who had made the arrangements, it all seemed so ridiculous. The trainer had hinted in his email this might be necessary but she hadn't imagined it to be so dramatic.
There hadn't been a chance to explain anything once they arrived. She had been expecting to point out the error and for them to share an embarrassed moment where they laughed at the mistake. Instead she had been carried over his shoulder into a barn then callously dumped into a stall still tied and gagged. On realising he had no intention of removing the gag she yelled and shook her head trying to explain through frustration and anger struggling furiously.
"Look here Libby. Calm down. You're going nowhere. You're here to learn respect for your elders. Your parents arranged this and I'm going to train you to behave like a proper and respectful young woman. Get that into your head right now. Do you ear me?" The tall man said, speaking slowly and forcefully.
Sophie shook her head wanting to explain he had got it all wrong. "It's no good I'm not letting you loose until you calm down. You won't get the pampering you're used to, not here. You will have to earn everything you get. You will have to earn every little thing until you value it. Your freedom, food, clothing, shelter, even the small things in life you take for granted will have to be earned. Your attitude and hard work will be the way to earn them. I'll leave you alone to think about it." He said.
"At least the straw is fresh." She thought. Thinking about it, all that he said, applied to her too. She had experienced a privileged upbringing as an only daughter of a rich man, widowed when she was born just like Libby. Only she hadn't the same rebellious streak Libby had, she had conformed, bent to the wind. "OK." She said to herself, "Go along with it until I get the chance to explain."
He woke her with the toe of his boot keeping back, out of reach. "You calmed down now?" He asked. For a moment she wondered where she was. The smell of horses and the straw brought back the awful trouble she was in. She nodded, attempting to look calm even relaxed.
He knew exactly what to do having been at the job a long time. Usually they were younger and had parental rights over them but this was different. This was the summer break with no one but the two of them on the ranch. Meaning there were no female staff to look after the more personal chores such as making sure she dressed and bathed as ordered. It might be an indelicate operation but he had on rare occasions dealt with female prisoners in the army so he could rely on rigid self-control to get them both through the next few weeks. In the army it had just been a job, breaking people for information. After retiring from the army he considered this was just a job, only it was well paid. He was looking forward to a second retirement with this young rich kid a last minute chore. Once it was over the new guy could take on the business.
It was no good she couldn't hold on any longer she had to let go of her bladder. In the stall she wet her panties and skirt embarrassing herself before him. "This time I'll assume you didn't do that on purpose. Next time there will be a punishment for any acts of disobedience. Did I neglect to inform you of that?" Sophie didn't look at him she merely kept her gaze to the ground while he untied her. Taking no chances he attached her wrists to a stiff leather belt then led her across the muddy yard to a shower block. "When you're clean you can dress, then eat." He informed her.
"At last!" She thought, "The gag will have to be removed for me to eat." Eagerly she entered the concrete building where he removed the belt.
"You can undress. The shower is easy to figure out. Don't forget, you do exactly as I say at all times." He stated flatly. A row of showerheads stuck out of one wall in the large concrete room each with a tap below it. He stood there with arms folded as though telling her he was on guard and wouldn't budge even if she could protest.
The sooner this was over the sooner she could explain the mistake so she reluctantly stripped out of the muddy trainers and dirty clothes. Stepping under the shower she turned on the tap. Cold water splashed over her naked body taking her breath away. She would have to bend over to the floor for the soap; there were no delicate porcelain soap holders here. He wasn't looking at her but he was there making it all the more humiliating that he took no interest in her body.
Perhaps her husband had married for money, even though he was wealthy, but her body was a prize in itself. It was a trim five foot four with firm small breasts over a flat tummy, slim shapely legs below a pert bottom. Her skin was smooth silky porcelain white, emphasised by long shiny black hair that hung down her back. Her face had the look of innocence from having had little experience of life that sometimes marked a married woman of twenty-eight.
The towel was small, rough and thin, so unlike the soft fluffy bath towels she was used to but it did the job just the same. The gag had been rinsed of her spit and even the coldness of the shower seemed to have a deep cleansing effect. Her nipples stood at attention seemingly huge in proportion to her breasts yet she didn't notice this with all her attention focused upon the garment he handed her. It wasn't much more than a sack. With her own clothes in a soaking wet muddy heap in the corner of the shower block there was no choice, even if there had been one on offer, she pulled it over her naked body. It felt rough to her skin already sensitive from the cold water. Eagerly she followed him wanting at long last to have the gag removed.
"You will not speak until spoken to. You will say 'yes sir' immediately. Do you understand? When you have eaten we will talk, until then you will remain silent. One word and the gag goes right back on. Understood?" He told her.
Again she nodded. Sitting before the food her head was bent almost in to it as he undid the gag only then did she realise how hungry she had become. It didn't matter that it was a simple steak and fries she was ravenous. Working a stiff jaw around to regain its use she decided to do as ordered and eat first, talk later. It wasn't worth taking a chance.
Marched to his office she stood waiting while he looked through a file she assumed contained the email about her stepdaughter. "Do you know why you are here?" He asked.
At last she could explain. "Yes, Sir!" She responded smartly. "It's a mistake." She began. He sat back in the chair with a look of resignation telling her he had heard it all before. "I'm not Libby I'm my mum I mean I'm Sophie." She blurted out in one long breath of frustration expecting him to stop her. "Its all a mistake I shouldn't be here my daughter was supposed to be here not me." She stopped speaking seeing his frown of disbelief, not knowing what more she could say. "Why, oh, why, hadn't she thought it through more clearly." She wondered why after all the time she had to prepare all she had done was ramble unintelligibly.
"Well I've heard it all but that is a new line young lady. I guess we had better make a call. Get some reality here." He stabbed the keys reading each digit from the email.
Passing the phone to her she heard Libby's drowsy voice answer the phone. The contact with home became so important she hardly dared to take a breath in case Libby slammed the phone down upon her. "No, listen. Just listen will you. Don't hang up. Please." In halting sentences she tried to explain the situation. She didn't know where she was but tried to explain it was a training camp and it was Libby that should be hear not her. "Please just tell him I'm you will you." It all came out wrong but she didn't think it mattered what she said Libby was still hung over. All that was needed was for him to talk to her and he would realise what had gone wrong. In exasperation she handed him the phone.
"How are you Mrs Howarth? Libby has been telling me she shouldn't be here but they all say that. It's going to be rough for a few weeks for her but I can assure you she will be returned a new person. The new Libby will be a well-behaved young lady willing to abide by your rules of the house. With experience from the many young people trained here over the years I can tell you she will be a perfect daughter. Yes. That's right. She'll be here until completely, well, until she learns to behave as a young daughter should. OK. All the best, goodbye, Mrs Howarth."
He put the phone down gently glad to escape from the voice at the other end. "She seemed hung over does she drink much?" The trainer asked.
Sophie nodded absently with a mind numbed in shock.
"Well that explains your drinking too much. Like mother like daughter." He said.
Taking a deep breath to protest she was cut short before a word left her lips at the sight of the gag in his hand. "Remember. You do as I say and you will get out of here, quick or slow. It's up to you. The sooner you learn the sooner you go home." Her face turned a paler white with frustration realising she was being gagged what ever happened. Her fists tightened at her sides as she ground her teeth, she almost stamped a foot. "I dare say you're not as bad as you've been painted. There's no one around for you to get into trouble with. I reckon we will make good quick progress. I guess a few weeks away from your mother will do you good." He watched thoughts cross her face wishing yet again he could read minds. What was she planning? She would have to be watched carefully.
Doing as she was told was going to get her out of there so that is exactly what she reluctantly planned to do, with the carefully nurtured incentive that this was a rest from the tormentor, Libby. At first he was suspicious at how easy she was taking the regime of hard work, as she obviously wasn't used to even boiling an egg. Nevertheless he pushed her hard and stuck to the usual routine. At night after a long day he secured her in the room, as he too had to sleep. During the day she obeyed every command with the occasional mistake to which she submitted to a punishment detail or gave up hard earned privileges.
The first morning she had been detailed to cook breakfast and hadn't thought she was so inept but had purposely burnt it. "Spoiling food is a shame. Do you want to lose a privilege or receive a punishment?" He asked.
Not wanting to lose the newly earned and sole possession, a bottle of shampoo, she replied. "Punishment, sir."
Without thinking about it too much he pulled her over his knee and slapped her bottom. The short shapeless shift revealed her bare arse for a loud slap. It wasn't hard but a couple more stung, reddening her cheeks. It wasn't something he would ordinarily do but there had been little of her behaviour that gave an opportunity for a reprimand. Concerned she might walk away unchanged back to the usual behaviour riled him with the thought of failure. He would have to go hard on her to get through this pretence of obedience. When she stood up she rubbed her bottom yet still didn't protest or act out. Perhaps he had overreacted, for it suddenly seemed inappropriate as he reminded himself she was twenty years old not some young teenager. Still, she was here for a reason and when she left this place she would be a well-behaved individual.
For six weeks he pushed her hard until she would obey almost before he gave the order. Sometimes it was the fact of not having to take responsibility for anything or anyone that drove young people into delinquency or maybe they were just mean. The trainer didn't care what it was he only knew this one was ready to go home. He was tired of this place and needed a break so right there and then he decided to drive her home.
It was dark by the time they arrived and as usual there was no conversation except to give orders. In the driveway he turned the panel van keeping an eye on her until the front door was opened. He drove away not wishing to meet the rich bitch that opened the door or perhaps it was a servant, either way he had been paid and was longing to go fishing.
"Well your back!" Libby exclaimed. After the strange phone call six weeks ago she had broken into her mothers computer and read the emails. At first she had been livid at the idea this woman had the gall to make this secret arrangement for her to be incarcerated into a training camp for wayward teenagers. Reading the weekly reports from the trainer with glee; imagining her mother having to shower in cold water, chop wood, cook, clean and all the other detailed menial tasks had been a sweet revenge.
He had even reported putting her over his knee; being an honest man. This had been such a deliriously entertaining idea she had to share it with friends. The report had recommended keeping the young woman on a strict reign keeping the regime up as much as possible in case she slipped into bad habits again. Libby had re-read each report finding it fascinating that all this had been planned for her. Friends pointed out that having an obedient mother would be a great convenience that must be taken advantage of. They suggested parties and an unlimited allowance but she had told them to hold off until they saw what happened on her return.
"Yes, sir." Sophie replied automatically. Hardly daring to think the reports were true Libby was determined to test her out. The maid and gardener had been given time off leaving space to experiment with this new relationship. "I want to eat. You had better prepare something." She ordered. The meal was simple but it didn't mater Libby was on a high drunk with power. "Fetch me a drink." Whatever she said all her mother would do was say, "Yes, Sir." Libby decided to change that. "You will call me mistress." After a couple of drinks she wondered what to do with this new slave as she stood waiting eager to please. "My shoes need cleaning." She said for nothing better came to mind. It was a surprise that she hadn't taken them away rather she knelt at her feet polishing them with the hem of the white skirt. "You can stay there." So Sophie spent the evening fetching and carrying out errands or kneeling at Libby's feet.
Next morning Libby felt like a child at Christmas wanting to play with a new toy. Uncharacteristically she was up early enough to catch Sophie looking through her wardrobe. "That's OK. I'll choose something for you to wear." She told her. Sophie remembered last night with shame but after a good night's sleep the spell had been broken and she gathered enough confidence to speak out.
"I don't think." She began.
"That's right you don't." Libby rounded on her. "What do you think my father would have said about what you had planned for me? Being kidnapped and treated like that. If he could read those reports what would he think of you then? Did you enjoy bending over that man's knee having your bare arse spanked?" Libby produced a ball gag from her dressing gown pocket holding it up in Sophie's face. "Any more from you and you'll be wearing this." She said, bristling with indignation.
Sophie bent her head, all she could say was, "Yes, mistress." Her eyes had been as wide open as her mouth in astonishment then tightly shut with fear. Perhaps she could bare this until Libby became bored with the game. After all what did she expect? At least they were spending time together and she hadn't actually kicked off as usual. Until the effects of that strict training wore off it seemed easier to just go along with this unexpected discomfort.