Trudging home from work, I had my head down and felt miserable. It had been a rough day, abusive customers, low tips and Gillian, my boss, had been making noises that she might permanently reduce my hours for the winter. I’d been locked in my chastity belt now for nearly nine weeks and my neediness had been gradually simmered away. I felt different, like I had surrendered inside and I wasn’t sure I liked it.
At least I had a day off tomorrow. I didn’t know what I was going to do with it, but right now a day in bed hugging a stuffie and not moving about a lot sounded serene. I’d have to move for food though, as I contemplated what little I had in my room. I’d not had a chance to shop properly all week so it would be microwave rice and chili sauce for me again tonight. I sighed again to myself. I needed something to look forward to!
Arriving home, I shivered going up the stairs of my lodging to my room. It had only been last week I’d done my climb of shame here, red bruised warm arse with a dripping pussy. The pain of it had faded in a few days, but I still recalled the humiliation. Luckily nobody else had seen me! I’d resolved to never mess with my landlady Mrs Stamford again! Far harder than Hanna, she was clearly a true Domme and I didn’t want to be on the wrong side of her again.
Opening the door to my room with a sigh of relief, I noticed a card that had been pushed under my door. Puzzled, I picked it up and my eyes widened with horror as I read it: “See me after school for detention. Dress appropriately.” Oh no! She wanted another scene with me? Would my bottom stand it?!
Even if I hadn’t recognised the handwriting, it was clear who the author had to be. I felt my heart sinking, but my body was already moving of its own accord. I felt like a passenger as it moved to my closet and took out the old school uniform I had worn the last time I had paid a visit downstairs. I was in a shocked daze as I pulled off my work uniform, discarding it on my bed. I soon had the white blouse and blue skirt on, but as I looked in the mirror to add my blue and yellow tie I choked up.
Staring at myself, I must have stood still for over two minutes, a rollercoaster of emotions I didn’t understand flowing through me. Calming eventually, I finished my tie and considered what to do with my hair. My sock bun for work wouldn’t do of course, so I pulled it apart and brushed my hair through. I remembered how it had been dangling between my knees last week and getting in my way. I took a minute brushing it just to brush it, letting it further calm me down.
Relaxing, I could finally think. Ok, so I didn’t want it in the way so I needed it higher up tonight. I was still banned from braiding hair and I wasn’t willing to defy Hanna on this; not while I was belted and she had my keys! High pigtails it was then! Pulled up to the back of my head and flowing down past my shoulders, they hung down my back out of the way. Smiling at the effect, flicking my head back and forth, I admired the bounce. A sudden impulse made me take the back of a comb and pull a piece of each out of the front by my crown. Two strings of hair fell past my temples and along my cheeks, before they snaked their way across my breasts down to my waist. I swayed my head back and forth in front of the mirror, smiling at my hair movement. I felt pretty and I knew I looked cute.
I felt more like myself now as I pulled on a pair of black 3 inch block heeled shoes. They looked vaguely school-girly as I buckled them up. Looking at myself one last time in the mirror I smiled to myself as I adjusted my tie. Yeah I looked ok! Well time to face my music. As I left my room I wondered what Mrs Stamford had in mind for me tonight!
Knocking on Mrs Stamfords door, I smirked at her as she opened it. “Oi Miss this is a miscarriage of justice!” I declared as I stomped past her into her flat. I spun in her room on my heels and with my hands on my hips, stared defiantly at her. “I did nothing wrong! She started it!” I declared.
Mrs Stamford clearly wasn’t pleased AT ALL with my attitude. The door to the flat was quietly closed as she turned to look at me. She stared me down and I could feel my own defiance melting as my nervousness grew under her hard stare. Feeling increasingly anxious, I lowered my eyes to the floor unable to match that stern glare.
“Over to the desk.” She ordered me and I was grimly marched across to it. “I am not having backtalk from you young lady! Place this under your tongue.” She handed me a folded up handkerchief, white with flower stitches on the corner. As I reluctantly obeyed, she handed me another. “This one to the roof of your mouth.” Her hard stare had me cowed as she handed me three more handkerchiefs and had me place one on top of my tongue and the other two inside each cheek. My mouth was stuffed full!
Mrs Stamford compressed her lips together in a thin line at me, and held up a strip of sellotape. I groaned to myself, but obeyed. Pulling my lips closed took a little effort with how full my mouth was. The sellotape sealing my lips was joined by more, as she thoroughly taped my mouth shut. Then over the top of it she placed a long strip of white duct tape, before producing a black marker pen! With one hand on the back of my head holding me still, she wrote “Naughty girl” with an underlined flourish across the tape.
“You will stay like that until I remove it tomorrow.” She declared. “When you report here, at eight am sharp, for an outing!” My eyes widened at that, shock running through me. The thought of “Well there goes my day in bed” collided with “Oh god! I haven’t eaten! I’m gonna spend the night gagged, put to bed without any supper!” A shiver of excitement ran through me and I moaned with my own sexual frustration. I felt my pussy clench hard at the thought. I shivered harder, as I realized my loud moan hadn’t even been audible. I was thoroughly silenced!
I watched Mrs Stamford pull out the chair from behind the desk, pulling it into the room. Sitting down on it, she crooked a finger at me, beckoning me to her. “Bare-bottomed and there had better be no struggling.” she informed me. Another shiver ran through me as I pulled down my skirt and panties. I didn’t even think of resistance as I laid across her lap. She pulled me across her, adjusting me so that my bottom was raised higher and as my head came closer to the floor I felt my hair coming to rest on it. Gazing down, I watched detachedly as it curled up into four piles. I felt like I was suddenly far away, not present. Like this was happening to a stranger.
The first slap across my butt brought me back to myself. The strong hand of Mrs Stamford stung as she began my punishment. Part of me admired her thoroughness as I tried not to weep. She held back ass cheeks with her off hand, so that she could spank my inner cheeks. The spanking covered half way down my thighs and it just went on and on. I didn’t remember ever being spanked so completely before and as it continued I felt something shift inside my own head. The strangest feeling of peace washed over me.
Eventually the spanking ended and as I was hauled to my feet, I realized that I was gently crying. Tears snaked down my face, carrying my makeup with them, but I wasn’t upset. Instead I felt content. It felt different this time, normally my pussy would be soaked and as my ass burned so would my lust. Not now though. I didn’t know or care why.
Mrs Stamford pointed to the desk and as I looked down on it she asked me the simple question; “Leather or wood?” Looking down at the desk, I saw a leather riding crop alongside a wooden paddle. It was a tough choice, the sharp sting of the leather? Or the bruising and long lasting dull ache of the paddle? I closed my eyes and let my hand reach out by itself. Opening my eyes again, I found I had picked up the paddle. Handing it over to Mrs Stamford, I watched her observing me thoughtfully. It seemed she was assessing me, judging me even! I hoped she approved of what she saw.
Grasping me by the arm she hauled me over to one wall where a blackboard stood on a stand. I was surprised, I hadn’t seen this earlier! I stumbled around my skirt. Mrs Stamford kept a tight hold of my arm though, helping me balance as it slid down around my ankles. I sighed inaudibly to myself. It seemed like this hobbling me with my own underwear was going to be a running thing with her!
Handing me a stick of chalk, she said “You have fifteen minutes to write 200 lines. “I will not misbehave in class” You will be punished for every error and every missing line. Begin!” I felt shocked, but quickly began writing away. Fifteen minutes? I tried hard to do the math as I scribbled away. Assuming 100 lines in ten minutes, that would be ten lines a minute. Which was a line every six seconds! Ok I was doing it faster then that, but by my thinking that must mean 200 in 15 was what? Four and a half? I couldn’t really think it through. Maths was never my forte! I knew my wrist was going to get tired though and the mistakes would occur! “Ohhh.” I thought to myself. “I am going to fail…”
I was sobbing miserably to myself as the timer bleeped on Mrs Stamfords stopwatch. I felt like I’d let her down as I reluctantly handed over the chalk. She quickly went through my work. 186 lines, with twenty errors by her count. It seemed I had earned thirty four strokes with the paddle. I felt devastated I had failed Mrs Stamford so badly.
I was unresisting as she led me back over to the desk and bent me across it. The first stroke of the paddle pushed across my entire butt, leaving a pulsating sting in its wake. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the next strike. I felt myself drifting in my own head as the thuds came down again and again. My bottom ached as the paddle pushed me further up the desk and I had to fight to stay still for the next stroke.
This was a new experience! Struggling not to wiggle, instead of wiggling my butt off! Bratting my punishments as hard as I could was part of the game, but now I had completely surrendered to Mrs Stamford. Cooperating in my own torture, I fought to stay still and in position for her as she lined up each stroke of that cruel paddle. And it was cruel, even through my submission I felt the agony it was bringing to my rear. As the numbness from the strikes faded away it left a blistering fire that only grew beneath each impact.
I felt the tears flowing freely down my face as the misery of how I’d let down Mrs Stamford combined with the rising pain in my arse. I’d never been punished this hard before as the blows kept coming, but even so I was heartsick that I’d failed my task that badly. She must have been so disappointed, I thought as I wept. I’d lost track of the number of blows my bottom had received and that added its own kind of misery to my ordeal as I could only guess how many more of the bruising strikes were still to come…
Finally it was over and as I blinked back my tears, Mrs Stamford pulled me up, turning me around. She put a hanky over my nose and gently told me to blow. Her eyes were kind as she softly wiped it afterwards and with a thumb brushed away my tears from my eyes.
“Good girl.” I don’t know why her words meant so much to me, but I felt a surge of happiness as she led me slowly across the room to her couch. She placed a cushion on the floor and ordered me to sit on it. My mind froze, she had to be joking right? After the beating she had just given me? She couldn’t be serious? While this flashed through my mind, my body obeyed by itself and I was soon sitting crossed legged on top of the cushion, leant forward trying to hold my own weight on my lower legs. Of their own accord my hands had reached up to the top of my head and I had interlaced my fingers. Somewhere inside my mind I heard my inner brat walking out and slamming the door behind her in disgust.
Mrs Stamford had a strange smile on her face as she watched my obedient compliance. She held a book up to me; it was Macbeth! I groaned silently to myself. As she sat down on the couch and began reading to me I let my mind drift off. That ended when she slapped me across the face. I was stunned, but she hadn’t paused in her narration and her eyes were fixed on mine. It seemed almost like she was speaking from memory! Only occasional glances were going down to the text she periodically turned the pages of.
She held me in her gaze as she read me Macbeth. I have never really understood Shakespeare. The language is funny and I don’t understand what half the words mean. Mrs Stamfords voice though captured my imagination as thoroughly as her eyes had captured mine. Her voice changed tone, rose in pitch and lowered in volume at different parts of the tale. I was entranced. Carried along by her narration, the story almost made sense. Finally she finished and we smiled at each other.
“Good girl!” She said, reaching across to me and gently stroking a cheek. I thought my heart would explode with happiness as her eyes shone with approval. She sat back on the couch and weighed me up with her eyes. She seemed to be coming to some kind of decision, perhaps another punishment? Whatever it was, I was ready and obedient. Standing abruptly, she walked past me to a bookcase. I didn’t move or turn to follow her with my eyes and when she sat back on the couch I saw her recognition of that in her gaze.
She placed her index finger under my chin and raised my head high. “You are almost fully trained aren’t you?” she murmured. (I was? This was news to me!) “I have decided I shall assist Miss Dempsey with completing your training. First things first though, you need a collar. Every good little slave girl needs to be collared Marie. I haven’t worn this since Geoffrey died and perhaps it's time to pass it on to a new generation.”
I was stunned as she showed me a brown wooden box. Mrs Stamford used to be collared? She flipped open its lid and inside it I saw the silver collar. It was beautiful! My eyes were like saucers in my head as I took in the details. Laid on a red velvet cushion it was a circular ring about one inch thick with a silver ring attached to its front. Along its length was a stunningly detailed engraving of roses on a branch. Flowers and thorns sprouted from its length and it twisted and entwined every surface of the collar. I was mesmerized as I spotted the tiny discreet locking mechanism. It was underneath the ring, on the back of the collar and was almost invisible. Inside the case was a small pin like tool and I realized that must somehow be its key!
“Do you like it?” she asked me gently. I nodded vigorously at her and she smiled again. This time her smile seemed wistful though and I thought I noticed a tear in her eye. “Tomorrow,” she said, “I shall offer this to Miss Dempsey. If she agrees, it will be my gift to the two of you. A new generation.”
I wanted to see how it looked on me as a tidal wave of emotions crashed through me. To be collared! Would Hanna agree? Would she even want me like that? I had to remember to breathe as Mrs Stamford raised me to my feet. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry more, but I felt excited and happy at the same time as I met Mrs Stamfords knowing stare. It felt like christmas! I really hoped Hanna would agree!
She put her hands up to my pigtails by my head and pulled them gently through her palms. I felt the back of one hand caress my cheek as she smiled warmly at me. “It's getting late, girl.” she told me. “Go to your room now and try to sleep. Remember eight am sharp tomorrow! You will keep your hands on your head until you reach your room.” Then taking my arm she walked me to her door. I felt my skirts and panties around my ankles hobbling me, but didn’t look down as I was pushed out of her flat into the hallway.
Climbing the stairs reminded me of last week's ordeal. I had to bring one foot up a step, then bring the other with it to join it. It was slow, tiring and made worse by the pain in my bruised bottom! I leant forward to help myself climb and it pushed my pigtails over my shoulders. I watched them swing as I continued upwards, the loose strands at the front joining them and capturing my attention. I moaned with relief through my gag as I finally reached my door at the stop of the stairs, but before I could open it I heard the bathroom door open! It was my housemate Isabel!
“Marie? What the?!” Isabel was wearing only a towel around herself and a towel wrapped around her hair. She must have just had a shower I realized! What terrible timing! I watched her take in MY appearance with a wide eyed stare. Her lips moved, mouthing “naughty girl” as she read the writing on my gag. As her eyes fell down past my tear streaked face, I watched them narrow as she saw the chastity belt between my legs and my panties around my ankles. Finally taking a hard look at my beaten bottom, she shook her head at me.
“I don’t want to know Marie!” Her voice was quiet, as she hurried across the landing to her room. As she closed the door to her room behind her, I caught her expression. She looked stunned and amused, smirking at me. I on the other hand was mortified; I hadn’t realized that discovery is one of my many kinks! My pussy trembled as I wanted to crawl up into a ball and die of embarrassment!
Entering the safety of my own room I could finally close the door and relax. Grabbing my sore arse with my hands I cringed at how tender my butt was! “Oh that's gonna be some serious bruises tomorrow!” I thought to myself. I reached down, pulling off my skirt and panties.
A feeling of exhaustion washed over me then as I gazed at my ruined makeup. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer as the tiredness drove me onto my bed. Collapsing on my stomach, I heard my tummy growl with hunger, but I was too tired to care. Holding my sore bottom with both hands, I fell into a deep dreamless sleep.