Page 17 of Punished and Trained
Seven. Eight. Nine.
Each counted stroke seemed to echo in my own body, phantom sensations that made me shift restlessly on my knees. Around me, the other students watched with expressions ranging from horror to something disturbingly similar to what I was feeling. Palla’s face was flushed, her breathing as shallow as mine.
“Ten! Thank you, Mistress!” Morandra’s voice was barely a whisper now, tears streaming down her face.
The final five strokes came with devastating efficiency. By the fifteenth, Morandra was sobbing openly, her bottom a canvas of angry red welts. Yet she had maintained her position throughout, accepting the punishment with a submission that both appalled and aroused me.
“Return to your position,” Mistress Orela commanded, setting the strap aside with the same casual air she might use to replace a piece of chalk.
Morandra struggled to stand, her movements stiff and pained. She pulled up her panties with trembling hands, the white cotton stark against her flesh. When she returned to her kneeling position beside me, I could see tears still glistening on her cheeks.
“Now then,” Mistress Orela continued as if nothing had happened, “where were we? Ah yes, position five:Supplication. From your kneeling position, lean forward and place your forehead on the floor. Arms extended forward, palms down. This demonstrates complete surrender to your Guardian’s will.”
I lowered my forehead to the cold floor, my arms stretched out before me in the degrading pose. The position made me feel utterly powerless, my bottom raised high while my face pressed against the marble. Around me, I heard the soft sounds of my classmates assuming the same humiliating posture.
“Position six,” Mistress Orela announced, “Display. Rise to your hands and knees, then lower your upper body while keeping your hips elevated. This position allows your Guardian to examine and appreciate your most intimate areas.”
My cheeks burned as I moved into the pose, acutely aware of how the short skirt must be riding up, how exposed I wasbecoming. The position thrust my bottom high into the air while my chest nearly touched the floor. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the mortification.
“And finally, position seven:Surrender. Roll onto your back, draw your knees to your chest, and hold your ankles. This is the ultimate display of feminine submission and availability.”
The final position was the most degrading of all. Lying on my back with my knees pulled up, holding my ankles as instructed, I felt completely vulnerable and exposed. The white cotton panties were the only barrier between my mortifyingly warm pussy and the open air of the classroom.
“Excellent,” Mistress Orela said as she walked among us. “These seven positions form the foundation of proper Euporian wifely behavior. You will practice them daily until they become second nature. You ladies should feel fortunate that you are learning these postures now, before you are sent to serve your Guardians and Mistresses. As I told you earlier, younger girls are not allowed to know them, and thus will quite frequently find themselves whipped for being insufficiently submissive.”
I watched out of the corner of my eye as, to my dismay, our teacher stooped down to inspect the woman from Draco, whose name I thought I remembered was Trellama. Mistress Orela sniffed the air. Trellama let out a little sob, and I bit my lip as I pictured what the mistress could see and smell. At last she spoke, her voice full of satisfaction. “Miss Trellama, the wet spot on your panties does you credit, as does the strong scent of your vagina. Try to feel no more than the proper shame a woman should have to her panties exposed to view, as your sexual response is a positive thing. Have you had a man’s penis there often?”
CHAPTER 8
Viola
Trellama let out a little sob.
“No, Mistress. Not… very often.”
“Less frequently than ideal, certainly,” Mistress Orela said, nodding, “or you would not be here with us, would you?”
I bit my lip to keep myself from whimpering at the way this mortifying exchange affected me. I knew I must have a wet spot of my own, and I prayed the dreadful woman didn’t intend to inspect each of us.
“N-no, Mistress,” Trellama said. “They… the government on Draco sent me as a second chance when I refused too many suitors.”
“Let us hope you make the most of it,” Mistress Orela said. “I think we’ll be able to ensure you’re ready to submit, when you return home.”
She straightened and moved further down the row. She paused beside my supine form, and I felt her gaze assessing me. “Miss Viola, your wet spot is even more commendable than Miss Trellama’s. Please maintain that position while the others return to their seats. I wish to demonstrate proper adjustment of posture.”
My heart hammered as the other students rose and moved away, leaving me alone on the floor in the shameful pose. Mistress Orela knelt beside me, her hands cool as she adjusted the angle of my legs.
“Notice how the spine must arch properly,” she lectured to the class. “The submission must be complete and aesthetically pleasing.” Her fingers traced along my thigh, ostensibly for instructional purposes, but the touch sent unwelcome shivers through me.
“Your Guardian will expect perfection in these displays,” she continued, her hand now resting possessively on my knee. “Any hesitation or improper form will result in immediate correction.”
I bit my lip to suppress a whimper as her touch lingered, knowing that my body’s treacherous responses were being monitored by the governor, recorded for Prince Hendren’s later review. The thought that he might be watching even now, seeing me debased before these strangers, made the humiliation complete.
“You may return to your seat now,” Mistress Orela finally said, rising to her feet with fluid grace.
I scrambled up on unsteady legs, my face burning as I smoothed down my skirt and returned to my desk. The brief respite ofsitting normally felt like a luxury after the degrading positions we had just practiced.
“Now then,” Mistress Orela said, returning to her position at the front of the classroom, “we will discuss the philosophical foundations of the Good Way. Miss Palla, please read aloud the start of chapter three of your text.”
