Posture & Discipline

From Blushes 27, continuing on from Carriage & Posture.

Veronica struggling, weeping, blubbering; bottom squirming, breaths coming in short gasps, legs kicking, hair tossing. A funny lump pressing up under her tummy. Her legs spreading wide, thoughtlessly, immodestly, Mr Mildmore’s hand spanking and stinging her bum…

An hour later Veronica was standing straight and erect with her back to the fire. Or her bottom. Because it was her bottom that could feel the direct rays of the flickering flames. Her back was covered, in the tight little vest which reached no further down than her slim waist. And as the little vest was all she had on that meant that the ripe swell of her bottom was quite bare. The cheeks glowing pleasantly — as they had glowed earlier, but not so pleasantly. Mr Mildmore’s elegant sitting room with the books along one wall and that cosy fire glowing in the stone fireplace. Just Veronica standing still and straight in Mr Mildmore’s sitting room.

‘Stand there until I come back,’ Mr Mildmore had told her. ‘Stand straight and still and erect without moving a muscle.’ He had slid his hand lovingly over Veronica’s nude bottom. ‘Without a tremor of these splendid gluteus maxima. Can you do that?’

Veronica had said ‘Yes, Mr Mildmore,’ though the hand fondling her bare nates made her bottom want to tremble and squirm anyway. She was not used to having her bare bottom fondled by a man. Nor was she used to standing in front of one, wearing only a waist-length vest so that her pussy was also quite bare. There was that instinctive urge that a girl feels to put her hand in front of it in the same way that there was an instinctive need to recoil away from the bottom-fondling hand. But Mr Mildmore was extremely sharp about that sort of thing. You had to keep your hands at your sides — unless it happened that he told you to put them on your head. A girl had to learn to let her body be free and natural. That was one of the basics of good deportment and carriage. That was why Veronica was wearing only the vest, so that her body could be free and natural.

And if you found all this difficult to accept Mr Mildmore was more than ready to drive the message home with his cane. That quite sickening rattan cane.

Veronica shivered at the thought of the cane even more than she shivered at Mr Mildmore’s intimate hand. She had never dreamt of a cane, not in all of her 18 years. Not until she arrived here at Mr Mildmore’s elegantly attractive place down in Hampshire. But when she had arrived, this morning, it had at once become an awful reality. Being caned and being spanked. On her bare bottom because right away Mr Mildmore had made her take her knickers off.

Making her go about in just her blouse and stockings and suspender belt. No skirt or knickers, they had to be off so that the action of her gluteus maximus muscles could be fully observed by Mr Mildmore. Mr Mildmore was dreadfully keen on the gluteus maximus muscles — or as you might more commonly refer to it, Veronica’s hindquarters, her bottom. He was dreadfully keen on watching it (or them). And equally keen, at the slightest excuse, of getting his hand or cane to work, with a devastating effect.

A girl’s bottom, he had told her, those gluteus maximus muscles, was the essential key to good deportment. It formed the very fulcrum of a young woman’s every movement. And Veronica was here to be taught that. The advertisement that Veronica’s mother had replied to had also spoken of dress sense and grooming — but so far there had been no mention of these. It was discipline, Veronica’s bare bottom in other words, he was so far exclusively concerned with. That was why she had just the little vest on, in the same way that it had been only her blouse and stockings earlier.

The little vest had come from the shop in the town, a short drive away.

Mr Mildmore had said at lunch that he wanted Veronica in something else as a change from the blouse and stockings. She had heard that with a silent scream of relief — but as it turned out what Mr Mildmore wanted was to be no better. He had looked through what Veronica had brought in her suitcase but decided none of that was suitable. She had a couple of tee-shirts but Mr Mildmore said they weren’t tight enough. He wanted something nice and tight. And of course short as well. So they had driven over to the town to get something. Veronica had been allowed to put her skirt back on for the journey but not any knickers. Mr Mildmore it seemed was very much against knickers at all times. A girl’s bottom needed to have freedom without any tight constraint.

In the shop Veronica had to take all her clothes off and then try on the vests that the proprietor produced. Nude in that little back room with the two men intently watching as she tried the vests on. That was almost as bad as being caned. Not quite though. Mr Mildmore had eventually decided on one two sizes smaller than what Veronica normally wore. A pretty little vest with a lace V-neck. But very short and tight.

That was the vest she had on now. As her sole garment. Standing in front of the fire in Mr Mildmore’s sitting room and supposed to be not moving a muscle although that was not easy; in fact it was not really possible. Mr Mildmore had been gone about five minutes now. To his study to do something or other. And then when he came back…

Well, presumably there would be more of that awful business. Carriage and Posture. Which seemed to be just an excuse to put Veronica in the most embarrassing positions — without skirt or knickers of course — and then spank or cane her bottom. There was the rest of today and then all of tomorrow to be endured. The prospect brought out little pin-pricks of perspiration on Veronica’s glowing skin. Without thinking her hands went to the hem of the miniscule vest and pulled it down in front — though of course there was no possible way it could be pulled down anywhere near her pussy. She was unthinkingly doing this when Mr Mildmore suddenly appeared. Oh dear.

‘What! What is this, Miss? Is that the position I left you in?’

Mr Mildmore was striding towards her with an angry look on his face.

‘No… I mean…’ Veronica’s hands had abruptly left her vest and come down at her sides again. She stood erect and straight once more. But clearly…

‘You seem to have no sense of discipline whatsoever, my girl. I can’t leave you for two seconds. How can you hope to get anywhere. Eh?’

With the ‘Eh?’ Mr Mildmore’s two hands came out, grabbed the hem of her vest and yanked it up. Right up above Veronica’s tits. She gave a yelp, with her hands automatically coming up in front. Mr Mildmore smacked them away. Then took hold of her bare tits, one in each of his large hands.

‘Eh Miss? What’s the answer?’

His hands squeezing her tits made her feel all woozy. That same sort of sicky feeling as when earlier he had put his hand on her pussy. Veronica made a whimpering sound.

‘I… I… ooohhh… I wasn’t thinking.’

‘Wasn’t thinking? What were you doing then? Day-dreaming? Day-dreaming about boys, I expect, Miss.’

And then Mr Mildmore did that awful thing again. Took hold of her pussy. His hand cupping it. Squeezing.

‘This, Miss. This is all young girls can think of, isn’t it? Steamy thoughts about young men when what they are supposed to be doing is concentrating on the exercise. Isn’t that it, Miss? Isn’t it?’

Veronica squirmed and gasped as his fingers did things to that most sensitive part of her body. Then he let go, and took hold of both her arms, holding them behind her back. Her two wrists held in one of Mr Mildmore’s hands. Which left his other free…

‘Aaa000www!’

The hand was sharply spanking her bare bottom. ‘We’ve got to…’

SMACK!

‘Learn…’ SMACK! ‘To do…’ SMACK! ‘As we’re…’ SMACK! ‘Told.’ SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

‘Haven’t we, young lady?’

A further series of stinging smacks to the fire-warmed cheeks. Veronica was squealing and yelping and there were now tears sliding down her other cheeks. The full-blooded spanks on her fire-relaxed bottom were twice as painful as before and there was also what he had just done, seconds earlier, to those most sensitive regions. The tears just rolled out. A veritable flood.

‘So, Miss. Will that remind you in future? That we must take what we are doing seriously. Eh?’

Mr Mildmore had finally stopped and let go of her. Veronica was sobbing, gasping for breath. She felt as if at any moment she would collapse in a heap on the floor.

‘Will it, Veronica?’ Mr Mildmore’s hand took another squeeze at one of the still bared tits. She made a despairing ‘Nnnnggghhh…’ sound. It was not recognisable as anything but Mr Mildmore evidently decided it was good enough. Or perhaps he thought that Veronica was not in a state to take any more.

‘All right. That’s good. We’ll have a break then. You can go out in the kitchen and make a pot of tea. Bring it in here and we’ll have a little break and then get to work again. But we must do our very best, mustn’t we, my dear?’

Mr Mildmore now sounded nice and friendly and ordinary. Which in a way made what he had just done all the more unbelievable. Veronica staggered out on jerky legs. Somehow she made the tea, still clothed in only the little vest pulled up above her tits.

She thought of pulling it down but then thought again. Mr Mildmore who jumped on her at the merest thing could easily use that as an excuse for… whatever he felt like doing next.

It is not easy to sit calmly and drink tea when you are dressed (or more accurately not dressed) like that. Not at all. Veronica’s body tingling all over. From the spanking and from the other things — his hands which though she hated them there on her private-most places nonetheless had a very arousing effect. Sitting there opposite Mr Mildmore and trying to make polite conversation, but all too conscious of his sharp eyes on her bare boobs — their nipples unfortunately stiffened up — and on that brown bush of hair between her thighs.

How could her mother ever have sent her here? Veronica asked herself that for the hundredth time. The only answer was that she hadn’t known, couldn’t have guessed. And clearly Veronica would not be able to tell her. She would never be able to bring herself to breathe a word of this ordeal. What would she say then? She couldn’t think; she would have to make something up. What…?

‘You’re not dreaming again, Veronica?’

Oh dear. Her mind must have wandered off. ‘No… no…’

‘I said come here if you’ve finished your tea. Here by my chair.’

Veronica got up and went over. What now? Mr Mildmore made her kneel on the floor next to him. And told her to put her hands on her head.

‘Arch your back. Push those things out. Let me see some proper posture.’

Arching her tits out at him. Mr Mildmore’s fingers flicking over the erect nipples.

‘You were dreaming again, young lady. Dear me. It seems you can’t learn.’

The fingers flicked again. Briefly tweaking each nipple. ‘It looks as if we need something more, eh young lady?’

‘Something more’ was over his lap again. Face down in front of that cosy fire. Veronica’s full haunches squarely across Mr Mildmore’s thighs. A bit of preliminary fondling and then his hand cracking down. She heard herself squeal out. It wasn’t 20 minutes since that last spanking.

Squealing and then as it continued sobbing as well. Because Mr Mildmore knew how to really hurt you.

When he had finished he hauled her to her feet and told her to go upstairs, to her room. He said he would be up shortly. He gave Veronica’s trembling, glowing bottom a dismissive sharp smack.

In the little room, wiping at her eyes, Veronica looked around. At the bed, at her suitcase over by the wardrobe. What was she supposed to do? Get in bed? Mr Mildmore hadn’t said. And she still had only the pulled-up vest on. If she didn’t do just what Mr Mildmore wanted he would give her another spanking. Or worse. Worse? What was worse? She looked again at the bed.

Shivering Veronica went over and pulled the cover back and got in. About half a minute later she heard footsteps on the stairs. And then the door was opening.