Olivia

Olivia

Part Two

Olivia's mother reveals her secret

Mum came to collect me for half term and we girls bade each other good bye for ten days. October was on us and the nights were drawing in. Mum had prepared a lovely dinner and she sat attentively as I told her how much I was enjoying The College.

"Are you learning to be a nice young lady?' Mum wanted to know. 'Miss Kent has her own special methods of discipline to ensure your good behaviour. Has she made good on her promise that if necessary, she would apply those on you, or hasn't there been much need?'

'Well,' I started, 'she does threaten us with punishment but she hasn't done anything yet to alarm me.' I hedged. 'I'm very happy to return at the end of half term, if that's what you are wondering about.'

'It's quite a commitment, you know, Olivia.' Mum commented. 'It's still October, and the full three-term course will take you all the way through to June. Are you sure you want to commit yourself to everything Miss Kent plans to put you through?'

That was indeed quite a thought, knowing that I had already built up my accumulation of the tawse to twelve. I guess she was right. It should encourage better behaviour. Imagine being sent for every two weeks. By the end of the term I'd be getting dozens of strokes on every visit to her chamber.

'Yes, mum. I'm sure I am up to the challenge. I am learning a lot of wonderful things; dancing, riding, self-defence, etiquette, all sorts of stuff about food, cooking and dining manners and they are even teaching us about finance and how to plan our financial futures. It's really great. I truly want to continue being there.'

Mum looked at me inquiringly. She asked the direct question.

'Have you been punished yet?'

I gulped a bit and took a swig of my wine. Mum and I enjoyed sharing a bottle over dinner when we could, and it was almost finished, so perhaps my tongue was looser than it might have been otherwise.

'Yes, mum. Twice. She gave me six strokes of the tawse for each misdemeanour. It wasn't so bad. As far as I was concerned, it didn't hurt too much.'

'Twice!' retorted mum. 'Tell me, did you just get six the second time, or did she follow the old rule of adding the previous punishment first? That's her usual method. It's what happened at our old school and she told me she intended to continue the ritual when she set up The College.'

This was embarrassing. Mum was subjected to the same kind of regime as she had now entered me into? She seems to know more than she is saying.

'Yes. I got twelve the second time. And it will be eighteen next time.' I confessed

'And yet you insist that you truly want to continue your attendance there? You don't object to the discipline, knowing there will be more to come?'

New territory with my mum. But she had been through it herself.

'Mum, you told me you spent a full year under the same style of school. You met Miss Kent there and here she is now dishing out the same kind of discipline that you got. What am I missing? Did she like it so much, or so little, that she has become the giver now, not the receiver? And you told me a while back that you frequently visit her. I really would like to know.'

I was beginning to put this together. 'You go to her for punishment, don't you, mum?'

'Oh, darling. Not just beautiful, but clever too. Yes. It's true. She and I were best friends at our school and after we left, we kept in touch. We had both been rebels and often found ourselves reporting to Miss McKay, the headmistress in our day. We both found out that the punishments were easily tolerable. The numbers quickly added up, but Miss McKay was getting old and didn't have the strength to beat us very hard. After we graduated, we parted ways for a while but I found that I missed being punished.'

This was a huge revelation and I was astonished. Do I have the same gene as my mum? It was less than a week since my last meeting with the tawse and already I was working on reasons to earn punishment when I got back to College.

I could guess what was coming. 'So, you got back in touch with Miss Kent and the topic came up in conversation?'

'That's right, darling. It was actually about five years later and you were already born. Your father had left by then and I was missing adult company. I called her and she invited me to her new school which she had established. She called it The College. I went the next week and it was lovely to see her again. She had always been the dominant one of the two of us and when I reminisced about the punishments we had taken together, she asked how badly I missed my time there and if I wanted to relive those days.' Mum gazed off into the distance.

'We were both about twenty-five at that time. Still young. She asked me which of the punishment instruments I would most want to receive if I were to be beaten again. I told her it was the cane. That was the one which woke my basest feelings. I had watched her being caned sometimes, and she had watched as I had submitted to it. I told her Miss McKay had never beaten me hard enough to make me cry and I had always wondered what that would feel like, to take a really hard caning.'

I looked at mum with a whole new understanding of her. I could easily imagine myself in the same situation. Mum smiled in happy memory, or was it because she was at last able to talk with her daughter about this side to her life.

'I called her Cassandra back then, her first name, but things changed that evening. She told me she could make my wish come true. She could provide what was missing in my life, but I would have to give her my total commitment. I told her I wasn't sure if I was ready for that so she suggested I request a sample from her.'

I was very intrigued. 'A sample? Of what, mum?'

'A sample caning, sweetie. She told me she had spent the past five years being instructed in various arts, and providing discipline was one of them. She said she was now a highly skilled administrator of corrective discipline and had a clientele of more than fifty clients who came to her to relive their schooldays. Several of them were our old contemporaries, girls from school who we both knew.'

Mum reached for the bottle and poured the final inch into her glass.

'She warned me that discretion was paramount. She also informed me that she never provided this kind of discipline alone. There would always need to be a witness to ensure safety for all parties. She said that if I was willing to allow her to give me a sample caning, I would have to follow her instructions to the letter. Failure to obey could bring harsh consequences. She was very persuasive and I decided to go along with it.'

'Oh, mum. You allowed your best friend from school to give you a caning?' I was stunned.

'Absolutely, Olivia. I have no regrets, although I have to say it was a serious challenge. She made me stand up in front of her, spread my ankles about two feet apart, place my hands behind my head and ask her to give me a caning. I say she made me do it; that isn't entirely true. I did it because I wanted to. The more we had been talking, the more I realized I truly desired this. We were in her drawing room; the same one she still uses in The College. She told me to call her Mistress, and to always refer to her by that title during discipline sessions.'

'It's the same now, mum. That's what I have to call her when she beats me.' I told her.

'Well, before I made that request, she made a phonecall and I had to continue standing there in the punishment position until there was a tap on her door. It opened and in came a very stern looking lady, a few years older than us. She was beautiful but clearly rather in awe of Mistress. You know her now as Matron Riley. She is still an imposing woman. Mistress explained that we were old friends but now I wished to place myself under her authority and receive a sample caning. This was obviously nothing new to Matron Riley. She said she would prepare the room, and disappeared through a doorway into the adjoining room. A few minutes later she returned and announced that everything was ready.'

I knew that door, but as yet didn't know what lay behind it. I confess I was getting quite horny listening to this story. Mum had never given me an inkling of this side of her character before, but I could see myself in her.

'We went into the room and I was amazed at the equipment in it, and the décor. Dominatrix's lair? Dungeon? Torture chamber? I didn't know what to call it. It was a large room and although daylight outside, the windows were shuttered. Red walls and black furnishings. Chains from the ceilings and shelves on the walls covered in all manner of thing. In the centre of the room was a single item of furniture; it looked like it came from a gym. A heavy wooden structure shaped like an 'A' as seen from the side, but as I drew closer, I also noticed that there were leather cuffs chained to the four feet of this device and a padded surface over the top of it. I could guess what that was all about; it was a caning bench. Lights from the ceiling lit the area well and I saw a tall Chinese vase with an array of canes nearby. My heart was in my mouth.'

Mum looked at me over the dinner table. 'Carry on, mum. Please don't stop now.' I urged her. I wasn't really picturing my mum, or her younger self going through all this -- it was me, in my mind's eye, submitting to the Mistress.

'Matron Riley stood to one side with a leather-bound book and a pen in her hand. She was making notes. Cassandra -- Mistress, ordered me back into position and explained her rules as I stood before her.'

The rules were detailed. "When a person is caned, she will be naked. This shows a willingness to submit completely to the Mistress with nothing to hide. When a caning is awarded, it will be carried out to the full. There will be no reprieve, nor negotiation about the punishment awarded. There is a tendency for people who are caned to sometimes wish to stop the proceedings early by jumping up and trying to leave the premises -- therefore restraints are mandatory. The person being caned will be secured into position and only released once the full punishment is complete. The purpose of a caning is to inflict pain on the recipient; it is therefore permitted for the recipient to make the expected sounds. However, this Mistress has no wish to hear pleadings for mercy; any such cries will result in a gag being fitted to the person being caned. Mercy is at the discretion of the Mistress only."

'Wow, mum. This sounds pretty serious. How did you feel when you heard all that?'

'Actually, Olivia, I was rather terrified. I thought I knew my friend, but five years can change people, particularly the young. I believed she was as good as her word and that this would be a serious test, because, like I said, the old headmistress was old and not very strong, but I was about to submit to my 25-year-old friend who was in the prime of life.' Mum shrugged.

'Mistress then asked me if I was quite sure if this is what I wanted and was I prepared to submit to her for a sample caning. I told her yes. I actually said the words, 'Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress. Please allow me to submit to you for a caning.' She ordered me to strip, naked. It had been five years since she last saw me naked but that was under very different circumstances. Now she was my Mistress and she was going to hurt me, and I was hugely turned on. Miss Riley took my clothes away and locked them in a small cupboard. I really was at their mercy now. I was reminded to stand with my ankles apart and my hands behind my head and again beg Mistress to cane me. She then made me beg Matron to secure me over the bench to prevent any attempt to escape.'

I could feel my nipples aching and my pussy was throbbing. This story was doing wonderful things to me. I wanted to be that woman.

'Matron Riley, would you please position me over the caning bench and secure me by wrist and ankle. Please do not release me until I have received the full caning' Mum looked at me, her eyes wide as she recalled her words.

'I thought a sample caning would be six or maybe a dozen strokes, and not too hard. What a dummy! Matron complied with my request and there I was, with my ankles chained wide apart, bent over the bench and my wrists secure on the other side. Very exposed and completely defenceless. I couldn't move more than an inch or two and my ass was in the perfect position, at the perfect height for Mistress to apply her instrument of correction. It's her favourite, you know, the cane. She loves applying it on a willing subject, and that was me, to begin with.'

Mum smiled at me. 'The way you are squirming in your seat, I think you are enjoying my reminiscences, Olivia. Shall I continue?'

'I'll die if you don't, mum.' I told her, blushing a little at my reaction to her story.

'Well, as I said, I was now secured in position and Matron began to read from her book.'

"Entered into the ledger, Madam, is the request from the subject to endure a sample caning. I have noted the following:

She allowed her hands to drop from the correct position as she entered the punishment chamber.

She was less than respectful to you when you announced the rules for her punishment; she failed to thank you.

She required you to order her to strip, rather than begging to be allowed to do so as soon as she knew of the requirement.

She needed to be told once again to adopt the punishment position after having removed her garments.

She looked me directly in the eye when she requested that I secure her for her caning. Insufficient deference to the witness to her punishment.

Although cleanly shaved at the front of her genital area, I noticed some pubic hairs around her anus as I secured her in position over the caning bench.

Therefore, Madam, I recommend six sets for this person's caning."

'My limbs may have been blocked from moving, but my ears were working perfectly well. I was on the point of protesting, loudly, when I remembered one of the rules -- no negotiation. How many was a set, anyway? I thought to myself.'

'How many was it, mum?' I asked.

'Give me a chance to relate the story, dear. Mistress stepped around before me and I tried to look up into her face. She asked which of the three names I would like to be referred to during punishment sessions; Bitch, Slut or Slave. I didn't like the sound of the first two. 'Please call me Slave, Mistress.'

'Slave, mum?'

'Yup. Can you believe it? And she still calls me that. But, let me continue. What she had to say next had me quaking, and there was nothing I could do about it.'

"Very well, slave. You contacted me and told me you missed your punishments. You came to me and told me you wished Miss McKay had caned you harder, enough to make you cry. I asked you if you would like to make your wishes come true and you confessed you did. I told you I am an experienced disciplinarian and offered to provide you with a 'sample' caning and you agreed. Now you have gone so far as to strip naked in front of me and matron Riley to display your readiness to participate in this sample caning. You begged to be placed in bondage in the full knowledge that you will not be released until your punishment is complete. Is all this true, slave?"

'I had to agree that it was all true, Olivia. It was. I couldn't deny it, but the cold truth was dawning on me that I might be in deeper than I wished to be. I wondered about asking if it was too late to reconsider but I worried that might make things worse. I resigned myself to my fate. What I said to her was this.'

"Yes, Mistress. It is all true, and I also accept Matron Riley's list of my misdemeanours. Please punish me accordingly. Please inform me of how many strokes a 'set' consists of."

"I always deliver punishment in sets of six. You have agreed to submit to an initial sample caning of six sets, so you have earned thirty-six strokes, slave. Does that please you?"

'What else could I say, Olivia?' Mum looked at me, flushed at the memory. 'I thanked her and assured her that I was happy to hear she intended to give me so many strokes. In fact, I had never taken more than eighteen at any time in my life, so I knew I was going to suffer.'

'You were very brave, mum. Was it all you expected? Did she make you cry?'

'She started quite gently, telling me that she would increase the strength after each set. The first three sets were all easily tolerable, although the strokes certainly stung. She asked me if I would like to be caned harder. I said yes. The next set was quite a lot harder and I was beginning to writhe at each stroke. She announced that I had twelve more strokes allocated. Was I willing to take them at an increased level, or would I prefer mercy? Crafty bitch! I was forced to beg her to increase the severity of my caning, knowing that there would be no mercy. "Please cane me harder for the next set, Mistress." I pleaded with her. Matron snorted derisively in the distance. I was crying out as each stroke struck. This was harder than I had ever experienced before. She was indeed a lot stronger than old Miss McKay. The last three strokes had me shrieking, and when they were done, there was a moment of silence. "You have six more strokes to receive, slave. Would you like me to cane you harder? Would you have me make you cry?" she asked, almost tenderly.'

I looked at mum. She had a defiant mien to her face and I knew what she was going to say.

'You begged her to cane you harder, didn't you, mum?'

'That's right, sweetie. I did. I was on an incredible high and it was like I was watching the scene from above. The Matron standing behind the slave who was secured to the caning bench. Multiple extremely red stripes and dark bruises on her buttocks. Mistress selecting a different cane for the final set of six. She laid them on very hard and I wondered if she had broken the skin. I hoped I wasn't beginning to bleed. I was in tears, shouting "No, no." but I didn't ask her to stop. Yes, she made me cry, not only in pain but also in gratitude. She had understood exactly what I needed and expertly provided it.'

Mum paused, smiled over at me and reached out to hold my hand.

'She is still my best friend. I still go to her three or four times a year for more of the same. Are you shocked, darling, to hear that your mother has been visiting another woman to be caned for all these past years? It's not just the beatings I have to submit to when I visit her chamber. There are other, more degrading things she has me do for her but I'll tell you more about those another time. I'm quite worn out now.'

'To tell the truth, I think it's the hottest story I have ever heard mum. I think there is no doubt that I am your daughter, because I have been following your story replacing you with me as the willing slave. It's my fantasy fleshed out. I think you have sold me on seeing through the whole year under the authority of Miss Kent at The College. The fog of youthful ignorance has cleared and I think your revelations have helped me to understand more about myself too. Thank you, mum. You've treated me like an adult, shared your deepest secret with me as you might with a best friend. I think you and I are going to get along even better in future and who knows, I might become one of Miss Kent's clients one day too. Let's see how the second half of this term plays out.'

Mum stood up, as did I and we ran to hug each other. Two kindred spirits happily united.

Continued in part Three