Demonstration
Sarah straightened her ties and look nervously at the clock. Two minutes. She was instructed to report to the main room at 4pm exactly. It was almost time, she took last look into the mirror, adjusted her grey shirt and signed heavily before turning back and leaving.
She knocked nervously on the door and waited. When she heard short and strict 'come' she started trembling even more. She walked into the room trying to ignore multiple eyes staring at her. Room seemed to be full of people, but none of them was sympathetic in any way to her fate. Surrounded by so many people yet Sarah felt awfully alone and vulnerable.
She looked pleadingly at Mr. Silverthorn knowing it won't do much good, but needed to try anyway. She was really scared. As always part of her wanted to be a good girl but she knew that task ahead was much more difficult than anything he ever demanded from her. And she really doubted she could do it. She knew the punishment would be terrible if she failed, but right now she was more concerned with the fact she really, really wanted to live up to his, Mr. Silverthorn's, expectations. Over the last few months she got used to his rules so much it become her true reason for existence.
Who is Sarah? She is a normal, sensitive and full of passion girl. She has her needs and desires like any other girl her age would. But she is different in one main aspect. She has no control over herself, neither over her mind as well as body.
Her uncle, a busy and absolutely indifferent to her needs man could never understood what it means to truly be an uncle. He was supposed to take care of her but was chronically incapable of it. But he had a friend. And that friend had a friends. And...I'm sure you got the idea. One day Sarah was being sent to mysterious place, where she was about to be trained. She had no idea why and what fate expected her there but had no choice, as always. She didn't know how long she will stay either, but somehow, anything seemed better than living with her uncle.
The Institute was nothing else but some completely twisted kind of reformatory. Sarah was greeted with canes, cold showers and a set of rules she was supposed to obey. Very quickly she realised that whether she obeyed them or not she would still got punished one way or another. As that was her fate. She made numerous trips back to the Institute every time her uncle was on some business trip to another country.
Over the time she got used to it though and stopped complaining, not that complaining ever brought anything good anyway. Passive attitude was soon replace but longing. She wanted to visit the Institute, she needed to go there, needed to fill that someone cared abut her. Although it was always painful and often full of humiliation she become depended on it. She found peace in pain and fulfilment in knowing Mr. Silverthorn was proud of her achievement. Going to sleep with sore and hot bottom made her felt loved and cared for. Somehow her mind translated all that suffering as the satisfaction of fulfilling one's own true destination.
You might think her life is very sad, but Sarah never thought so. Being punished and hearing afterwards that she was a good girl meant being happy. Meant happiness which nothing else in life could cause.
Sometimes Mr. Silverthorn taught Sarah how to be accessible to other men. She taught her that she should make herself available if the man wished to touch or play with her. There was nothing sexual about that. She wasn't really treated as a woman there. Se was more of a subject, and play thing, and a toy. But somewhere there along with that she also knew that all that training was for her own good.
One day uncle sent her to the Institute and never went back to collect her. First she felt abandoned and lonely, but as weeks passed she accepted her new fate. She learnt all the rules Mr. Silverthorn expected her to follow and did her best to obey. She felt happy and proud when he reworded her with warm words, and guilty if she failed him. She accepted all the punishment and always tried to take it bravely. Feeling cared for made her life worth living.
Each new challenges Mr. Silverthorn set was always as scary as welcomed. She needed them to prove herself, but also knew how painful punishments would get if she failed. It was a dangerous game and she never got to set the rules, but it always seemed to be worth the risk. And struggling to perform at her best was very satisfying. It was a satisfying as painful were the failures.
And everything looked like she was about to fail now. When he informed her about the next task all she could do was shake her head like mad. She couldn't really think clearly she was so terrified, she couldn't speak and beg him to reconsider. Her big scared eyes looked at him pleadingly wishing something could change it mind.
Of course she paid for defiance straight away and the punishment ended when she apologised sobbing and promised him to do her best during the demonstration. Because that's what it was, the demonstration.
He wanted to use her as a subject for his new project, one that was supposed to be witnessed by many people. He wanted to punish her severely with at least 50 people watching and recording her every movement and squeak. Sarah knew perfectly well, what sever beating meant. They were very scary and usually pushed her beyond her limits. What's more by that demonstration Mr. Silverthorn wanted to show how a girl should behave while being punished. He wanted to show how well he trained her. He wanted to let everyone know how much self control he taught her to exert while being punished. But did he really teach her that much control? Can she meet his demands?
Sarah knew that the demonstration, the beating, was not only about her surviving it, he wanted her to go through it with dignity and pride. And despite the utter horror she really wanted to show as much pride and dignity as possible. But the idea of so many witnesses just freaked out. It was completely different than being punished privately with no one there apart from her, him and the cane.
Yet, there was nothing Sarah could do. So, she was there, dressed in a perfectly ironed uniform of grey skirt, white blouse and juicy yellow/grey tie. Her ankle socks were perfectly white, and her black shoes nicely polished. Regulations white cotton panties covered her soon to be abused bum.
'Sarah, pull down your panties and place yourself on the table on all four,' his strict but calm voice brought her back to reality.
She did as told, her hands shaking visibly until she climbed slowly and positioned herself. Just before she closed her eyes shut she noticed big mirror in front of her. Her backside was facing the crowd so the purpose of the mirror was no doubt to allow all the witnesses see her face while she was being punished. She felt so terribly exposed and vulnerable as never before.
Sarah's body was still shaking, but now once she had good support it wasn't so visible any more. She flinched though when she felt Mr. Silverthorn's hand on her bum lifting the skirt, now there was no protection between her bum and the cane or all the eyes which seemed to be permanently fixed upon her.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' Mr. Silverthorn begun his speech. 'Thank you for coming here. As announced before I intend to perform a little demonstration. The girl here, Sarah has been chosen to satisfy yours and mine curiosity. Her punishment for yesterday's disobedience is due and I chosen to use it for today's demonstration. She will receive 36 hard cane strokes and was instructed to take it stoically without breaking position or moving around to much. The girl is forbidden to cover her bum with hands or try to put her feet in the way but has been allowed to cry and yelp. Please, feel free to move around the room to have clear view. Has anyone have any questions?'
Sarah felt completely objectified. She was nothing more than a toy in her Trainer's hands. He could do whatever he wanted to her. More, he would do anything to please his guests at her expense. Three dozens of strokes didn't sound that bad, she survived more, but since there was such a big audience, Sarah knew what awaited her would be the hardest ever caning she received. The welts would stay on her bum for days reminding her of her public disgrace each time she tried to sit. Before the first stroke landed her eyes were full of tears.
'What if she will move or interfere in any other way?' someone at the back of the room asked after the few seconds of hesitation.
Sarah didn't need the answer to that question. She knew all to well what would happen.
'Strokes will be divided into three sets of 12, after each set I will allow her a minute of break to catch her breath. If she will move or prevent me from completing any of the sets the set will be applied again. Until she will take it without a flinch. But I assure you, Sarah has been very well trained, and it's in her best interest to do her best right now.'
Yes, it was in her best interest, apart from guilt, there would a far sever punishment that a repeat of 12 strokes dished out for her after the audience would go home if she failed. She knew his method of reducing her to a sobbing, pleading girl all too well.
'How long have you been training her?' lady sitting close to the wall asked.
Not long enough, Sarah though wishing she had more time to achieve the level of self-control Mr. Silverthorn expected her to show right now.
'Few months, a little bit more that 5'
'Are you sure it will be enough?' someone else asked moving closer to have better view.
'Her training was very intense and strict. I'm sure she won't disappoint me,' Mr. Silverthorn's faith in her made Sarah smile despite the stress she has been in.
Each time she heard him saying positive things about her she felt stronger. And happier. And prouder. Also, deep down she knew she deserved every single stroke that was about to land on her bum. The disobedience that took place the day before that Mr. Silverthorn mentioned already has been making her feel guilty, and she needed to be punished to alleviate that sense of guilt. In a way she was grateful that the whole demonstration thing will make the punishment all the more sever. She needed that pain to forgive herself, and to ever expect he would forgive her.
The coldness of the wood tapping against her bum brought her back to reality. Apparently the audience had no more questions and the caning was about to start.
'Sarah, I want you to go down to your elbows, arch you back and lift your head so that everyone can see your face in the mirror. Keep it that way through the whole punishment.'
'Yes Sir.'
And then the caning begun with the force Sarah has never felt before. First three strokes were the worst. As the cane cut through her soft flesh she felt all the air being squeezed out of her lungs. Burning spread so fast it soon become all her world. She struggled to keep her hands away from her bum. She knew she wasn't allowed to rub and with all her heart she didn't want to disappoint him.
As the caning continued her bum cold and her mind clearly unprepared to deal with such a pain become her enemy. Only her stubbornness allowed her to survive. With each stroke her muscles tensed and her palm tightened clutching to the edge of the desk as she managed to survive through the first six strokes. And then something begun to change. Something clicked and broke in her.
Her tears poured down her face through her closed eyes, her mind and ability to perceive external world got clouded but at the same time she felt that pain makes her feel good. The so well known feeling of catharsis was back, and become her friend that guided her through the experience.
But even with all the adrenaline pumped through her body pain was still far worse than what she was used to deal with. She was getting weaker and weaker while it became more and more difficult to keep the position. She was fighting for each breath deeply concentrated on the pain itself as he trained her.
Once the first set of 12 strokes was over it took her few second to realise there was no more blows striking her. Wave of the well known warmth surrounded her. She was divided between wanting to escape any further pain and knowing she deserves it.
She realised she has been clutching the edge of the so hard she lost feeling in her fingers. One minute of a break she had between the sets was not enough to let her recover and she knew that. When she heard the guy that asked one of the questions before asking whether he could touch her bum she was relieved to have few more seconds to rest. But Mr. Silverthorn didn't allow for it.
'There will be time for touching, squeezing and other things you might want to do to her later. Now I need to proceed with the caning to ensure the lesson will be as painful and memorable as I intend it to be.'
And with no more warnings he proceeded with the punishment. Sarah's bum wasn't cold any more, but with increasing number of marks and bruises it was of little assistance. The pain was getting worse with each stroke.
The occasional flinching after strokes developed into constant trembling as her muscles grew more tired. In order to find more comfortable position she placed her head on her hands forgetting she was supposed to keep it high nicely visible and reflected in the mirror. It took few strokes before Mr. Silverthorn realised she wasn't following the rule.
But then, 'Sarah, I can't see your head! What stroke are we at?'
Of course Sarah lost track long time ago but it didn't matter now. She knew it was a tricky question.
'Back to one...Sir,' she whispered swallowing tears. 'Second set, first stroke.'
She was too confused by pain to even realised the consequences for it. She barely made it through the half of the caning, and now, she still had 24 strokes.
'Yes, good girl. Brace yourself, and keep you head up!' his voice clearly showed his disappointment but as usually there was no anger present.
'Yes, Sir.'
She could swear some of the witness of her misery were on her site now. She could feel their sympathy so clearly as someone was holding her arm right now giving her strength. She felt proud again and grateful that he has chosen her for that demonstration, that he trusted her. She knew she could do it. She had to do it.
She disappointed him by lowering her head and she wasn't about to make the second mistake twice. She bravely opened her eyes and fixed them on the mirror. With the corner of her eye she could see the cane moving up and down assaulting her bottom. She fought to suppress flinching wanting so much to show him all the effort she was prepared to make. Wanting him to know how much it meant to her to live up to his standards.
Feeling guilty because of the failure somehow made her stronger. Once the cane started falling down onto her bum she gripped the edge of the desk as hard as possible and proudly took what was her. Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks as the pain grew worse and worse.
Sarah barely noticed when the second dozen was over and the short break came. She was in so much pain that all she could do was stay in position and do not move at all cost. Anything else was just too much for her. She could hear people talking, no doubt talking about her, but words were so blurred they didn't make any sense. She could sense though they were impressed, that they prised her achievement, and self-control, and braveness. She felt so good, so worthy. She felt that at that stage she could take anything. Anything to make Mr. Silverthorn happy and proud of her. She knew he will be, just 12 more strokes and he will say it, publicly, how proud he was. And Sarah needed to hear it so much.
She closed her eyes and braced herself for the last dozen...
(c) Lara Cornwell 2009
Like it? Email me and tell me that!
Go back to stories index
She knocked nervously on the door and waited. When she heard short and strict 'come' she started trembling even more. She walked into the room trying to ignore multiple eyes staring at her. Room seemed to be full of people, but none of them was sympathetic in any way to her fate. Surrounded by so many people yet Sarah felt awfully alone and vulnerable.
She looked pleadingly at Mr. Silverthorn knowing it won't do much good, but needed to try anyway. She was really scared. As always part of her wanted to be a good girl but she knew that task ahead was much more difficult than anything he ever demanded from her. And she really doubted she could do it. She knew the punishment would be terrible if she failed, but right now she was more concerned with the fact she really, really wanted to live up to his, Mr. Silverthorn's, expectations. Over the last few months she got used to his rules so much it become her true reason for existence.
Who is Sarah? She is a normal, sensitive and full of passion girl. She has her needs and desires like any other girl her age would. But she is different in one main aspect. She has no control over herself, neither over her mind as well as body.
Her uncle, a busy and absolutely indifferent to her needs man could never understood what it means to truly be an uncle. He was supposed to take care of her but was chronically incapable of it. But he had a friend. And that friend had a friends. And...I'm sure you got the idea. One day Sarah was being sent to mysterious place, where she was about to be trained. She had no idea why and what fate expected her there but had no choice, as always. She didn't know how long she will stay either, but somehow, anything seemed better than living with her uncle.
The Institute was nothing else but some completely twisted kind of reformatory. Sarah was greeted with canes, cold showers and a set of rules she was supposed to obey. Very quickly she realised that whether she obeyed them or not she would still got punished one way or another. As that was her fate. She made numerous trips back to the Institute every time her uncle was on some business trip to another country.
Over the time she got used to it though and stopped complaining, not that complaining ever brought anything good anyway. Passive attitude was soon replace but longing. She wanted to visit the Institute, she needed to go there, needed to fill that someone cared abut her. Although it was always painful and often full of humiliation she become depended on it. She found peace in pain and fulfilment in knowing Mr. Silverthorn was proud of her achievement. Going to sleep with sore and hot bottom made her felt loved and cared for. Somehow her mind translated all that suffering as the satisfaction of fulfilling one's own true destination.
You might think her life is very sad, but Sarah never thought so. Being punished and hearing afterwards that she was a good girl meant being happy. Meant happiness which nothing else in life could cause.
Sometimes Mr. Silverthorn taught Sarah how to be accessible to other men. She taught her that she should make herself available if the man wished to touch or play with her. There was nothing sexual about that. She wasn't really treated as a woman there. Se was more of a subject, and play thing, and a toy. But somewhere there along with that she also knew that all that training was for her own good.
One day uncle sent her to the Institute and never went back to collect her. First she felt abandoned and lonely, but as weeks passed she accepted her new fate. She learnt all the rules Mr. Silverthorn expected her to follow and did her best to obey. She felt happy and proud when he reworded her with warm words, and guilty if she failed him. She accepted all the punishment and always tried to take it bravely. Feeling cared for made her life worth living.
Each new challenges Mr. Silverthorn set was always as scary as welcomed. She needed them to prove herself, but also knew how painful punishments would get if she failed. It was a dangerous game and she never got to set the rules, but it always seemed to be worth the risk. And struggling to perform at her best was very satisfying. It was a satisfying as painful were the failures.
And everything looked like she was about to fail now. When he informed her about the next task all she could do was shake her head like mad. She couldn't really think clearly she was so terrified, she couldn't speak and beg him to reconsider. Her big scared eyes looked at him pleadingly wishing something could change it mind.
Of course she paid for defiance straight away and the punishment ended when she apologised sobbing and promised him to do her best during the demonstration. Because that's what it was, the demonstration.
He wanted to use her as a subject for his new project, one that was supposed to be witnessed by many people. He wanted to punish her severely with at least 50 people watching and recording her every movement and squeak. Sarah knew perfectly well, what sever beating meant. They were very scary and usually pushed her beyond her limits. What's more by that demonstration Mr. Silverthorn wanted to show how a girl should behave while being punished. He wanted to show how well he trained her. He wanted to let everyone know how much self control he taught her to exert while being punished. But did he really teach her that much control? Can she meet his demands?
Sarah knew that the demonstration, the beating, was not only about her surviving it, he wanted her to go through it with dignity and pride. And despite the utter horror she really wanted to show as much pride and dignity as possible. But the idea of so many witnesses just freaked out. It was completely different than being punished privately with no one there apart from her, him and the cane.
Yet, there was nothing Sarah could do. So, she was there, dressed in a perfectly ironed uniform of grey skirt, white blouse and juicy yellow/grey tie. Her ankle socks were perfectly white, and her black shoes nicely polished. Regulations white cotton panties covered her soon to be abused bum.
'Sarah, pull down your panties and place yourself on the table on all four,' his strict but calm voice brought her back to reality.
She did as told, her hands shaking visibly until she climbed slowly and positioned herself. Just before she closed her eyes shut she noticed big mirror in front of her. Her backside was facing the crowd so the purpose of the mirror was no doubt to allow all the witnesses see her face while she was being punished. She felt so terribly exposed and vulnerable as never before.
Sarah's body was still shaking, but now once she had good support it wasn't so visible any more. She flinched though when she felt Mr. Silverthorn's hand on her bum lifting the skirt, now there was no protection between her bum and the cane or all the eyes which seemed to be permanently fixed upon her.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' Mr. Silverthorn begun his speech. 'Thank you for coming here. As announced before I intend to perform a little demonstration. The girl here, Sarah has been chosen to satisfy yours and mine curiosity. Her punishment for yesterday's disobedience is due and I chosen to use it for today's demonstration. She will receive 36 hard cane strokes and was instructed to take it stoically without breaking position or moving around to much. The girl is forbidden to cover her bum with hands or try to put her feet in the way but has been allowed to cry and yelp. Please, feel free to move around the room to have clear view. Has anyone have any questions?'
Sarah felt completely objectified. She was nothing more than a toy in her Trainer's hands. He could do whatever he wanted to her. More, he would do anything to please his guests at her expense. Three dozens of strokes didn't sound that bad, she survived more, but since there was such a big audience, Sarah knew what awaited her would be the hardest ever caning she received. The welts would stay on her bum for days reminding her of her public disgrace each time she tried to sit. Before the first stroke landed her eyes were full of tears.
'What if she will move or interfere in any other way?' someone at the back of the room asked after the few seconds of hesitation.
Sarah didn't need the answer to that question. She knew all to well what would happen.
'Strokes will be divided into three sets of 12, after each set I will allow her a minute of break to catch her breath. If she will move or prevent me from completing any of the sets the set will be applied again. Until she will take it without a flinch. But I assure you, Sarah has been very well trained, and it's in her best interest to do her best right now.'
Yes, it was in her best interest, apart from guilt, there would a far sever punishment that a repeat of 12 strokes dished out for her after the audience would go home if she failed. She knew his method of reducing her to a sobbing, pleading girl all too well.
'How long have you been training her?' lady sitting close to the wall asked.
Not long enough, Sarah though wishing she had more time to achieve the level of self-control Mr. Silverthorn expected her to show right now.
'Few months, a little bit more that 5'
'Are you sure it will be enough?' someone else asked moving closer to have better view.
'Her training was very intense and strict. I'm sure she won't disappoint me,' Mr. Silverthorn's faith in her made Sarah smile despite the stress she has been in.
Each time she heard him saying positive things about her she felt stronger. And happier. And prouder. Also, deep down she knew she deserved every single stroke that was about to land on her bum. The disobedience that took place the day before that Mr. Silverthorn mentioned already has been making her feel guilty, and she needed to be punished to alleviate that sense of guilt. In a way she was grateful that the whole demonstration thing will make the punishment all the more sever. She needed that pain to forgive herself, and to ever expect he would forgive her.
The coldness of the wood tapping against her bum brought her back to reality. Apparently the audience had no more questions and the caning was about to start.
'Sarah, I want you to go down to your elbows, arch you back and lift your head so that everyone can see your face in the mirror. Keep it that way through the whole punishment.'
'Yes Sir.'
And then the caning begun with the force Sarah has never felt before. First three strokes were the worst. As the cane cut through her soft flesh she felt all the air being squeezed out of her lungs. Burning spread so fast it soon become all her world. She struggled to keep her hands away from her bum. She knew she wasn't allowed to rub and with all her heart she didn't want to disappoint him.
As the caning continued her bum cold and her mind clearly unprepared to deal with such a pain become her enemy. Only her stubbornness allowed her to survive. With each stroke her muscles tensed and her palm tightened clutching to the edge of the desk as she managed to survive through the first six strokes. And then something begun to change. Something clicked and broke in her.
Her tears poured down her face through her closed eyes, her mind and ability to perceive external world got clouded but at the same time she felt that pain makes her feel good. The so well known feeling of catharsis was back, and become her friend that guided her through the experience.
But even with all the adrenaline pumped through her body pain was still far worse than what she was used to deal with. She was getting weaker and weaker while it became more and more difficult to keep the position. She was fighting for each breath deeply concentrated on the pain itself as he trained her.
Once the first set of 12 strokes was over it took her few second to realise there was no more blows striking her. Wave of the well known warmth surrounded her. She was divided between wanting to escape any further pain and knowing she deserves it.
She realised she has been clutching the edge of the so hard she lost feeling in her fingers. One minute of a break she had between the sets was not enough to let her recover and she knew that. When she heard the guy that asked one of the questions before asking whether he could touch her bum she was relieved to have few more seconds to rest. But Mr. Silverthorn didn't allow for it.
'There will be time for touching, squeezing and other things you might want to do to her later. Now I need to proceed with the caning to ensure the lesson will be as painful and memorable as I intend it to be.'
And with no more warnings he proceeded with the punishment. Sarah's bum wasn't cold any more, but with increasing number of marks and bruises it was of little assistance. The pain was getting worse with each stroke.
The occasional flinching after strokes developed into constant trembling as her muscles grew more tired. In order to find more comfortable position she placed her head on her hands forgetting she was supposed to keep it high nicely visible and reflected in the mirror. It took few strokes before Mr. Silverthorn realised she wasn't following the rule.
But then, 'Sarah, I can't see your head! What stroke are we at?'
Of course Sarah lost track long time ago but it didn't matter now. She knew it was a tricky question.
'Back to one...Sir,' she whispered swallowing tears. 'Second set, first stroke.'
She was too confused by pain to even realised the consequences for it. She barely made it through the half of the caning, and now, she still had 24 strokes.
'Yes, good girl. Brace yourself, and keep you head up!' his voice clearly showed his disappointment but as usually there was no anger present.
'Yes, Sir.'
She could swear some of the witness of her misery were on her site now. She could feel their sympathy so clearly as someone was holding her arm right now giving her strength. She felt proud again and grateful that he has chosen her for that demonstration, that he trusted her. She knew she could do it. She had to do it.
She disappointed him by lowering her head and she wasn't about to make the second mistake twice. She bravely opened her eyes and fixed them on the mirror. With the corner of her eye she could see the cane moving up and down assaulting her bottom. She fought to suppress flinching wanting so much to show him all the effort she was prepared to make. Wanting him to know how much it meant to her to live up to his standards.
Feeling guilty because of the failure somehow made her stronger. Once the cane started falling down onto her bum she gripped the edge of the desk as hard as possible and proudly took what was her. Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks as the pain grew worse and worse.
Sarah barely noticed when the second dozen was over and the short break came. She was in so much pain that all she could do was stay in position and do not move at all cost. Anything else was just too much for her. She could hear people talking, no doubt talking about her, but words were so blurred they didn't make any sense. She could sense though they were impressed, that they prised her achievement, and self-control, and braveness. She felt so good, so worthy. She felt that at that stage she could take anything. Anything to make Mr. Silverthorn happy and proud of her. She knew he will be, just 12 more strokes and he will say it, publicly, how proud he was. And Sarah needed to hear it so much.
She closed her eyes and braced herself for the last dozen...
(c) Lara Cornwell 2009
Like it? Email me and tell me that!
Go back to stories index
