by Jon Thorn
I have never been in a house as huge as Imogen's. It is three times the size of the orphanage and there were thirty of us living there. Imogen's house is not only large, it is beautiful as well. It is built into the side of a hill overlooking the Capitol and has rooms on many different levels. The room she has given me is lovely. It is decorated in shades of pale yellow and cream and it even has its own bathroom. The bed is soft and warm. My bunk in the orphanage was neither.
It is morning, I have just woken up. It is a week since the end of the Pain Games. Those two days left me elated but exhausted but now I am completely recovered. I lie back on the pillow and close my eyes, just enjoying the sensation of the soft cotton sheets on my naked body. I have never before enjoyed the indulgence of being able to lie in bed and daydream. The images and sensations of the arena are still very fresh in my mind. I think about Kimilly being punished after she had tried to run. The way they secured her, spread-eagled, the way Imogen caned her, showing her no mercy. In my imagination it is not her, but me, who is jerking against the ankle and wrist cuffs as the cane whips down hard across my bare bottom, everyone in the crowd looking on. I slip my hand down between my legs. I find that special place with the tip of my finger and start to gently stroke. I am so caught up in my fantasy and my excitement that I don't hear the door open.
"Lucinda," she says my name quite softly but it still makes me jump.
My eyes shoot open and I feel myself blush.
"Playing with yourself is a very naughty thing to do," she says with an amused smile.
"Yes I know," I say guiltily. In the orphanage it was very frowned on and if you were caught then it was a public strapping. 'Self-abuse' they called it.
She sits on the edge of my bed and strokes her fingers through my hair. She has been very gentle with me up until now.
"What were you fantasising about?" she asks.
"I was imagining I was Kimmily being punished for running away," I admit.
She gives a little laugh. "I don't think she'll be wanting to remember that do you?"
I shake my head.
"So it was rather wicked of you to derive so much pleasure from it. And what do wicked little girls deserve Lucinda?"
"They deserve to be spanked..." I say, the words catching in my throat as the arousal pulses through me with renewed strength. She hasn't touched me since I arrived here, but now I long for her to punish me again.
"Turn over," she orders.
I turn over onto my front. She pulls the sheet off me and I lie there naked to her gaze. She rests her open hand on my bottom. And then she starts to spank me. The smacks are hard and rapid at first, making me gasp aloud. Then she slows the rhythm, giving my left cheek four hard, smarting slaps before repeating the pattern on the other side. I can't keep still but writhe against the bed. She parts my legs and I gasp again as I feel her finger find the very place where my own had been stroking only a few moments ago. It feels ten times better when she does it. She doesn't stop spanking me, the smacks getting harder now. She rubs me fast and I hear funny little moans of excitement coming from the back of my throat. It doesn't take much more. I shudder uncontrollably as she makes me come.
"Thank you," I breathe.
"My pleasure," she says and I know that she means it. She stretches herself on the bed beside me and I snuggle into her. She holds me, one hand stroking the back of my neck, the other cupping my smarting bottom.
"You are beautiful," she says softly.
I smile. I can't think of myself as beautiful, not compared to her, but it's still lovely to hear her say it.
"How are you feeling?" she asks.
"I'm feeling rested and refreshed and just... really happy," I grin.
She gives me a kiss.
"So are you ready to venture out into the Capitol?"
"Oh yes!" I say excitedly.
"I'm pleased to hear your enthusiasm," she says. "I have plans for us today. Holli will be here shortly and then when you are dressed I am going to take you shopping. We need to get you a proper wardrobe of clothes."
It's true that I have very little to wear. I have not needed much up until now, but Imogen is right, if I am to go about with her then I need to dress as elegantly as she does.
When Imogen has gone I lie back again, a warm glow of contentment suffusing me. I cannot believe how lucky I am. I am still lying there when Holli arrives a few minutes later. She comes every day. She keeps me as smooth as I was for the Pain Games and makes sure that my hair stays the blonde shade that she chose for me. She chivvies me out of bed and into the shower.
Once I have showered I put on the clothes she has brought for me - a simple tunic and trousers. Holli does my make-up and styles my hair. I look at myself in the mirror - she has arranged my hair into a pony-tail and the way she has done my make-up gives me the same wide-eyed innocent look I had for the arena.
Imogen approves for she kisses me warmly when she comes to find me after breakfast. "Let me show you the wonders of the Capitol," she says.
It is a breath-taking morning. I saw the Capitol from the windows of the train when I first arrived but I never realised how big and busy it is. There are people everywhere, some of them dressed in the most amazing colours and styles. There are people with bright pink hair and tinted skin. I can't help but stare at them, but then many of them are staring at me. They recognise me from the Pain Games and they recognise Imogen too.
"Ignore them," Imogen says. "They aren't worth our trouble."
Her style is in complete contrast to the gaudiness we see all around us, it is a contrast that only emphasises her sophistication. The place may be gaudy but it's fascinating too. There are lots of little shops that I long to have a look in but there doesn't seem to be any time. Imogen has a schedule she is working to.
"I'd love to explore around here on my own!" I tell her enthusiastically as we hurry along the street.
She stops and takes me by both arms. She looks at me very seriously.
"The Capitol may look like an exciting and pleasant place Lucinda and in many ways it is. But it is also dark and dangerous and not somewhere a girl of your celebrity should venture on her own. Promise me you won't come here unaccompanied."
"Ok... I promise," I say, rather taken aback by her sudden sternness.
She gives me a smile and the atmosphere lightens. "Come on... it's not far to our first shop," she says.
There are a number of select shops that she takes me to. There is one for skirts, another for dresses, a third for blouses and others for shoes and hats and coats. There is even one just for underwear and she buys me all sorts of things - knickers, camisoles, corsets, bras, stockings.
The final shop is the most unexpected. It sells school uniforms.
"Why are we going in here?" I ask her. "You're not sending me to school are you?"
She laughs. "No you won't be going to school dear Lucinda. But you are going to be my pupil and I want you to dress the part."
The woman behind the counter obviously knows her. "Miss Goldthorpe!" she gushes, "What a privilege to have you in my shop again. It must be five years at least."
"Six," Imogen says. "The last time I came here I was nineteen years old and I was buying my Head Prefect uniform for the Academy. But I'm not here for myself today I'm here for this young lady."
"Is she off to the Academy too?" the woman asks.
Imogen shakes her head. "No, she is my own private pupil. But I would like her dressed as an Academy Junior."
"As you wish Miss Goldthorpe," the woman says, a subservient tone in her voice.
She opens drawers and takes things down from hanging rails. In a few minutes there is a small pile of clothes on the counter.
"Would the young lady like to try them for size?" she asks.
"Yes, she would," Imogen replies before I have the chance to say anything.
The shopkeeper leads me through to a changing room at the back of the shop. I look at what she has found for me. There is a white blouse, a pleated skirt in some sort of tartan material on a blue base, a navy blazer with yellow piping at the sleeves and collar and a flat straw hat with a navy blue ribbon. Underwear has been provided too - white cotton knickers and bra and white ankle socks. The shoes are black court shoes with a raised heel. I get dressed quickly, anxious to please Imogen. I go back out into the shop and she looks me up and down.
"Perfect," she breathes, "Just perfect... that uniform brings back so many memories. I think it would be good if you were to keep it on for our journey home. There is a navy blue coat that goes over the top that must be worn outdoors."
"And a junior must do up all her coat buttons," the shopkeeper adds enthusiastically.
"I'm well aware of the regulations," Imogen replies icily.
She pays for the uniform and we leave the shop. It takes her only a moment for the vehicle to pull up. We get in the back. Her hand slips beneath my new coat and rests on my thigh. It feels nice to have her touch.
When we are back in the house I take off my coat but keep the rest of the uniform on since Imogen seems to like me in it so much. She pulls me down onto a sofa next to her.
I am curious about what she said in the shop. "What is the Academy?" I ask.
"You are curious," she smiles.
I nod.
"The Academy is the most prestigious girls' school in the Capitol. It is only for the best of the best. It takes girls your age and educates them for three years. It is the highest quality schooling that one can get."
"What did you learn there?"
She smiles again. "Many, many things but two things most of all. Firstly, I learned who I am, the nature of my character. Secondly, I learned to love the cane."
"You were caned?" I ask in surprise. It's hard to imagine Imogen being on the receiving end.
She gives a little laugh. "Only the once. Once was enough to convince me that I never wanted to experience it again. But it was also enough to show me that if such perfect pain could be delivered with such a simple implement then I wanted to be the one who was wielding it. The Academy gave me that chance and it was a chance I relished. In my final year I was Head Prefect, the most senior pupil in the school and granted almost unlimited disciplinary powers."
I imagine her as Head Prefect and feel a tingle of excitement run through me.
"Were you very strict?" I ask, although I know the answer.
"Oh yes," she breathes softly, "Very strict indeed. I made it my goal to cane every junior girl in the school at least once during my tenure."
"Did you succeed?"
"Of course. Some girls tried so very hard to be good but I always managed to get them on something in the end. A button undone, a scuffed shoe, a hair ribbon out of place... little things, but enough to warrant a visit to my study."
"You must have been very unpopular."
"I didn't want to be popular, I wanted to be feared."
I swallow hard. Just talk of the cane is exciting me.
"How did you do it? What was the routine."
She smiles, like a cat that has got the cream.
"I think it would be easier to show you than to tell you, especially as you are dressed the part."
"Ok," I say, suddenly fearful as well as excited.
"Come to my study in twenty minutes time. Knock on the door and wait for me to call you in."
The twenty minutes I have to wait seem like an age. I know she is going to cane me and that excites me. But it also scares me. She won't hold back and I know it is going to hurt an awful lot. I look at myself in the mirror dressed in my Academy uniform. I imagine all the Capitol girls who have worn an outfit like this. All the girls who were at the school when Imogen was head prefect. The naughty ones who deserved to be punished and the good girls who must have done all they could to avoid getting in trouble but got caned nonetheless. What must it have been like to be one of them, waiting to go and see Imogen, aware that in a few minutes time you would be emerging from her room sore and tearful?
I check the clock for the umpteenth time. I swallow hard. The minutes have ticked by. I must go to the study and get what I both long for and dread.
My knees are already shaking as I ascend the stairs. The study door is closed. I knock tentatively. Silence. Maybe she hasn't heard me? Maybe I didn't knock loud enough? I knock again, loudly, too loudly! Imogen flings the door open.
"I told you to knock and wait," she snarls. "Are you incapable of following simple instructions, girl?"
"No... no... I just didn't think you'd heard..." I say desperately. She seems very annoyed.
"Get in here now!" she orders.
I scurry past her into the study and turn to face her. It is only then that I realise that she is in school uniform too. But her uniform is different to mine. Her skirt is black and short. She has white blouse and striped tie. Her blazer is shorter too, and trimmed with white braid. My socks are short and white, hers knee-length and black. She is wearing very high heels and in her right hand is a cane.
She looks me up and down, a sneer on her face.
"Lucinda Colquen," she says slowly. "Little miss good girl. Little miss perfect. You may fool the teachers but you don't fool me. I know what a horrid, nasty, good for nothing worm you really are. I've been waiting for this chance, I've been watching you girl. And then this morning you gave me what I've been looking out for." She steps closer and runs her finger along my top lip. "You're wearing make-up aren't you?" she says triumphantly.
"Holli put it on me..." I reply quickly.
"Don't try to blame someone else," she snaps. "You know that make-up, even a smear of make-up isn't allowed for snivelling little junior girls like you. I think you are getting above yourself Lucinda, I think you need to be taken down a peg or two. And I know just the way to do it." She gives the cane a little swish through the air.
She is wonderful in her nastiness. I can see exactly how she must have been at the Academy, they must have been really scared of her. I am very wet even though she hasn't laid a finger on me yet.
"Lift your skirt," she orders.
I reach down and take the hem of my school skirt. I inch it up slowly.
"All the way," Imogen says. "I want it up above your hips."
She places the cane on the desk and seats herself in a chair in front of it.
"Come here," she beckons. I step forward. "Closer."
I stand right in front of her.
"I want to hear you tell me what a naughty little girl you are and how much you deserve to be punished," she says.
I take a deep breath. "I'm a very naughty, wicked little girl," I say softly. "And I thoroughly deserve to be punished."
She nods. "And what punishment do you deserve Lucinda?"
"The c...c...cane," the word catches in my throat.
"Yes indeed. You do deserve to have your bare bottom caned. So ask nicely."
I take another deep breath. "Please cane my bare bottom."
"You can do better than that girl, try again."
"Please... pull down my knickers and cane me."
"Not good enough - try again."
Her hands go to the waistband of my white cotton knickers.
"I'm a naughty little girl who deserves to be punished," I say. I shiver as I feel her start to pull my knickers down. "Please pull down my knickers and cane my bare bottom..."
"Again," she orders.
Having to ask like this is really starting to get to me, I am almost trembling with excitement.
"I'm a very naughty, horrid, wicked little girl," I murmur. "Please pull down my knickers and give me what I deserve. Please cane my bare bottom."
I feel my knickers tugged down to my ankles.
"How hard do you deserve to be caned Lucinda?"
"Quite hard?" I venture.
She shakes her head.
"Hard?" I offer.
She shakes her head again.
"Very, very hard," I admit.
"Precisely," she says softly. She runs her hand up the inside of my thigh. She touches me with her index finger, just the slightest, gentlest of touches, but it almost makes me faint with pleasure.
"I think I'll make you wait," she declares. "You aren't quite ready yet."
"I am, I am," I say quickly.
She slaps the back of my thigh. It stings and it makes me jump. I give a little yelp of pain, more in surprise than anything.
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