Headstrong

The gnawing pit in the madame's stomach was a hole that she had tried to fill all week with the zealous meteing out of discipline -- deserved, and not so deserved. Even seeing her handiwork, the welts and the marks on those who had found themselves in her sights this week, the madame couldn't shake the feeling she had. 

The madame found herself worried, the Headmistress had requested a meeting, without offering details of the agenda which was unlike her. When the madame inquired, the Headmistress dismissed her question without expressing a reason.

Madame began to wonder if it was about the last faculty meeting; there were rumors that several faculty members had approached the Headmistress expressing concerns about the madame and her methods. The madame had summarily dismissed this as nothing more than chatter from a small segment of the Institute; older instructors who were jealous of the madame's power. The madame had been quite effective, even if her methods were...unorthodox. She thought about when the rumors had ramped up -- there had been talk from the moment she had arrived and been installed in her position; whispers and backhanded compliments; one of the reasons madame rarely socialized with other faculty, she simply wouldn't tolerate it. But, at a recent faculty meeting there had been a sharp exchange between the madame and a long-time, very popular, instructor, who had a much more, shall we say, generous view of the institute's code, which clashed with the madame's more strict interpretation.

The madame had always been suspicious of this particular instructor. More suspicious of them than she was of the rest of the faculty. Now, it seemed, the madame would have to answer to Headmistress for the argument that she felt she had won. And, more importantly, had been right about -- at least in her estimation.

All of this had left the madame nervous, though she would never show it. madame Penelope had a reputation to maintain after all, but despite the brave exterior, the madame feared what the Headmistress would say, or even do. Just as plenty of students, who had been left bruised and afraid, wondered what the madame could do next.

It was time to find out.

Standing in front of the Headmistress, the madame noticed the disapproving, disappointed look. A look that she had felt before, as she was being trained. It was a look that hurt the madame more than any physical punishment. The pit in her stomach grew larger, she could tell Headmistress was not happy. The madame stood, head down, hands behind her back, trying to be still -- she could feel Headmistress's gaze but dared not meet it.

The Headmistress began, asking pointed questions -- madame knew better than to deny or obfuscate. Head down, eyes averted, each answer was met with more disapproval, more correction, strong reminders of the place the madame occupied and who was truly in charge. The madame fought her urge to retort, especially when other faculty were mentioned. She ignored the instinct to fight, knowing that resistance would be met with swift and sadistic measures.

The madame had been in such a hurry, distracted by the fear and playing out different scenarios of the meeting, her normally fastidious uniform was, in a word, disheveled. Especially her stockings, which Headmistress made a clear note of. Madame knew what was coming next -- corrective action.

But Headmistress had a much bigger plan for her protege. As pleased as she was with the madame and her work, the Headmistress could not, and would not, allow discord amongst her staff. She had not witnessed the exchange between the madame and the instructor, but she had heard that it was not civil and the room was left tense. Headmistress was well aware of the madame's cutting, dismissive tone, and her salty tongue as much as she knew this instructor would not back down either.

Standing facing the wall, the madame admitted that not every student she had disciplined actually deserved it. Saying the number outloud, so matter-of-factly, surprised Headmistress.Her anger flashed momentarily --  had she created a little monster in the madame? So the punishment would be very clear: for the number of students who had been disciplined just because and for her own uniform violation, the madame would receive a significant consequence -- 140 strokes in all.

The gnawing pit in the madame stomach had been replaced by fear as Headmistress expressed her anger and disappointment at the madame's actions. The cold fear that she experienced deep in the night when she would begin to think about her place at the Institute and her position with the Headmistress. Headmistress was right, the madame could easily be dismissed. The Headmistress wouldn't lose a moment of sleep over the madame's departure. And now the madame would be punished, she would get a dose of her own medicine and, perhaps, Headmistress would allow her to remain.

Kneeling on the bench, like so many students had, madame Penelope tried to prepare herself for what was next. As she had been trained, discipline was a tool that Headmistress employed to make a point and to help the madame correct herself. But now, now that madame Penelope was in charge of discipline, had been positioned as Headmistress's protege, the discipline was going to reinforce the fact that the madame served at Headmistress's pleasure, and was there to fulfill Headmistress's vision and will -- nothing more. The madame needed to learn that she would not determine how to rule the Institute. Headmistress was very clear: the students who came to the Institute would be nurtured and trained for excellence. They would not be terrorized and left fearful. As she said this the Headmistress took aim and delivered each stroke with precision, each one becoming more intense. She watched the madame react, feeling the sting of each implement, and struggling with the knowledge that she had disappointed the Headmistress, which was even harder to take.

The pain was intense, physically and even mentally. Headmistress knew just how to strike the madame; breaking her down and pulling away the facade she kept herself wrapped in. Headmistress knew every button to push, every lever to pull to bend the madame to her will. The Madame simply could not resist -- as Headmistress pointed out, she had made the madame and she could unmake her.

The Headmistress finished soundly reddening the madame's behind, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. Headmistress reminded the madame of her place and what she expected of her. The madame was a leader and Headmistress expected her to act as such. If she could not, or would not, the Madame was free to leave. That comment, delivered so cooly, cut the madame deeply, Headmistress could see it in her demeanor. The madame was back right where the Headmistress wanted, and needed, her.

Standing again, even more exposed now, Headmistress questioned the madame's motives and whether or not there was some amount of perverted pleasure the madame took in meting out discipline, in exposing the young ladies in their care; though both knew that the Madame could do nothing about it. The madame admitted to a meanstreak but not being an outright sadist. The Headmistress considered this, and decided not to debate the point. She could tell that the madame was struggling to maintain her composure; the Headmistress noted how different the madame was in private; in public, she was self-assured, confident, even headstrong, but alone, in front of Headmistress, madame Penelope could be quite vulnerable, with a sensitive and soft side. 

Headmistress ordered the madame to the chair. Securing her, Headmistress began to torment the madame even further, insisting that if she was going to stay that she would need to change. That she could not and would not terrorize the students. The Headmistress seemed to delight in keeping the madame off balance. She watched the madame strain, trying so hard to obey and to please. Headmistress knew how fearful the madame was of losing her place, and would therefore would do whatever Headmistress asked of her. Deepening her torment, Headmistress pushed the madame further and further until she was completely pliable, she had given up any semblance of resistance or will. She took all she wanted out of the madame, ensuring the madame would fulfill the Headmistress's wishes exactly as she wanted.

The madame was thankful for being bound in the chair, she could barely hold herself together at the moment. Headmistress was soothing her now, reminding her that as her protege she was going to be held to a higher standard and that Headmistress expected the madame to come to her if she was unsure or began to feel anxious. The madame, never at a loss for words, nodded mutely, her head spinning.

Would the madame's obedience last?