Content warnings for this story (click here for guide):
Mr Prestwick paced around, regarding his ward with satisfaction.
“Yes, I think this illustrates my point well.”
Lily’s blindfold itched. Even in darkness, she could feel his eyes scanning her up and down.
“Please,” she tried. “I’m sorry. Really sorry. Can I change now?”
Mr Prestwick paused in front of her.
“Whyever would I let you do that?”
“I…I just…”
“You were quite happy to act the part earlier, texting the local lads and sending them dirty photos of yourself,” said Mr Prestwick. “I just thought you should be dressed to match your behaviour.”
“Two pictures! And, like, half a dozen messages! That was all – I swear!”
Mr Prestwick ignored the protestation, and Lily heard him walk an even circle around her.
“Yes, I must say this get-up suits you rather well, Lily. Let me show you what I mean.”
He placed a make-up bag in her hands, then steered her across to the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door. Chuckling, he removed the blindfold.
Lily’s heart flipped as she took in her appearance.
She was wearing a tight pink plastic crop top with “Slut In Training” emblazoned across it. Her tiny tits were squeezed together where the fabric plunged in the centre. From there, her bare midriff ended in a blue tartan micro-mini skirt, which covered almost none of her thighs. She had felt the stockings being drawn up her legs and clipped into a lace suspender belt, but seeing them was something else. Her feet were locked into excruciatingly high glossy black heels, which forced her bottom to stick out; this was all the more embarrassing since she had been forbidden panties.
A white leather dog collar had been padlocked around her neck. The jingling silver tag bore her name.
“Now then,” said Mr Prestwick, standing behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. “Let’s put on some make-up. After all, if you’re going to be a little whore, you ought to make an effort.”
“I’m not! I’m not!” shouted Lily, and tried to wriggle free of his grip.
“Are we going to be difficult, Little Slut?” asked Mr Prestwick. “Because if we are, I’d be only too happy to give you some scarlet cane stripes on your naughty little bottom.”
Lily froze. “N-no….”
“I think we should probably give you six, just to make a point,” said Mr Prestwick, unhooking the cane from the coatstand. “Touch your toes, Lily, and stay in position or I’ll start again.”
Lily gritted her teeth and reached down, dropping the makeup bag. She wobbled precariously on the impossible heels. The micro-skirt offered no protection, and the cool air skimmed her exposed bottom.
The cane tapped and stroked her bottom, and she winced as it was drawn up the little valley between her buttocks. There was a pause as the nudging wooden tip was removed, and then the pain landed.
CRACK!
“AGH!” she gasped, nearly falling forward. But the busy little cane was already mapping its next move.
CRACK!
“Mmmphhh!” The fire was unbearable!
CRACK!
“MMMMPHPHHHAGH!” The strokes fell almost on top of one another, compounding the agony.
CRACK!
Lily struggled to grip her ankles, shivering and fighting herself, her legs trembling.
CRACK!
“AGHHHH! AGHHHHHHH!” Just one more, she thought. One more!
CRACK!
Thank god, thank god, thank GOD!
“Well taken, Lily!” praised Mr Prestwick. “One would almost think you were learning to obey me! Up you get, and let’s finish getting you ready.”
Lily stood up woozily and looked back into the mirror. Her hair was tangled and her face blotchy. Her guardian picked up the makeup bag and rooted around, considering the contents. Finally he pulled out a blusher brush and red palette. He dipped the brush liberally in the pigment.
“Head up, please!” he said cheerily. The brush prickled gently as he saturated her cheeks with colour, dipping back into the red tray again and again until he was satisfied. Staring at her reflection, Lily blushed for real beneath the huge, clownish smudges.
Next came red lipstick, which was daubed on messily, leaving Lily with the mouth of a child who’d eaten too many blackberries.
Mr Prestwick did not brush her hair, but tied a huge red ribbon loosely into the tangle on one side. Lily’s eyes stung. She looked like a used My First Whore doll.
“I’d like you to tell me what you see in the mirror. I know what I see, but I’d like to hear you say it.”
Lily’s lip trembled as his hand pressed the burning lines across her bottom.
“I see…”
“Go on, unless you need some more encouragement.”
A tear rolled down Lily’s cheek.
“I see…a slut. I look like a slut.”
“That’s right. You look like a little slut. It’s just dress-up today, but I want you to know that if I catch you sending filthy messages to boys again, you’ll be running errands about town for me dressed like this. And you’ll have fresh cane marks every trip – bright red, like your cheeks.”
Lily whimpered at the prospect, and cupped her sore bottom.
“Now, do a little turn in front of the glass, so you can see what all the townsfolk would see,” said Mr Prestwick.
She obeyed, only just able to look. As she turned, the miniskirt rode right up, revealing her shaved pussy, underscored with six angry marks.
“I think we know what they’d make of a girl like that, don’t we?” said her guardian. “And if they asked me, I’d explain it was your punishment and tell them why you were dressed like this. Because you’re a little girl playing at being a little slut, aren’t you?”
Lily nodded, her hair ribbon rustling as she hung her head.
“And in case you get lost on your wanderings,” continued Mr Prestwick. “I’ve even printed my return address on the back of your collar tag.”
Lily grabbed the tag and flipped it. Sure enough, she had a ‘return to’ address, just like a pet.
“Have I made my point?” Mr Prestwick said.
Lily nodded again.
“Excellent,” said her guardian. “I’ll write up the incident in full, but if you’re good, I won’t add it to your public report. You wouldn’t want your sentencing officer to think you needed longer with me, would you?”
Lily looked up, eyes wide.
“I thought not,” said Mr Prestwick. “I’ll just keep it as a memento for now. Because you are going to be very good for me, Lily.”
He squeezed her punished bottom, then patted it before replacing the cane on its hook.
“Oh yes,” he said, as he closed the door behind him. “A perfect little angel.”