Tiny Coercive : Part I

I am using `Coercive' in the title as a noun which apparently
makes no sense, but it works for me.

Part I

Olivia wiped a tear, as the wagon rolled by the last few
ramshackle homes of her village. Her mind was churning with the
sensations and memories of her life, especially the merciless
teasing she had suffered over the years, about her stature. She
began to wonder how she would be treated in the big city.

The driver was an occasional visitor to her village, buying
cottage-industry products for his business. He had spoken to her
mother many times over the past year and earlier today they had
agreed for him to take her on as a household servant in his home.
The wages would be paid mostly to her widowed mother who was
unable to support a nineteen year old midget with no marriage
prospects, along with seven younger normal sized siblings.

After traveling a ways, the horses pulling the heavily loaded
wagon began labouring harder, as they approached a hilltop range
crowned by pine trees. The trees on that ridge had been the
visual outer limit of her entire life, crossed only in her day
dreams. As the road curved into the forest, she caught a glimpse
of the entire valley and her village, including the mill on the
river where her father had been killed in a terrible accident
three short years ago.

"Papa," She cried bursting into tears.

"You saw the mill didn't you?" She nodded wiping her tears,
"Sorry about you Pa."

The other side of the ridge turned out to be more of the same;
except for a railway crossing where they stopped, while a
belching black monster thundered by. Her employer dismounted
holding the bridles to calm the horses until the noise reduced to
the click-clack of the last cars and then subsided. She had
listened to those distant whistles all her life but this was the
first time she had actually seen one of those wonders of modern
innovation.

Later they stopped at a blacksmith shop in a village, to have a
noisy wheel greased. While waiting, some children began to taunt
her, with the usual hurtful remarks about her size. Her employer
got extremely angry, slapping one, chasing them away. When he
took the reins again, she quietly thanked him. He just grunted
while cracking the whip, talking only to the horses during the
rest of the trip. Despite his gruff exterior the incident cheered
her up a little; being protected from ridicule was something only
her family had done in the past. Maybe in his household she would
be sheltered from abuse and treated like any other human being.

It was still daylight when they arrived at a large country house
on the outskirts of the city. "Wait in the wagon until I find the
stable boy," he grumbled. She sat staring at the huge stone house
until he returned and lifted her down. He then helped her up the
five steps to the front door, she could have negotiated herself.
After letting her in, he left closing the door behind him. She
was in a large foyer with a sweeping staircase and several
doorways.

"Ah, the new wench, I am the lady of the house, you will refer
to me as madam."

Olivia gasped in disbelief, staring at a midget about her own
height, wearing absolutely nothing. The woman appeared to be in
her late thirties, with pale white skin and nearly black hair
swept up in a bun. Her breasts were full and the lower part of
her somewhat distended belly was dominated by an expansive hairy
triangle. She had beautiful almond eyes but thick distinctive
eyebrows, a firm jaw and her overbearing mannerism, left her with
a strict appearance. Olivia, frozen to the floor, stared
absolutely petrified; hoping she was having a bad dream.

"What's wrong wench, have you never seen another midget?" Olivia
bashfully averted her eyes.

"I...I'm...sorry madam but you...you're naked; yes...no I never.
My...my name is,is,is Olivia."

"Follow me wench!" She obeyed; following in a trance, trying not
so watch the madam's large cheeks roll and quiver with each step.
They walked a long hallway, through a large kitchen and then into
a gloomy pantry; stocked with dry goods, cleaning implements,
linens, a small table and a wooden tub. "Undress yourself wench!"
Her harsh commanding tone could not be refused, like a sergeant
she'd once heard bellowing orders at his troops in the village.
"Did you hear me wench? I said ...get...it...off! All of
it...now!"

Olivia's mind churned in desperation between terrified obedience
and moral refusal; but hopelessly trapped she had no place to
turn. Bewildered and trembling with fear, she slowly removed her
frock and then carefully folded it on a table the madam pointed
to. "Petticoat, bloomers, off with them; now!" She cowered under
the woman's fierce stare, as her fingers nervously fumbled with
hooks and ties, slowly exposing her nakedness. Her face was by
now flushed crimson, her cheeks bathed with tears; no one except
her mother and sisters had ever seen her naked. The madam leered
unashamedly, while nodding her approval. "Sandra," she yelled, a
naked full figured Negro female about twenty-five entered.

"Yes madam," she curtsied deeply.

"Burn this pile of rags in the cook stove." She pointed at the
clothing, her eyes remaining fixated on Olivia's nude body.

"Yes madam, at once." She snatched them up, curtsied deeply
again and left the room. Olivia squeezing her thighs together,
hunched over while bashfully covering her vagina and breasts.

"But, but madam, I have nothing else to wear what...what do I?"
The madam, staring stiffly interrupted her sharply, while
pointing at a cane hanging on the wall.

"Hand me that cane wench!" Olivia, maintaining her awkward
posture hobbled to the wall, carefully lifted it off its hook,
and then returning handed it to her; still covering her vagina,
then her breasts again. In her befuddled state of mind she had no
idea what the cane was for. "Turn around, bend over and clasp
your thighs! Now wench! Arch your back; more...more; spread your
feet wider...aaah." She took a deep audible breath, "ah yes
wench, that's absolutely perfect; never...forget...this
position." Olivia obeyed, adjusting her body as ordered,
nervously digging her fingers into her flesh as she cringed in
humiliation. She had never suffered physical discipline and had
no idea why she was ordered to adopt this position.

She shuddered realizing that her crotch, that most intimate part
of her body was now wide open; her vagina, her anus, exposed to
the madam's eyes for whatever she had in mind. She heard an
unfamiliar swish, and screamed in terrified shock and pain, as
the cane slashed across and deep into her soft fleshy globes. She
instinctively rose, clutching them with her hands, screaming in
agony. "Get those hands back where they belong wench...or...I'll
lash you to within an inch of your life!" She promptly resumed
her position and then suffered three more strokes. She winced and
cried with each stroke, desperately afraid to soothe her burning
flesh.