by Alan Raison
She held up the nightwear; pink pyjamas with white teddy bears printed on them and said; “What the fuck are these?”
Jamila Short smiled. “That’s what you wear at night, lovely aren’t they?”
“I’m not wearing these; they’re for ten year olds. They’re fucking ridiculous.” She held them up in front of her, a bit of spirit back in her eyes.
“Exactly what I said, I’ve always slept naked anyway, so I just ignored them. The next morning Miss Davies, she’s the skinny red head, put me over the end of the bed and gave me three with the strap. Now I think they’re the height of fashion. But it’s your backside.” As if to demonstrate Jamila took off her uniform, carefully hung it up and slipped on the pyjamas, “Look on the bright side, at least your skin isn’t as dark as mine.”
A small smile crossed Catherine’s face; the contrast of Jamila’s dark skin and the pink pyjamas was striking to say the least. She looked at them again and sighed, like everything else here she didn’t have a choice.
He cut to Corina’s dorm, coming in just as he closed the door, Julie Gibson, aka Janice Howard, stood there holding the packages presented to her, trembling slightly. Amanda stepped up immediately and hugged her; she really was affected by other people’s pain.
“Hi, I’m Amanda, call me Mandy, and this is Cori, Corina.” She relieved her of the packages and put them on Isabella’s old bed.
Janice looked around her, three beds, three bedside cabinets, a sink, a mirror and hooks on the wall, which were white with no pictures or anything else to break the monotony, lighting was a harsh fluorescent light. She looked at Amanda, who smiled back at her with a big friendly grin on her face, and Corina who perched on her bed, a worried look on her face.
Nervously Amanda pointed to the bed. “This is your bed, it was Isabella’s, but now I guess it’s yours.”
“What happened to Isabella?” Sold into sex slavery, locked in a dungeon somewhere so that a man could torture her at his pleasure. The answer surprised her.
Amanda shrugged her shoulders. “We don’t really know, last week she had to wait hand and foot on everybody, this week she’s a tutor and we have to call her Miss Parker-Davies. Her Uncle is the Foreign Secretary; I think he’s pulled strings to get her the job.”
“That doesn’t make sense Mandy, he wouldn’t have let her suffer here for three months and then put her in a position of power, besides he wouldn’t stand for it.” Corina smiled and stood up, “Bet you got a sore bum. Let’s get some cream on it, help you sleep tonight.”
“Who wouldn’t stand for it?” Janice asked.
“The Headmaster,” Amanda replied. “He runs this place, he left you here.”
“The sadistic bastard who tied me to a frame and whipped me because I objected to a load of perverts feeling me up on the way here? Then made me come with his fingers, and then got a girl no older than me to do it again?” Janice’s voice was filed with venom and became more and more shrill as she went on.
Corina looked at the complaining girl and then said; “Oh, you’ve met him then.” Amanda gave out a stifled laugh.
That was the catalyst that broke what reserve Janice had left and tears began to flow down her cheeks and heaving sobs came form deep within her. Corina went up and hugged her, “Sorry Julie, but you have to find the humour in a place like this or you’ll go nuts. Let’s sort out that sore arse of yours.”
She pushed her towards the bed and began to unbutton her blouse at the same time. Janice gripped her hands; “what are you doing?”
“Just helping you off with your blouse and skirt, you don’t want to get cream on them or you’ll start the day with a spanking, not a good way to start trust me, I’ve been there.”
Janice shook off her hands and removed her skirt and blouse and Amanda told her to hang them up because creased clothing got you a spanking as well.
“Mandy knows all about that as well, don’t you honey,” Corina said. “She was your classic messy teenager before coming here. The only hanger she knew was the floor, but not any more.”
Clothes hung up Amanda pushed Janice onto the bed face down, and peeled her panties down. Janice gave out a little moan, it seemed to her everybody had the right to undress and feel her as they pleased.
Corina put her head close to Janice’s.
“Shush, shush, this stuff works wonders, brings out the bruising and takes away the sting. But you can’t do it yourself; you need your friends for this.”
Amanda squirted a small amount onto each cheek and they began to gently work it into the damaged skin. Janice stopped wriggling and relaxed as they worked their way down her buttocks, their fingers tucking in under the crease and massaging the tops of her thighs.
Amanda looked at her friend as she manipulated the skin of Janice’s backside. “Why is the Headmaster coming back for you Cori, have you done something wrong?”
Corina gave her friend a wan smile. “I don’t know, better save some of this cream just in case.” She leaned across and kissed her on the lips, since Isabella had gone they had got a lot closer, and Amanda worried about everybody. “I’ll be fine, probably a quick spanking and I’ll be back and you can take care of me.”
Janice looked down at them. “How can you be so casual about this? This man has too much power for one person, what if he whips you so hard he damages you, who do you tell?”
Corina patted her bum, “When you’ve been here for a while you’ll see that the staff here have rules they have to stick to as well. It’s harsh here but the Headmaster runs a tight and fair ship. Besides, it’s been a while since I had a decent fuck, I bet he’s good at it.”
“Ugh! Cori he’s a bit old isn’t he?” Amanda said.
“Experienced, is probably a better description, I think. Jealous Mandy?”
“No way, although I reckon he’s got a good body though,” she replied.
Janice could take no more and lifted herself up on her elbows.
“Stop it both of you; he’s a perverted sadist who enjoys hurting people, a tool of a corrupted government, which needs to be sent back to the gutter where it belongs.”
There was a deep silence and Corina looked at Amanda and raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘what was all that about?’ They kept on working her bottom and eventually heard a little snore coming from her; she had dropped into an exhausted sleep.
The Headmaster snorted, ‘he’s a bit old, isn’t he’, his mother was right; eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves. Besides, he lived by the old joke; ‘You’re only as old as the girl you feel’, which meant he was about twenty.
He jumped forward to Corina’s return; as soon as she entered Amanda jumped up and hugged her, then pushed her back and looked in her eyes. “You’ve had sex,” she said. “And is that scented soap I smell?”
“Yes Miss Marple, I had sex with him and Issi as well.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face; she hadn’t felt so relaxed since the visit of her son.
“What! She was there as well? What happened?”
Corina began to tell Amanda all about her time in the Headmaster’s room, even after the lights cut out. He could hear rustling as Corina changed into her pyjamas and could see them get on the bed together; he left them to it and turned off the recording.
He turned to his emails and found one from Sally Willis’s assigned parole officer, an old friend of his, Mark Sturgis. He said he would arrive at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon, to pick her up.
He would tell Sally after lunch so she could say goodbye to her fellow wards and to prove that girls were released eventually, then he would have her in the office, spanked and naked for when Mark arrived with her civilian clothes.
He glanced at the clock, there was about half an hour to go on the service so it was time to quiz the new wards on the rules of the Academy. Amoke Edo was giving a
reading when he entered, her thick Nigerian accent a bit of a problem to follow, so he sat at the back and waited for her to finish.
Once she had sat down he walked to the front and called Janice, Mya, and Catherine to stand in front of the pews. With yesterday fresh in their minds they came out from the seats without hesitation and stood silently at the front under the eyes of the other wards.
“Yesterday you were given a set of Academy rules to memorise, now I am going to ask you to tell me what five of those rules are. For each one wrong you will receive three strokes of the tawse.” Three sets of eyes fell to the floor as they took in his words.
He fixed Mya with his eyes and asked his questions. There would be easy ones in there, like Rule One, ‘obedience at all times’, or Rule Five ‘no rubbing until allowed’, but they rarely remembered the more obscure ones like, Rule Nineteen, ‘be attentive to your tutors at all times’, or, Rule Eleven, ‘only minimum make up to be worn at all times’.
Just to raise the tension after Mya had given him five answers he told her to stand to one side, but didn’t tell her how she had got on. He went through the same procedure with Catherine and Janice. Then he called Mya back in front.
“Chang, you got two wrong, six with the tawse.” Mya gave a little sob as he bent her forwards and pulled down her panties, leaving her naked backside on display in front of the rest of the wards. Marie, already primed by Donna, came forward with the tawse and delivered six hits on Mya’s backside. Through tears, sobs and little choking sounds, Mya managed to number the strokes and thank Marie for her punishment afterwards. Then it was hands on head, back to the wards so they could see the punished bottom.
Janice was next, also two wrong, Isabella took the tawse off Marie and swung her strikes in as hard as she could. Isabella’s aim was not perfect yet so two of the blows fell on Janice’s thighs instead. Janice managed to hold it together and forced herself to thank Isabella for her punishment, and then went and joined Mya in displaying her backside for all to see.
Finally Catherine, her heart sank as he said. “Pope, four wrong, twelve strokes.”
“Nooo! No please, please I can do better, really I can!” She began to back away, looking for escape. The Headmaster grabbed her arm and she began to kick out, trying to escape. He pulled her feet from out under her and she fell to the ground, wriggling desperately to try to get out of his iron grip. A quick word from Donna and Marie brought forward a punishment frame, slightly different from the one in the shower block. This time the ward was strapped in upright, holes in the bottom allowed the feet to poke through, and a little indentation at the top held up the chin so she could see the audience watching her. The frame itself was bowed so the backside protruded slightly to give a clearer target for the punisher. It took all four of them to strap her in and once Catherine was secure the Headmaster turned to the other wards, some of whom were crying.
“At the start of this exercise I said three strokes for each incorrect answer, and four incorrect answers means the Pope will receive twelve strokes. No more, no less.” He looked at the other two new wards, “Gibson, Chang, take your seats.”
They quickly pulled up their panties and hurried back to their seats. Catherine began to moan loudly.
“Miss Grey, a gag please.” Donna pulled Catherine’s head back with a handful of hair and pushed a ball gag into her mouth, tying it off at the rear.
“As Pope will not be able to count the strokes I will expect all of you to do it for her. Any ward that closes her eyes whilst Pope is getting her deserved punishment will be next up here on the stage, do I make myself clear.”
A scattered response of, ‘Yes Sirs ’came back to him and he nodded at Marie. “Miss Jones, three strokes please.”
Licking her lips and looking even more nervous than before, Marie went and stood to one side of the weakly struggling ward. Raising the tawse Marie‘s first blow struck her across the meat of her backside, Catherine let out a scream only barely muffled by the gag. Marie sent in her next two strikes in the same place, herself shaking and needing to get it over with.
The assembled wards counted each blow as it landed. Sobs interspersed with the numbers. He looked at the wards, some had their hands clenched and flinched as the strikes came in. He knew he would have their full co-operation this afternoon for the cleaning.
Isabella replaced her and seeing Marie’s marks aimed her three blows above them. A continual wailing came from Catherine now, the occasional plea could be heard from behind her gag. Donna stepped up and directed her three strikes underneath Marie’s, after the third blow Catherine went quiet, she had fainted.
The Headmaster took the tawse and waited patiently while Donna waved smelling salts under the ward’s nose and once he was sure that Pope was awake and aware, he delivered his punishment to the tops of her thighs. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted again.
She was unstrapped from the frame and her hands secured in front of her. The smelling salts were employed again and when she came round Donna and Isabella pulled her to her feet and turned towards the audience so they could see the state of her backside. Red, purple and black lines covered her from top to bottom. Catherine hung almost senseless in the two tutors’ arms.
The Headmaster faced the rest of the wards; he was going to drive home the lesson learnt here.
“There are no easy rides here, Miss Pope had twenty-four hours to learn the rules and obviously didn’t try very hard. She has now paid the price, a very painful price.” He stopped and held the silence for a moment. All that could be heard was the occasional sob and heavy breathing.
“I and my staff will teach you to try your best in everything you do, or you will suffer the consequences. Now, the nominated wards will follow Miss Jones to the kitchen to prepare lunch and the rest of you will follow me to the dining room.”
Marie started to walk towards the door and three wards followed her quickly, they couldn’t wait to get out of there. As the Headmaster came from the front the rest of the wards scrambled to get in a single line behind him, nobody wanted to be accused of being slow to follow orders.
Catherine, still moaning behind her gag, was taken out of another door to the infirmary where Donna and Isabella strapped her face down on a bed, covered her bruised backside with cream, and Donna gave her a sedative that would let her sleep all afternoon.
The Headmaster sat down at the top table and looked at the wards sat at the long benches waiting for their bland, but healthy, lunch. Instead of spreading out like they normally did, just to give themselves a little elbow room, they were all sitting pressed together as if for mutual protection. Lucy Harris came in and sat down next to him.
She immediately felt the atmosphere in the room.
“Has there been a major punishment, Sir?” she whispered, annoyed that she had missed it.
“One of the new wards, Catherine Pope, got four of the rule questions wrong, twelve with the tawse.”
“Wish I had been there, but my record is still safe then?” Lucy had deliberately answered all five wrong on her second day and got fifteen with a heavy strap.
“It’s unlikely to be broken, Lucy.” He glanced at his Gym Mistress, who had fought him for three months of her sentence until he has sent her to clean the Lodge. She came back changed after that, although from the bruises Bilic and Yannik had, she hadn’t given up that easily. “Who do you want to clean the gym?”
“Linda Rowe, of course,” the overweight Rowe was a personal project of Lucy’s, she planned to send her from here a lot fitter and slimmer. “How about one of the new girls, and any other?”
“You can have Gibson but you’ll have to avoid her backside, I’m going to need her to recover a little before I have a chat with her, and Watra, okay?”
Lucy nodded and watched as the kitchen wards delivered the food trays to the tables. The other tutors sat down and
the Headmaster signalled that they could eat. Once the empty trays had been cleared he stood up and nineteen pairs of eyes turned his way.
“The cleaning assignments are as follows. Rowe, Gibson, and Watra, you will follow Miss Harris. Moxon, Poole and James, you are with Miss Grey. Willis, Smith, Andovich and Hart, you are with Miss Davies. Murphy, Turner and Edo, you are with Miss Parker-Davies. Standish, Wallace and Short, you are with Miss Jones. Chang, Salmir, Macleod and Ogleu, you are with me. Get changed and find your supervisor.”
Anna dropped a pile of smocks onto the table and the girls began to strip off their uniforms including socks, panties and shoes folding everything neatly they left them in a neat pile on the table. The smocks were simple one piece garments; one size fitted all - in theory. In fact Linda Rowe’s rode so high all her large backside was on show all the time, she continually pulled at it trying to make it longer. Alison Moxon had the same problem as she was so tall, he stepped forward and slapped their hands, telling them not to stretch them. He watched for a moment longer and then took Isabella and Marie to the back of the room.
“Ready to go solo, ladies?” he asked.
“Yes Sir,” they both replied.
“Good, you’ve both done the cleaning so you know what it’s all about. Take a paddle each and remember, they are for encouragement only, any serious infringements, you report to me,” he passed a hand under each skirt and squeezed their bottoms. “Understood?”
“Yes Sir.”
He slapped them lightly and pushed them back towards their cleaning crews.
“Good! Isabella, I want you to clean the entrance foyer and the staff room. Marie, I want you to clean the orientation room and the corridor outside the dorms. Go!” The dorms were the wards’ responsibility, he had random checks take place to keep them on their toes.
The two tutors left, leading their wards in to the kitchen where they would pick up a basket of cleaning materials.
“Miss Grey, the infirmary and the laundry, please. Miss Davies, this room and the kitchen as you, have four helpers you can do my office as well.” He looked at his three wards and said. “We are going to do the showers, follow me.”