Strictland Academy

by Carolyn Faulkner

  The Matron paddled poor April with gusto, delivering more swats to the girl's behind in the space of a few seconds than any of the three girls had received in all of their corrections combined. There was no sign of stopping as she lectured, "Slut fornicators don't have any right in this institution to complain in any way about their treatment. You will submit to whatever it is that the doctor—or anyone else in authority over you—wants to do to you, without question, and most certainly without complaint."

  Before Dr. Wells was able to physically bypass the other man's tank-like body, April was clearly defeated, slumping in wordless, sobbing submission as her body gave into the punishing blows raining down onto her bedraggled behind. Dr. Wells was finally able to push past Dr. Krouse and stepped between the matron and her victim. He snatched the paddle out of her hand, snapping the wicked instrument in half before throwing it to the floor.

  "This action is abusive and completely unnecessary! The child is terrified and has obviously never undergone this type of evaluation before, regardless of what you think her sexual encounters have been. What you are imposing upon her is not reform, you stupid twit! Just what the bloody hell do you think she would remember out of this experience? You preach self-control, but you teach cruelty and hatred. This must stop now!"

  The broad-shouldered Attendant Angela peered down her nose from a height one inch taller than the man's 5'10" frame. "As a newcomer to our institution, it will take some time for you to understand and embrace our rehabilitation methods. These girls are criminals, with no respect for, or fear of, either authority or consequences. We are determined to make an imprint in their heart and minds that Strictland is a place where they will never want to return to, and that the placement with a husband is much more preferable to being here. We make that impact where nature intended, upon the very place where they sit as they contemplate their lives. We never harm their faces or any other significant body part. The pain we deliver now is much kinder than the pain that comes from a ruined life. This is not a place for either the weak-willed or for a delicate stomach, Doctor."

  "I assure you that I am neither weak nor delicate," Dr. Wells growled, unflinchingly. "I do question excessive punishment when the conditions call for something more reasonable. Abuse does not rehabilitate. It only causes more violence and more crimes. Our society has already suffered because of that mentality."

  "Save your soft-hearted beliefs for those that need to hear them. I reiterate that these girls are hardened rebels, determined to destroy their own lives and the reputations of their families with their selfish, carnal desires. Each has broken the law and the fact that they have allowed themselves to be penetrated makes them accessories to the crime of fornication without a permit.”

  “Not all women agree to penetration,” Dr. Wells hissed. “That is why rape is punishable to a man by execution. You cannot blame these girls for things that were likely not in their control.”

  “They did something to encourage it. They are not innocent in any of this.”

  “Excuse me? Are you so ignorant to think that they are at fault for being overpowered? What were they to do afterwards? Report it? The fact they were penetrated would have placed them in a life-sentence!”

  “They should consider themselves fortunate that, because of their appearance, the courts spared them from the State penitentiary. You had also best remember that your jurisdiction in this facility is limited to the psychiatric and medical condition of the inmates. Nothing more. I don't care whom you are related to, or the fact you are here to cover licensing issues for state compliance. You will answer to the Matrons, not the other way around. And you will never, ever interfere with our chastisement of an inmate."

  "These girls are here to learn to be better citizens, not to be beaten within an inch of their lives by some perverse sadistic woman with delusions of grandeur. As for carnal natures, explain how a virgin ended up here. This is something that must be reported to the licensing board."

  "Let me warn you, Dr. Wells," the woman leaned towards him, "we have ways of keeping people silent around here. There are no phones except in the headmaster's office, and no one can leave the facility without permission. We are a good fifty miles from any modern road and located in very hazardous terrain, discouraging anyone from either entering or leaving this facility. Without a vehicle, you are a prisoner here, just like these girls. And you cannot obtain a vehicle without a pass. Can you take a guess who is responsible to issue those passes? That would be me. I have the feeling that you will be remaining here just as long as these girls, and if you don't watch yourself, you will also be facing the end of my cane. It has been a long time since I brought a stubborn little boy to his knees, begging my forgiveness."

  Before Dr. Wells could reply, the woman turned to address the older physician. "I'll just stay right here in the corner and out of your way, if you don't mind, Doctor Krouse. You might need my assistance in case she decides to give you more trouble. This one is tricky. She needs to be watched even more vigilantly than the rest."

  “That's fine, Attendant Angela. We appreciate your diligence,” the old doctor replied, nervously licking his lips as he glanced at the angry, red face of his associate.

  The speculum was returned to April's tight orifice and slowly ratcheted open. The girl wept piteously as the Pap smear was performed, trying to obey the order for quiet. Additional adjustment of the blades elicited a short, sharp, “Ah!” followed by a loud, long "Stop!"

  Before the word died on her lips, April was again flipped to her stomach and a small, thin strap appeared from another pocket in the matron's dress. The leather was applied ten times with vigor and intensity, as April was scourged verbally. Both of the methods found their marks unerringly, reducing the shy young woman to a limp ball of squelched misery.

  Dr. Krouse resumed his probing immediately upon her being returned to the correct position, pleased to see that the vaginal instrument had not fallen from its place. He removed it abruptly and replaced it with two sausage-like fingers, thrusting them rhythmically in and out as he pressed down on her lower belly.

  “What did you detect in her breasts during your exam, Dr. Wells? Anything?" he asked casually, his eyes darting towards the matron.

  Dr. Wells noticed the gesture. "Nothing of any note beyond the fact that her nipples peaked and her areolas darkened slightly. That is a normal physiological response to any stimulant, but does not necessarily mean that she was aroused," the other man responded crisply, ignoring Attendant Angela’s derisive snort.

  "Would you be interested in repeating your experiment with this one's breasts, or would you prefer the nurse to take over?" Dr. Krouse asked, raising an eyebrow at the young physician.

  "I will do it. I suspect her experience to be limited, so it would be interesting to gauge her reaction," the man said stiffly, squeezing April's hand in reassurance.

  “Very well. Nurse Boynton, start timing please,” Dr. Krouse commanded, extending his fingers imperiously for lubrication. He placed his knowing fingertips upon April's clit. After a minute of expert manipulation, he spoke out: "Report, Dr. Wells?"

  “Pupils are large, she's flushed and breathing erratically. She appears to be confused regarding the response of her body. She seems to be fighting against her release."

  “She is trying to convince us that she is innocent. I have seen this before. They like to prolong the pleasure."

  "I doubt it. Her expression implies ..."

  "Unbelievable! You are wasting my precious time with your gentleness," Attendant Angela spat at Dr. Wells, shoving him roughly out of the way. She stood at April's head. "Do as you're expected, girl, or I'll flay your behind for the rest of the day!”

  "I don't believe she knows what you want of her. And if you ever push me again, I promise I will knock your fat ass onto the floor, you old crone!" Dr. Wells barked, balling his fists.

  "We'll see, young man," Attendant Angela hissed. "Look at me, girl. I have a belt in my desk with metal studs se
t into it in it that I'm going to be sure you'll make the acquaintance of eventually, but if you don't obey Dr. Krouse immediately, it's going to be much sooner than you think!”

  She jabbed Dr. Wells solidly in the flank with her elbow, causing him to transfer his protective hands from April's breasts to his kidney region. The matron reached down and pinched one of the nipples viciously, twisting it in her hand as she tried to wrap it around her fingers. That unexpected action, combined with the old man's fingers flicking a spot that had never been previously touched, sent April's body rocketing to the sun. Every inch was euphorically bathed in ecstasy, and the atrocious condition of her behind momentary forgotten for several blissful seconds.

  “You have good instincts, Attendant Angela,” the doctor complimented.

  “She's a slut, and they often respond to pain that way. It has to be beaten out of them carefully, to assure that no pleasure is imparted by the punishment."

  The doctor smiled. "I have no doubt you'll find a way to do that, Angela, and that the girl will be much the better for your efforts on her behalf."

  "Oh, she will. As will anyone else who challenges me," Attendant Angela looked straight at the frowning, angry face of Dr. Wells, as she gave April one more warning nipple twist before leaving the room.

  CHAPTER 4

  Every inch of their bodies, both inside and out, throbbed painfully, as the three were marched to Headmaster Judas's office. Like all the other rooms, it was dingy and drab, furnished for practicality and not comfort or warmth. There were no family pictures, no carpeting, and the furnishings were limited to a single desk, chair and bookcase. A plain white-faced clock ticked on one wall, and the Book of Declarations was laid open on top of the scratched, worm-holed desk.

  Attendant Hazel set the files atop the scarred surface and positioned the girls with instructions to remain at attention. She administered swats with one of her readily available implements until their stances conformed to her exacting demands. Before she departed, she untied their wrists and left them with a warning: “Wait here for the Headmaster. Do not move a muscle. Your backsides will not be able to tolerate much more punishment today."

  When he entered, the Headmaster paused to silently study the condition of their bare bottoms, not physically touching them as he demanded they bend over the edge of the desk. He made several comments about their bruises, including the area covered, the different shapes of the marks, and the various shades of red that had been achieved. He ordered them to return to attention and retrieved an enormous leather, guitar-shaped paddle from his desk drawer.

  “Remain at attention, girls. I want you to lace your fingers tightly behind your head and spread your legs as wide as you can without losing balance or falling forward."

  Pain and fear prevented their rapid compliance to his instructions. Tsking, he swatted each of them with the large implement, its considerable size catching both raw cheeks at once. The three hastened to do as instructed, yet he continued to slap their bottoms with casual indifference. Each was corrected after receiving at least three harsh smacks that caught the underside of their cheeks. They struggled not to wobble and repeatedly failed. Finally satisfied with their positions, the man placed the big leather paddle on his desk and sat down. He laced his fingers together and leaned forward to talk, the light catching the clouded scars in his eyes.

  “You girls have each conducted a severe transgression that resulted in your placement into the criminal justice system. You're barely legal adults, and your small misbehaviors have grown to amazing proportions. Things such as staying out past curfew, defiance and rebellion towards your parents or another authority figure, use of foul language, use of alcohol, or taking up with someone of questionable character, eventually graduated to worse things, didn't it?"

  He glanced down at the files on his desk. "Let's see what type of mischief you three conducted. Molly Petry was arrested for shoplifting. Hmm, it seems that the entire act was not only caught on a surveillance camera, but that she offered a very inappropriate gesture using her middle finger as she left the area. Patricia Franklin was placed in corrective custody after she had physical contact with a law officer. Why would she have done such a foolish thing? Oh, I see! She had consumed alcohol and had done so under the age of thirty! April Compton was found guilty of theft and was out after sundown. Where you inviting the boys to fornicate with you, Compton? Shame on all of you."

  He took a dramatic pause before continuing. “Our society follows strict rules and adhere to stringent penalties for a reason. We wish to raise a civilization better than the one that was destroyed, and the only way that will happen is if we produce men and women who abide and respect society’s laws. There is no room for rebels in our fight for food, clean water and the luxury of warmth. Because your crimes were considered nonviolent, and you have some traits that might attract a man looking for a wife, you were given a choice: jail or here. You chose here. I admit that it took some powerful convincing to both you and your mothers to make the right decision, but I firmly believe you are exactly where you need to be. Strictland Academy is a place where you can pay for your crimes and learn how to avoid future ones. Here you will be taught what society demands of you to be a member of worth. You are to never question authority figures, whether it be your mothers, your teachers or a future husband, and you are to obey without hesitation. Through the strict hands and the dedicated, watchful eyes of women specially trained in reform, and who will deliver frequent, swift punishment whenever they deem it necessary, you will learn to behave with the utmost modesty and decorum. The humility you experience through days of long, hard labor and well-deserved punishments is specifically designed to remind you that you have fallen and that you must depend on the care of your superiors for any hope of redemption. Any questions?" he asked, slightly breathless as he recited his long-winded, run-on statement.

  The girls numbly muttered 'no, sir', knowing quite well that his inquiry was rhetorical. The headmaster nodded with satisfaction. He continued, "During your stay here, you are expected to keep your eyes facing the floor in a show of meekness and quietly accept any correction that is considered necessary. I assure you that the Attendants and I will make very certain that you will learn all the necessary dispositions of piousness and conformity before you are allowed to leave this Academy and are given the privilege of marriage to a proper spouse. You have this one opportunity to make a defense without consequences. I strongly suggest you do so,” he said, as he stood with the paddle in his hand.

  Molly glanced fearfully at her companions. It was now or never. "Thank you for giving us the chance to explain, headmaster. I was with a friend at the junk store, and she slipped that bracelet into my pocket. I honestly did not know it was there! When the alarm went off, I went right back inside. I was flipping off my friend, not the camera. I did not know they even had cameras. I mean,"

  "You choice of companions is faulty. Why else would you be looking at bracelets if not to steal them? I was also led to understand that you had intended to run off with a certain young man of whom the State had not approved. That leads to the conclusion that you were planning on selling the stolen item to finance your escape.”

  “That’s not true! He was just a friend and…”

  “Your sentence is as stands. Franklin? Your turn.”

  "I had a sip of my dad's cognac. Just a taste, I swear. I wasn't drinking! I went outside and walked into a cop car because I wasn't paying attention. He said he smelled it on my breath."

  "Due to the rarity of alcohol, and the world history of abuse, the age limit for drinking is set solidly at thirty. You are eighteen. Your failure to be aware of your surroundings and assault an officer of the law clearly indicates your level of inebriation."

  "I didn't assault him. He shoved me over the hood and threw handcuffs on me and said I would be a tasty morsel for the judge to sample. He did not even use a Breathalyzer on me to support the charge that I was intoxicated."

  "Your sentence is as
stands. Compton?"

  April began to cry again, "There was nothing for dinner for my little brother and I took money from our savings to go to the traders market. I left my mother a note before I left! It was not my fault she did not see it under the table. I was hiding on the roof from a street gang, which was why I was stuck out after sundown. A police officer saw me and did not believe I bought the bag of food and charged me with stealing. He did not even bother to ask the trader if I had paid! My mom tried to reverse the charges but they told her that her denial of my actions would hurt me for the rest of my life. The cops pursued these charges, not my mother! They know there are gangs out there and…”

  "Theft is theft, and even if you had her permission to use the money, you know the law regarding curfew and could have left your home earlier. The fact that you took the money without her knowledge, and then put her through the worry about what happened to you after curfew, is reason enough to say that your sentence stands as is."

  He allowed several minutes of silence to pass, giving the three girls time to allow his words to sink in. He perched on the edge of the desk, drumming his fingers on the wood in a slow, methodical cadence. "While you three might believe your actions are justified, that only clarifies the need for you to be here. I assure you, after a year or two, maybe more, you will truly appreciate the life your mothers gave you and will treat it, and whomever assumes your future care, with more respect."

  He slid off the desk, the sound of his shoes clapping as they struck the floor. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the paddle and slipped it off the desk, swinging it menacingly by his side as he walked behind their naked, shivering bodies.

  "All of you are to bend over and use your fingertips to balance yourself. Raise your bottom well up, so that it might receive the fullest extent of my efforts."

  The paddling they received was beyond comprehension. The headmaster progressed down the line, girl to girl, cheek to cheek, with each new red blotch quickly building on top of the old ones. The three knew they were expected to remain silent, but their efforts crumbled immediately. They howled loudly, while their screams of pain rattled the stark office walls. Headmaster Judas made no comment as he paused to take a short breath, raising hope that the horrid torture was over.