Rosecliff, Episode 021

Scarlet Watts

Katherine Chambers’s office was easily found near the front doors of Tanzanite House. I arrived at the same time as one of the girls. She was almost as naked as I, except she retained the white socks and black shoes of her uniform. I didn’t know her name, but I recognized her from the previous evening in the common room. It seemed many of the girls were quite amused with her predicament which told me she was likely not one of the more troublesome girls, despite appearances to the contrary. Then again, I reminded myself, the girls attending Rosecliff Institute were not innocents.

Miss Chambers rose from her seat behind her desk when we entered. The door closed behind us on a spring. My nearly naked companion lowered her gaze and folded her hands together behind her back. I decided to follow suit recalling Miss Chambers’ warning about treating her with respect. My backside was sore enough.

“Abigail, Scarlett,” Miss Chambers said, “thank you for coming.”

Abigail shifted her gaze to meet Miss Chambers’. “It’s always a pleasure, Miss.”

I suspected Abigail responded in the expected manner though I could hear a hint of sarcasm hanging off the words. I felt Miss Chambers’ gaze turn toward me. I mustered all the delicate politeness I possessed and recalled the days of living under my Uncle’s watchful eye. He demanded my respect as well, though I dare say he earned it. “Thank you for the invitation, Miss Chambers. It is a pleasure to be here.”

She smiled as if she heard falseness in my tone. “When girls in trouble are called in here, the experience is never pleasurable.”

I bristled at being called a girl. The similarities between myself and Abigail were mere surface coincidences. I chose to work at Rosecliff Institute, discipline policies and all. Abigail’s attendance, like all the students at Rosecliff, was mandatory. I said, “I may be new here, Miss Chambers, but I am not a student of the Institute. I deserve as much respect as any other teacher here.”

Miss Chambers scoffed at me. “I’ll treat you as I will treat any other member of this house whose behavior has them stripped of their attire and publicly disciplined. If you have a problem with that, we can always begin this afternoon’s lesson with a trip to the Dean’s office.”

I stared into her eyes. She wasn’t bluffing. I lowered my gaze. No need to make more trouble for myself. “That won’t be necessary, Miss.”

“I’ll decide what is necessary,” she said. Her attention pivoted toward Abigail. “I gave you status and privileges as a monitor of this house and you’ve shamed your house and yourself with your behavior, both of which embarrasses me.” She snapped her fingers and pointed to far end of her office. “Nose in the corner and hands on your head.”

Abigail moved quickly. She stood in the far corner of the room, hands on head and making absolutely no sounds. Her back was stiff and straight. The redness of her buttocks glowed in infinite contrast to the white walls. I imagined I would not look much different standing in the corner. It was a humbling sight.

Miss Chambers stepped closer to me until only inches separated us. “As a teacher assigned to my house you are expected to be a shining example for the students here. If you cannot do so by excellent behavior, you will do so by displaying the results of less than excellent behavior. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Miss,” I said.

She stepped back and lifted a large, clear paddle from her desktop. It was easily three inches longer than the paddle Dean Rosecliff used on me in the cafeteria. With the blunt end she pointed toward the open space to the right of her desk. “Over there, face the window and touch your toes.”

My mouth turned dry. The thought of that paddle smacking my bottom sent shivers of fear running through my body. I walked to the indicated spot as slowly as I dared and leaned down touching my toes as she demanded. My butt still ached from the previous two evening spankings and I didn’t want to think about how much more it would ache after Miss Chambers was through. And then there was Dean Rosecliff’s spanking still to come at dinner time yet again in just a few hours time.

Miss Chambers rested the large paddle against my buttocks. “Any week in which a teacher of this house gets herself disciplined, results in a Sunday appointment here for an additional punishment that hopefully reminds her to behave more appropriately in the future. As you will still be punished this week, you can expect a repeat of this next Sunday. Understood?”

I stared at her stocking clad legs, upside down through my naked legs. Carefully controlling my breathing, I said, “Yes, Miss.”

Miss Chambers raised the paddle. “This past week you received 56 swats from Dean Rosecliff on two occasions bringing the total swats received in the last week to 112. You will now receive 112 from me. Stay in position and count each swat or it will be repeated. Understood?”

Tears pooled in my eyes. I blinked them away and concentrated on keeping my breathing even and steady. My uncle had given me several spankings in a single day on many occasions, but I couldn’t recall the total ever surpassing a hundred. Rosecliff Institute wasn’t known for going easy on discipline. That’s why I chose them. I realized Miss Chambers was waiting for my response. “I understand, Miss.”

The paddle collided with my butt. White hot twinges of pain shot through my body with the ripples of the paddle’s forceful impact. I counted and the next swat landed. It seemed Miss Chambers intended my butt to burn for the remainder of the day and probably well into the next. I counted each swat through tears and sobs. The experience of my Uncle’s spankings helped me stay in position despite the overwhelming desire to leap into the air and nurse my flaming bottom in my hands. By the time the last swat fell, I had completely forgotten about Abigail and the other purpose for my visit to Miss Chambers’ office. The pain and heat emanating from my buttocks consumed all my attention.

I stood and faced Miss Chambers on her orders, my hands atop my head and tears streaming down my cheeks. Sobbing, I begged for a little bit of mercy. “P-please, M-miss, p-please m-may I-i p-please r-rub it-it ow-out.”

She smiled, meeting my gaze easily. “No, you may not and if I catch you even starting to rub, we’ll do this all over. Understood?”

I closed my eyes. The hot pain ached for attention like an itch needing to be scratched. “Yes, Miss.”