Family Business, Part 01

“Do we have to?” Eliana Hanson nursed her morning coffee allowing the brown ceramic mug to warm her fingers. The central heat was working overtime raising the apartment’s temperature back into the habitable range after being dormant throughout the night. At least she could no longer see her breath.

Her husband, Trevor, joined her at their black barstool table just off the kitchen. He spread an unhealthy gob of cream cheese onto his cinnamon raisin bagel and dropped a half dozen brown sugar cubes into his travel mug coffee. “It’s Haley’s birthday, so yeah.”

Haley was Trevor’s sister. Eliana recalled her own twenty-fifth birthday. She couldn’t imagine wanting to spend it with her parents and brothers. Instead, she’d partied half the night away with friends and the rest had been spent more intimately with Trevor, first in a hotel hot tub and then onto a plush sofa before ultimately ending in naked, euphoric exhaustion on the suite’s carpeted floor. Parents and siblings didn’t leave much room for that sort of fun.

She set aside her mug and hugged her red winter robe tighter. “It’s really not a party?  I mean doesn’t she want to celebrate with her friends?”

Trevor chuckled. “Haley has never been much for parties. It’s just going to be dinner and dessert. Other than Chuck, it’ll just be family and that’s how she wants it. I don’t know why it bothers you.”

Eliana sighed and shrugged. “It doesn’t really. I guess I’m just not big on feeling like we’re obligated to do all this stuff. When I agreed to move here, you promised we’d still live our own lives.”

He pushed his half eaten bagel aside and frowned. “I don’t think of celebrating my sister’s birthday as an obligation.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean? I thought you liked Haley.”

“What I’m saying is the only time we do anything social anymore it involves your family. We haven’t spent anytime with my family since our wedding.”

“Your closest family lives fifteen hundred miles away. Mine is less than a mile. You want me to pretend it’s all equal?”

Eliana groaned. “Just forget it. I’m wrong, you’re right, same as always.” She grabbed her mug and took a big sip that burned her tongue. It didn’t matter. Nothing she felt mattered.

“You know what?” Trevor slid out of his chair and pressed the lid onto his travel mug. “If you don’t want to come tonight, then don’t. I’ll tell everyone you’re sick or something.”

“You’re not getting what I’m trying to say to you and I don’t know how to make it clearer. That’s why I told you to forget it. We’ll go, make everyone happy. It’s all fine.”

“Obviously it’s not all fine.”

“Yeah, well it’s not going to get fixed before dinnertime either.”

He took a deep breath and stepped back from the table. “If you’re going to be in a bad mood—

“I’m not. I told you it’s fine.”

“Look, it’s Haley’s birthday, don’t ruin it.”

“Is that what you really think of me?”

Trevor grabbed his car keys from the nearby junk counter. “I’ll be home around 5:30. If you want to go, be ready and be in a better mood. Otherwise, I’ll go by myself.”

Eliana glared at his back as he walked to the front door. When he turned back with his hand on the knob she fluttered her eyelashes and said, “Love you.”

“Same, Babe. See you tonight.” Shaking his head, he left and locked the door behind him.


Eliana donned her favorite sweater dress for the evening and matched it with tights and a pair of suede boots. Her husband’s family didn’t really do formal outside of weddings. Something else she missed about life before moving to Trevor’s hometown. She pushed the thoughts aside. He’d be home any minute and she didn’t want another fight. Especially since she couldn’t articulate the problem. It was real. It needed to be dealt with. But not before dinner on Haley’s birthday. Patience and a little extra time to understand what she was feeling wouldn’t hurt.

Trevor came through the front door, punctual as always. He looked tired. His hair was windblown as if he’d drove with the windows down. He stripped off his tie and threw it on the back of the couch. It slid over and pooled onto the left cushion. “You ready to go?”

Eliana smiled and took his hand. “Bad day?”

“I’m beginning to think Dad is never going to trust me to run the place on my own.”

She slipped her hand onto his back and massaged. “Probably not a good night to have this conversation.”

He forced a chuckle and kissed her. “You’re right. But we do need to talk about all this. I didn’t move us back here to be miserable.”

“I know and I’m really sorry about this morning. I’m not angry with you.”

He put on a smile and said, “It’s OK. Are you ready?”

She picked up the wrapped present for his sister from table and nodded. “I am if you are.”


Soon after Eliana and Trevor arrived, his mom, Laura, called the family to dinner. Laura had prepared a feast of beef ribs, baked beans and corn on the cob. The aroma of smoky barbecue permeated the entire house. It was self serve with Haley getting first pick on account of being her birthday. Her boyfriend,  Chuck, complimented Laura on the meal following his first taste of the meat. Eliana assumed he’d have praised the culinary skills even if it had tasted of charcoal and sand. Not that it did.

Trevor’s dad, Paul, raised his glass of beer and said, “Happy birthday to my baby girl!”

Haley smiled and took a sip of her red wine. “I’m not a baby anymore, Dad.”

Paul shrugged. “No need to throw a tantrum.”

Haley shook her head and picked up the spoon beside her plate. “Would you rather I catapult some beans your way?”

Paul laughed. “If you did that I’d have to send you for the paddle.”

“Aren’t you going to anyway?” Haley asked with a raised eyebrow.

Chuck shifted in his seat.

Paul said, “I would think by now you’d know the difference between a birthday spanking and a punishment.”

Haley set the spoon down with a short giggle. “You’re too easy to tease, Dad.”

Paul leaned back and smiled at Haley. “Probably true, but as I recall, about a decade ago, you actually flung those beans.”

Haley nodded. “Gotta watch that memory in your old age. It was nine years ago on my sweet sixteen.”

Chuck blinked. “Seriously?”

Laura said, “She did indeed.”

Eliana leaned forward. “I can’t imagine that ended well.”

Paul polished off another rib. “Just a spot of fun, Eli. Don’t tell me you’ve never enjoyed a good food fight?”

Laura shook her head at the ceiling. “Only someone who has never scrubbed the stains out of laundry can call a food fight fun or good.”

Haley laughed. “That’s not true. I helped scrub those stains out.”

“You mean you helped smear them in better,” Trevor said.

Haley shrugged. “Six, half dozen.”

Laura said, “Yeah, like cleaning your room is synonymous with shoving everything under your bed or into your closet.”

“Whatever works, right Dad?” Haley said.

“I’ve never said anything of the sort.” Paul chomped into his corn.

Haley said, “Agree to disagree, I guess.”

“So you weren’t punished over it?” asked Chuck.

Laura said, “Only if you count making her help me with the laundry as a punishment.”

“Don’t let Mom fool you. She’s a real taskmaster when it comes to chores.” Haley eyed her mom as she sipped her wine.

Laura shook her head.

Paul said, “I would never punish my daughter over a joke. Even a bad one.”

Chuck said, “I don’t think my parents would have considered me throwing food at them a joke.”

Eliana said, “Mine would have definitely sent me to my room to think about my behavior.”

Paul finished the last of his beer. “I’m not going to punish my kids for having fun. I’m going to laugh and have fun with them.”

Haley said, “And that’s why we love you, Dad.”


Eliana helped Laura clear away the dinner dishes. Paul and Trevor repopulated the table with gifts. And Laura brought out a homemade chocolate birthday cake with a pair of numbered candles. Originally the candles indicated 52. Haley popped up from her seat and hunched over taking small steps and rubbing her lower back. In a creaky voice, she said, “I gotta stretch the old bones out.”

Everyone laughed. Paul switched the candles around. “To have a baby girl that old, I’d had to have been robbing the cradle when I was still in the cradle.”

Laura grinned. “The perfect cover for a cradle robber.”

Haley straightened and put her hands on the back of her chair. “Please, I don’t need to picture my parents in diapers together.”

Trevor nodded. “It’ll happen soon enough.”

Laura laughed. “I better have a house full of grandkids before that day.”

“Not as long as we’re still living in a crappy apartment,” Eliana said.

The laughter faded.

Trevor said, “I think it’s time for my baby sis to open her presents.”

Eliana bit her lip. Apologizing seemed like it would only make things more awkward.

Haley slipped back into her seat and picked up the biggest box. She shook it and frowned. “No rattle.”

Chuck leaned into her. “Three guesses.”

Haley sized up the package. “Something small wrapped in too much packaging.”

“What makes you say that?” Chuck asked.

“It’s about as heavy as the box should be.” Haley sat it down and carefully peeled the tape on the end.

“You haven’t guessed yet.” Paul said.

Haley waggled her head. “It’s jewelry.”

Chuck exhaled. “How do you do that?”

Haley laughed and finished unwrapping the box. A second rectangular box rested in the center of it surrounded by wads of tissue paper. She slipped the lid off the second box exposing a heart-shaped locket on a thin gold necklace. Three small diamonds were set in the face of the locket. She leaned into Chuck and kissed him. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Eliana watched the couple with a smile. Chuck wasn’t her type, but he was sweet. His love for Haley was obvious. The way he looked at Haley reminded her of Trevor back in their dating days. Somewhere along the way the magic had faded. Maybe what they had now was better, but she missed that spark in her husband’s eyes whenever he looked her way. Was it wrong to want the thrill again?

Trevor pushed their gift toward his sister. “Eli insisted on wrapping it.”

Haley took the gift and locked eyes with Eliana. “You’d think boys would understand that unwrapping is half the fun.”

Eliana nodded. “Trevor is still on the fence when it comes to trusting my judgment.”

Haley sighed. “So, it’s a gift card instead of something for Chuck to unwrap later.”

Chuck blushed.

Eliana laughed. “I tried to tell him.”

Haley turned to her brother. “Next year, trust your wife.” She unwrapped the small box and removed the plastic gift card. “Well, at least you let her pick the store.”

“As long as you’re happy,” Trevor said.

Haley got up and rounded the table. She kissed her brother’s cheek and hugged Eliana. “Thanks.”

“Happy birthday,” Eliana said.

Haley returned to her seat and spent the next several minutes unwrapping gifts from her parents. She guessed each item with unwavering accuracy. They’d loaded her up with a variety of new clothes and an expensive new phone. She gave her parents each a hug and a kiss with her thanks.

Paul leaned back and asked, “Did you get everything you wanted?”

“I can’t complain.”

Laura said, “It’s almost time for cake then.”

“Right,” Haley said. She chewed on her lip for a moment while staring at the table. “I suppose I should go get the paddle.”

Paul said, “You’ve got a few things to work on for the year ahead, most notably, punctuality. If not for that, tonight really would be just a few token swats.”

“I know.” Haley nodded. “I’ve only got myself to blame.”

Eliana raised an eyebrow, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She wasn’t entirely up on the Hanson family traditions, but she’d never considered a birthday spanking to be more than a lighthearted joke. Between the expressions on Haley and Paul’s faces, she gathered they weren’t discussing a joke. Or maybe the somberness was part of their family joke. She wasn’t sure and didn’t want to spoil anything.

Haley got to her feet. “Be right back.”

“Hold up,” Laura said. “I think this lesson needs to have a clock and some urgency on it. You need to be back with paddle in less than five minutes or you’ll be getting double the swats. And before you head out to the shed for it, I want you to strip down to your birthday suit and fold all you clothes neatly onto the seat of your chair.”

Haley gawked at her mom.

Paul eyed his wristwatch and said, “The clock starts now.”

Haley whirled toward her dad and seemed to realize her parents weren’t joking. Her cheeks flushed. “It’s freezing out.”

“All the more reason to be quick,” Laura said.

“Please,” Haley said with her big eyes focused on her dad, “I promise I won’t waste a second.”

Paul shook his head. “You’re already wasting time. Keep it up and this punishment could follow you to office as well.”

Haley’s jaw quivered.

Eliana watched in a combination of shock and fascination as Haley looked from her mom to her dad and then sighed. A moment later Haley was tugging her boots off. Her jeans followed. She folded them into a square and placed them on the seat of her chair. Her shaking hands pulled her thick sweater up over her head and tugged it free of her wavy hair. It took her three attempts to fold it properly. She kept her gaze low and away from everyone else at the table. Her socks went next.

Haley’s hand hovered with momentary indecision and then quickly moved to unlatch her bra. She hid her breasts from view as long as possible and then gave up as she laid her fold bra atop her sweater. Her fingers found the waistband of her panties and she yanked them south. It was clear there was no longer a point in stalling or trying to hide anything. Naked and red faced, Haley stood still for a moment with her hands dangling beside her legs.

Laura huffed and her lips parted as if to say something.

Haley jolted. She popped up on her tiptoes and raised her hands to the back of her head.

Laura settled back in her chair.

Paul said, “Best get moving. You’ve got less than the two minutes to get back here with the paddle.”

Haley sucked in a deep breath, turned and darted from the room on her toes. A moment later, the back door off the kitchen rattled open and clapped shut.

Eliana tried to ease her discomfort with the situation by shifting in her seat. It didn’t help. She wanted to ask Trevor about the situation, but feared it would spark trouble with his parents. The last thing they needed. Not to mention Trevor had good reason to still be frustrated with her, given her thoughtless response to his mom’s desire for grandkids.

Paul focused on Trevor. “Something on your mind?”

“I guess I was just hoping things had changed a bit more than they have.”
Laura said, “Haley has known for a good month that tonight was going to involve a motivational birthday spanking. She agreed it was deserved.”

“Would her disagreeing change anything?” Trevor asked.

Paul sighed. “It’s a parent’s job to give their kids what they need even when it’s not what they want. One day you’ll understand this.”

Trevor grabbed Eliana’s hand under the table and squeezed. “I just hope she doesn’t catch a cold. It really is freezing out there.”

“A couple minutes chill isn’t going to hurt her,” Laura said. “However, the paddle striking her cold butt will light a fire she won’t soon forget.”

Chuck said, “I’m not thrilled about the situation either, Trevor, but she really does need to learn to be on time.”

“I suppose it’s not really any of my business,” Trevor said.

The kitchen door rattled open and slammed shut. Haley tiptoed back into the room shivering. Her skin was covered in goosebumps. She still held her hands to the back of her head with the paddle’s handle pinched between them. Her cheeks were rosier than when she’d left.

Paul looked at his watch. “14 seconds to spare.”

Haley’s teeth chattered.

Paul stood and took the paddle from her. “Let’s get this over with. Touch your toes.”

Haley didn’t hesitate. She bent forward and dropped her arms to stretch out toward her feet. The paddle crashed into her buttocks. She whimpered. Paul raised the paddle and swung it down. It impacted like thunder. Haley’s body swayed under the force. She grunted and sniffled. Paul drew the paddle back and slammed it into her buttocks.

“Oh! Ow!” Haley stretched and wavered.

Paul was unfazed. He delivered three more swats in quick succession.

“Ow! Oh, it burns! Ow! Ow! Ow! Oh, please!” Haley wriggled and swayed under the onslaught.

“It’s only going to get hotter,” Paul said. “Hopefully, you’ll learn the lesson this time.”

Haley sniffled. “I have, I swear.”

“Not yet,” Paul said. He delivered six more swats in the same harsh fashion. The thunderous claps echoed off the walls.

Haley’s movements intensified as did her yelps and pleas for mercy.

Paul ignored them. He rested the paddle against her buttocks. “What time should you arrive at work?”

Haley choked back tears and gasped for air. “8 AM.”

“Wrong.” Paul delivered two hard swats. “Try again.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. At least five minutes before 8.”

“Better,” Paul said. “How long do you have for lunch?”

She sniffled. “An hour.”

Paul laid on two more swats. “You’re to be back at your desk within an hour. If you spend an hour away, you’ll be late. Understand?”

Haley’s body jiggled. “Yes, Dad. I’m sorry.”

He delivered three hard swats. “Don’t be sorry, be punctual.”

Haley yelped and squirmed. Her voice squeaked as she said, “I will. I swear.”

Paul raised the paddle. He brought it down six more times hard and fast. Haley gasped for air between sobs as her body roiled under the swats. Paul raised the paddle high and paused. His jawline hardened. “Last one, to think and grow on.”

The paddle clapped against her reddened buttocks. Ripples jolted through her body. Her head jerked up. She cried out in shock and pain. Fresh tears burst from her eyes. New sobs racked her body.

Paul lowered the paddle and said, “Up you get.”

Haley gasped for air and sniffled a few times before raising herself upright. Her hands wriggled in the air near her waist as her legs trembled. She looked around the room, face flushed red and tears streaming down her cheeks. Her gaze lowered. “I’m sorry.”

Paul touched the bottom of her elbow and she immediately moved her hands to the back of her head. A breath later and she was back on her tiptoes. He placed the paddle on the table next to the cake. “I think you could use a few minutes in the corner to collect your thoughts and fully appreciate the motivating power of a well-spanked butt.”

Her lips quivered. “Y—Yes, Dad.” She tiptoed into the corner.

Rosecliff, Episode 040

Margaret Lange

I’ve come to realize that life is full of choices that are simultaneously wrong and right. My father called these moments the choosing of the lesser of evils. For him it was typically about elections, selecting the politician who was the less dishonest, the one who was less bribed by the lobbied interest of the creme de la creme of society. Of course there was no true evil in those choices. The men and women who choose a life in public service may not always make the best judgments, stand behind the best policies, but I doubt any of them ever desire the annihilation of our society, of our way of life. They promote that which they believe is the best course for the future and sometimes their beliefs are right and sometimes their beliefs are wrong. That’s the truth which is too often ignored. Right and wrong are not often choices between good and evil, but rather a course followed because of what we believe.

Jocelyn believed it was wrong to withhold a meal just because someone broke a rule. I was inclined to agree, but the leadership of Rosecliff had the opposite view. What was right to us was wrong to them and viceversa. In making these kinds of choices we reveal not only what we believe, but the fiber of our character. And that’s because not everyone will stand up for what they believe. In a place like Rosecliff, I didn’t expect to find many who would have the backbone. After all, the choice which landed me within their walls was made in complete opposition of everything I believed. The fiber of my character was more flexible than I cared to admit.

Natalie, our roommate, was spanked at breakfast. Mr. Boggs did the deed with the medium lexan paddle, on the stage, in clear view of the entirety of Rosecliff’s assembled students, teachers and staff. The swats were hard. Eye-clenching. Ear-wrenching. Back-shuddering. I felt them in my bones. Natalie’s trembling voice echoed in the cafeteria as she counted the swats. I watched the event, not because I desired to increase her shame, her embarrassment, but rather because I wanted to lend her strength and courage. As it drew to an end I wondered if this was why the administration chose to so often spank in the cafeteria. Did sharing in the experience, punish us all? Did it make us more or less likely to take up that place on center-stage?

In that moment, I began to understand that the inevitability of spankings at Rosecliff was not so much a factor of the strict rules as it was a matter of my own resolve to retain something of who I was before I came through the gates. I think all the girls of Rosecliff shared in this flaw and it was only toward the end of their stay that any learned-- realized, that they no longer wanted or needed to be the person they once were.

Jocelyn saved a strip of bacon and half her biscuit, slipping it inside the front V of her jumper. The folds of fabric hid the bulge well enough that only a thorough inspection would note its presence. I tossed aside my fears of getting caught and ending up like Natalie or worse and copied my new friend. Her heart was in the right place and it was time I started making a stand for the things in which I believed.

After breakfast, we rendezvoused with Natalie in an unoccupied corner of the hallway just off the main course toward the classrooms. Natalie hugged us both before wolfing down the food. A few girls cast us curious glances at they walked by, but we were careful. Nothing was obvious and the passersby most likely thought we were consoling our roommate. And in a way, that was true. Food can be a great a comfort when you weren’t supposed to get any.

Everything went according to plan until I was sitting in Mrs. Rosecliff’s classroom and the Dean’s assistant walked in the door without so much as a knock. She whispered in Mrs. Rosecliff’s ear. They both turned and looked at me.

Mrs. Rosecliff said, “Margaret, the Dean will see you in his office immediately.”

I actually smiled. Getting caught doing what I thought was the right thing, wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. At least I had a reason and just maybe, someone might listen before bending me over for my second spanking since arriving. I rose to my feet. “Yes, Mrs. Rosecliff.”

Rosecliff, Episode 039

Britney Pearce

Mr. Boggs said, “Stand here.”

I moved to the position against the office wall, looking toward the open space. Carol stood in the open space. She had removed her uniform. It was neatly folded and sitting on top of the desk. Mr. Boggs had made her fold each piece exactly as if she were putting away her laundry and for each mistake, there have been two, she had to put the garment back on, take it off and try again. The action seemed ruthless.

He opened a cabinet behind the desk and retrieved the medium sized lexan paddle. It cast a temporary reflection of me in it as he turned it toward Carol’s backside. She couldn’t see his approach, but the shiver that ran down her spine told me she knew he was coming. He touched the clear paddle against her buttocks.

“Touch your toes,” he said.

She widened her stance an extra couple of inches and bent forward. Her butt seemed to be pushing itself higher into the air and firmer against the paddle. She closed her eyes rather than looked at me through her parted legs. I wished I had the same luxury, but Mr. Boggs had already made it clear he expected me to watch.

He looked back toward me. “Pay attention, Britney. A monitor must learn how to deliver a good spanking if she’s to gain the respect of her peers.”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied. It was probably unnecessary, but I felt certain that a single mistake in my behavior while in the office would result in me assuming the same position as Carol. I preferred watching to participating.

He raised the paddle, not so much up into the air as back away from her butt. When he swung, the paddle cut through the air with a whir and the impact echoed like a hammer driving home a nail. The flesh of butt was squished, flattened underneath the paddle. And when it pulled back, her butt bounced while the skin colored with flush of hot blood.

The strain in Carol’s voice explained how much it hurt. “One, Sir.”

He delivered another fifteen swats in the exact same manner. Carol’s breathing turned ragged and I could see tears slipping from behind her eyelids by the sixth of them. Her voice quivered and broke and she even sobbed a bit on the last two. Her butt turned darker and darker, the skin glistening under the paddle’s relentless attack. I watched it all, blinking at each impact, but reopening my eyes in an instant. It might have been fear of getting caught, but also on some level I did want Carol to learn her lesson about bullying, abusing the power of her position. Getting spanked was part of life at Rosecliff and we all accepted that, but it went down easier when we knew it was by a fair interpretation of the rules that we were being punished.

Mr. Boggs turned back toward me and motioned me forward. “It’s your turn.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”

He put the paddle in my hand and stepped away from Carol. “Aim for the center of her buttocks and swing with control, not power.”

I hefted the paddle in my hand, it’s balance felt awkward, heavy toward the tip. It took me a moment to find a comfortable grip. I aimed it against her butt and looked at Mr. Boggs. It seemed unreal that he wanted me to paddle her.

He nodded. “Give her between five and ten swats. It’s your choice.”

With Mr. Boggs choice was a pseudonym for test. If I gave her too few, he’d consider it a failure and if I gave too many he’d consider it just as bad. Finding the balance between right and wrong or in this case deserved and undeserved was the point of the exercise.

I decided on eight. It felt incredible to deliver them. The slight rattle of the paddle on impact was like a buzz of approval in my palm. Hearing Carol count and politely call me, Miss while a faint sob strained her voice felt a lot like justice. Maybe being a monitor wasn’t such a bad thing. I could make things fair, hold my peers accountable for the wrong deeds they’d done.

After the last swat, I held the paddle at my side and reached out toward her naked, quivering butt. It felt hot, not quite the same burning Carol likely felt from the inside, but warm to touch like she’d stood too close to a fire. And that was the truth in a certain light.

“Well done,” Mr. Boggs said. “Escort Carol upstairs and have her move her things into your room and your things into her former room.”

I handed the paddle back to Mr. Boggs. “Yes, Sir.” I grabbed Carol’s arm. “Come along Carol, you’ve got work to do.”

Rosecliff, Episode 038

Margaret Lange

I sat at a small table with Jocelyn during evening free time. She had decided from the start we would be friends, I had no objection, and from that point on we were together more than we were apart. Class time accounted for the most of our separation. I was enduring the indoctrination courses, being taught the essentials of life from the ground up as if arrival at the institute had not only stripped me of my dignity but of all knowledge beyond the rudimentary skills of breathing and communication. Jocelyn had progressed beyond those core classes and was enjoying a taste of real education. One of the highly touted benefits of choosing Rosecliff was the ability to gain a college degree in a variety of fields.

Jocelyn’s most endearing quality was her simple ability to fill the silence that might otherwise drive me insane. She said, “So there we were, sitting in Mr. Gunther’s class, you know the math teacher. We’re taking Advanced Algebra, I passed it in high school, but I guess I didn’t do so well on the placement exam, but I don’t test well and maybe I was a little nervous because math like isn’t my favorite subject and while I passed it in high school, I only barely passed it so I guess it’s OK that I’ve got to take it again. But anyway so there we were, Natalie and I and like twenty other girls, most of them I’ve only seen in the cafeteria at meal times cause I don’t think they live in Tanzanite, but of course they are part of Rosecliff and must live in the other houses but I don’t know which ones cause I don’t really know them and hadn’t really paid that much attention before. I’ll have to see if I can figure it out this week during meals.”

I nodded. Stories were never straight forward from Jocelyn, but that didn’t really matter. I just liked listening to her talk. “That will give us something to do.”

“Yeah,” Jocelyn said. “Well me, because you can’t find them cause you don’t know who they are or what they look like cause you aren’t in the class, but I guess you can help me keep track as figure it out. So where was I? Oh yeah, Natalie. So like we’re sitting there in Mr. Gunther’s class and she’s like hardly sitting still. Have you ever notice Natalie can’t ever seem to sit still. It’s like she always has to be doing something with her hands or tapping her feet. Do you think it’s like a disorder or something? Maybe she needs to be medicated. I don’t know. But anyway, she like pulls out her notebook and pencil and starts doodling in it. Can you believe it? Doodling in class? Like where does she think we are, in high school? This is like well, you know the expletive, starts with an F, rhymes with mucking, Rosecliff.”

“Right,” I nodded. My gaze had left Jocelyn in favor of watching Miss Watts. Someone had apparently left the new teacher in charge for the evening and she was enjoying herself at the expense Ms. Chambers, who was definitely not enjoying anything. It still rattled me that the teachers and staff were disciplined along with the students. And Ms. Chambers was being disciplined for something. She was naked, her buttocks were a shiny red that almost looked like she’d had them oiled as well as spanked. I doubted that was the case though. Miss Watts was standing over Ms. Chambers, who was literally down on her hands and knees, scrubbing at the tile floor with a toothbrush.

It seemed Miss Watts found the manner of Ms. Chambers floor scrubbing to be insufficient to the task. She was clearly enjoying the opportunity to make Ms. Chambers repeat her work. And of course, in Rosecliff style, Miss Watts was utilizing a paddle to drive home her dissatisfaction. Three swats every time she told her to clean a spot over. I did feel sorry for Ms. Chambers, but I also recalled Ms. Chambers putting Miss Watts into embarrassing positions in the corner. Perhaps this was just a fair turn of events. I imagine my judgment on the matter fails to account for the full scope of events and choosing compassion for one over the other was probably unwise. Still, I found on a gut level I empathized with Ms. Chambers.

Jocelyn continued with her story. “Well of course, Mr. Gunther noticed. He was none too happy either. Grabbed the lexan paddle handing on the wall by the door and called Natalie right on up to the front of class. She was super nervous. I don’t blame her a bit. I’d have been scared stiff, but I wouldn’t have been doodling in the first place. I mean really, who does something that stupid in class? Natalie, of course. Not that Natalie is dumb. She’s not. I like her. She’s been a roommate since I got here and we’re friends, but still that was like really not a good idea. Anyway, Mr. Gunther stripped her right down to her socks and shoes. And I mean he seriously did it. He wouldn’t let her undress herself. He took her clothes off piece by piece and totally humiliated her, turning her every which way so he and the whole class saw everything. I was blushing for her and so was like half the class and I think I said before, most of them we don’t even know. And then he paddled her, touching toes. I think it was like twenty-two swats and she has to walk around in just socks and shoes until bedtime tomorrow. That definitely s--mucks. She’s going to get paddled at breakfast too and that means no food for her until lunch tomorrow. Do you think I should sneak her some breakfast in the morning? I know I’d like it if I was in her shoes if someone did that for me. But if I get caught it could be like really bad for me. What do you think? Should I?”

I turned my attention back to Jocelyn and shrugged. “If you think you can do it without getting both of you into more trouble, sure.”

Jocelyn smiled. “I knew I liked you.”

Rosecliff, Episode 037

Britney Pearce

Carol was already standing beside the door when I arrived. She had taken the time to restyle her hair into a neat ponytail and she’d smartly washed the small amount of makeup from her face. It was a perk allowed to students after their second year, but it was never really encouraged and under some circumstances, teachers would use it against you. I’d never really gone down that path, it cost money from our allowance to purchase makeup and I’d always found better uses for the funds, like trips into town.

“What,” asked Carol, “are you doing here?”

I stood against the wall beside her. “Mr. Boggs asked me here the same as you.”

“Oh,” she said.

It seemed the possibility that he might discipline us both had never crossed her thoughts before that moment. For me, it had plagued my mind the entire study period and throughout dinner. He obviously disapproved of my silence on Carol’s minor abuses of power. It was difficult to say which rule he thought I violated in that act though. In fact, lodging a complaint seemed more against the rules, in the form of resisting discipline, than keeping silent. If I’ve learned anything during my stay at Rosecliff, it’s that when someone on staff wants to discipline you, they’ll find a way.

Mr. Boggs arrived with keys in hand. He unlocked the door and motioned us inside. Behind us, he closed the door and relocked it. The lights flickered on, overhead fluorescents humming to life with dim light that gradually brightened. Carol and I stood in front of the desk, hands at our sides, backs straight.

He sat in the chair behind the desk, rustled a few papers as if the placement on the desktop was more important than the two of us standing before him. When the desk was neat and orderly, he finally looked up at us.

“Carol,” he said, “why are you here?”

She blinked at him. “You asked me to come.”

His gaze narrowed on her. “And why would I do such a thing? You’re a monitor and I am head of this house, do we not have better things to be doing with our time?”

Carol’s shoulders slumped, not to the point of drooping, but enough that she looked shorter. “I was running.”

He maintained his harsh stare into her face. “I think you continue to miss the point.”

“I don’t understand, Sir,” she said.

“Of that I’m a certain,” he said. “however, by the time you go to sleep tonight, I’m quite certain you will understand.” He turned his gaze on me. “Why are you here Britney?”

I realized the question could have multiple answers, anything from the immediate circumstances to the events that led me to be incarcerated at Rosecliff. And that realization led to another. “Because I’ve made a habit of making poor choices, Sir.”

He smiled and nodded. “Now, that’s precisely the mature sort of answer I’d expect from a pair of girls who have been here as long as you two. Between the two of you, I can safely say I know which I would choose to continue as a monitor for this house.”

It occurred to me that he might be under the mistaken impression, as many of my peers with less time at Rosecliff often were, that I was a monitor. The post was not something I had ever desired and I had in fact turned down the offer from Ms. Chambers on two previous occasions. “I’m not a monitor, Sir.”

“I’m aware of that, Britney,” he said. “As of tonight, that is going to change.” His gaze turned on Carol. “We have here a student who has abused her authority and been caught running on campus.” His gaze turned back on me. “You’re going to discipline her for that and take over her responsibilities as monitor.”

A single look into his dark eyes convinced me there was no arguing with his decision. As of that moment, I was a monitor.

Rosecliff, Episode 036

Scarlet Watts

It was pleasurable to see Katherine Chambers. She stood at the table during dinner, leaning down every so often to take another bite. Her usual place at the head of the table was taken by Gary and Katherine in turn stood behind his customary chair just to the right. Having just been in the position myself, I understood the embarrassment factor quite well. Standing naked for meals in a dining hall filled with comfortably dressed coworkers and students makes a significant mental impact. Of course, there were others standing, mostly students, but against the masses, standing and eating naked is a lonely adventure.

I suspect my pleasure at the turn of events was shared by others at the table, but I rather think the intensity of mine was greater. There was the obvious factor that I had only days prior been in the precise same circumstances and that Katherine had seemed to revel in my embarrassing and painful condition. But it was deeper than that. At those times when my Uncle had disciplined me, there was never a time when I had walked into the room and found another girl standing bare bottomed in the corner. In a way, seeing Katherine, naked and red bottomed, made the world feel balanced.

After dinner, I was walking back toward Tanzanite House, lost in my thoughts on the overall fairness of Rosecliff Institute, when Gary settled into pace beside me. His mere presence was distracting. A single glance in his direction revealed a certain deviousness at work behind his eyes. I suspect he is a master at chess, always planning out the future with dozens of favorable movement possibilities.

He asked, “Do you have plans for the evening?”

I was tempted to lie. The thought of spending an evening with him filled me with trepidation. But I was not foolish enough to believe that if he wanted something from me, I would be successful at keeping that something from him for more than a few hours, days at the most. “Nothing important,” I said.

A small smile crept the corners of his lips upward. “Excellent. I’m in need of your assistance.”

My imagination offered terrible images of what assistance he might think he required from me. I pushed the thoughts away, convincing myself that whatever I could think of would never approach the thoughts being plotted in his mind. A polite smile found its way to my lips. “What can I do?”

“You are familiar with Katherine and her current troubles?” he asked.

I knew the rumors. She had defied the Dean and was currently learning the cost of defiance. “I’ve heard it had something to do with a disagreement with Dean Rosecliff.”

Gary nodded. “That is the short version. Katherine has decided to stick her neck out for a student. A poor decision, I assure you, and one you would be wise not to copy.”

“I see.” Curiosity demanded I ask the obvious and I could tell he was merely waiting for the question. I asked, “Which student?”

He smiled, “It matters not. They’re all bad apples and unworthy of such risk.”

I suspected he was right. The students at Rosecliff were all guilty of acts which, without the charitable intervention of Rosecliff, would have landed them behind iron bars for years. These were not innocent souls in need of protection. “What would you have me do this evening?”

He nodded ahead toward Katherine. She was walking up the steps into Tanzanite House. Her red butt wagging slightly from side to side. Were it not for Gary’s presence I might have laughed.

Gary said, “I need you to watch over the common room tonight while I deal with a situation in the House office.”

It sounded simple enough. “I can do that.”

His smiled widened. “See to it that Katherine remains busy and exposed to the students during the evening. I wouldn’t want her to find the night the slightest bit pleasant. She is, after all, being disciplined.”

I smiled. An opportunity for revenge was not something I had expected so soon. “I think I can manage that.”

He nodded as we climbed the steps. “I thought you might.”

Rosecliff, Episode 035

Abigail Hastings

Being a monitor has ample benefits. Extra study time simply isn’t one of them. I hadn’t missed that part of my responsibilities while I was being punished. It’s a rare day when study period goes without having to address some issue or other with one of my fellow students. If the issue is minor enough and I’m busy enough, my typical manner is to issue a quick warning and get back to studying, but with the recent turn of events, Ms. Chambers standing up for me and Dean Rosecliff making himself clear on the lack of confidence he has in me, I felt I needed to be a little more in accordance with the expectations.

Dana Baker and Gillian Shafer picked this unfortunate time to talk during study period. I forced myself to do the job at hand. The discipline program insisted on 18 swats with the leather paddle. It wasn’t severe, but I still felt like a bitch enforcing it over something so silly. Gillian was a new girl and Dana was her bunkmate, they were probably talking about how things work, or Dana might even have been helping with some of that early etiquette homework that most girls struggle with their first few months.

I stood up, grabbed the paddle from beside my study desk and approached the two, looking as stern as I could muster. “Dana, Gillian, talking is not allowed during study time.”

Dana offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry Miss Abigail. Gillian needed help with her grammar exercises.”

I looked at Gillian. “In the future, you should direct such questions to Mrs. Rosecliff or ask them during free time. Study time is quiet time.” I looked at them both. “Stand up and bend over your desks.”

“Miss Abigail,” objected Dana.

I silenced her before she got us both in too deep. “Don’t make matters worse by fighting a mild spanking, Dana.”

She frowned at me. “Yes, Miss Abigail.”

They both stood and bent over their desks. I flipped up their skirts onto their back, exposing the panties to the entire room. It seemed best to start with Gillian and get it over with so she didn’t have to wait there wondering how awful it was going to be when it was her turn. I delivered the swats sharply, alternating from cheek to cheek as she counted out each swat in a loud clear voice. At least it wasn’t so hard that she cried. I could see some redness shining through her panties after the eighteenth swat, but it wouldn’t last long. By bedtime, she’d be back to normal. Except of course, she was going to be hating me for making an issue out of something so petty. That was OK because I wasn’t liking myself too much for it either.

I moved on to Dana. She yelped and even sniffled as I progressed the spanking at the same steady pace I’d delivered it to Gillian. I knew I wasn’t swatting any harder, but Dana was carrying on like I’d upgraded to Lexan. Her counts lacked the clear voice of Gillian’s and I knew I was in danger of losing my authority over everyone in the room if I allowed her to continue making such a ridiculous fuss. I stopped after delivering ten.

“Dana,” I said, “this overacting is absolutely ridiculous. I’m going to start this spanking over at one and if you don’t stop carrying on like a little baby, I’m going to further punish you for resisting a punishment. Is that understood?”

Dana stopped sniffling. Apparently the thought of a long harsh punishment for resisting, was as unappealing to her as it was to me. “Fine,” she said, “but this is still ridiculous.”

“I agree,” I said. I decided I needed to make a real point to the whole room. I slipped my finger into the waistband of her panties and yanked them down to her knees.

Dana shivered, but wisely kept her mouth shut.

I started the spanking over and turned her pink bottom to a glossy red after eighteen swats. She counted each one, loud and clear. There was no more stomping of feet or crocodile tears. It was done the way it was supposed to be done. I sent her to stand in the corner near the exit for the remainder of the study period with her skirt up and panties down. Gillian, I allowed to continue with her studies. It was clear to me, everyone in the room sensed the change. They got the message, follow the rules or I would follow the rules imposed on Monitors.

It didn’t feel good, but I hoped in changing the tone, the girls would know it best not to test me in the coming days. Maybe we would all get more studying done. I turned to go back to my desk and that’s when I realized we were being watched. Dean Rosecliff, stood in the doorway. Our eyes met and I could still feel his disapproval of me personally, but there was a hint that my actions with Dana and Gillian actually did meet with his approval. Before I could say anything, he turned on heel and left.

Rosecliff, Episode 034

Britney Pearce

I was walking toward Tanzanite House for afternoon study time. Ms. Rutherford had held me back a few minutes, discussing my degree qualifications and whether or not I intended to formalize things with an application for graduation. With less than a year of Rosecliff left ahead of me, it was among the top subjects in my thoughts most days, but decisions on the future have a scary element to them after spending so long living day by day. Ms. Rutherford was right though, it was time to start planning for a future beyond the gates of Rosecliff. Such were my thoughts as I walked along the open air path.

Miss Carol approached from behind. She was slightly winded as if she had been running. The thin sheen of sweat on her forehead just beneath her black hair only reinforced my conclusion as it was one of those days when the air carried a chill and only the hot sun in the cloudless sky kept the day from being a cold one. She slowed her pace, grasped my arm and pulled us both to a stop.

She said, “You’ve been running.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I have not, Miss Carol.”

“Why else would I have had to run to catch up with you?” she asked.

It seemed a ridiculous question. If we walked at the same pace and I left before her, she would certainly have to increase her pace, say by running, to catch up with me. And I had left the main building before her, apparently. I possessed a written excuse from Ms. Rutherford for my late exit and it occurred to me that Miss Carol’s even later exit might not have such a valid reason. If so, she was likely looking to use me as an excuse. Wrong place, wrong time, was still seeming to be the story of my life.

“I left before you,” I said.

She stared into my eyes, confident in her superiority. “Don’t get smart.”

I felt like laughing. It would of course be the wrong thing to do. Running on campus came with stiff penalties and I still preferred to avoid them. It was to my benefit to cooperate with Miss Carol and offer her an opportunity that was less burdensome to me and yet still met her needs.

“We both know I wasn’t running.”

Miss Carol raised up on her toes, giving herself a downward vantage into my eyes. “Are you calling me a liar?”

I shook my head, not trusting myself to find the appropriate tone to cool her blood. But we weren’t quite alone. Mr. Boggs had approached us quietly without either of us noticing. When he spoke, I nearly jumped out of my own skin and I think Miss Carol might have, if only for a second.

Mr. Boggs said, “I’m quite certain Britney would avoid saying something so inflammatory. I, however, see no reason to be so diplomatic. You, Carol, were running, not Britney.”

Carol stammered. “I-I-I was only trying to catch up.”

He nodded. “We’ll discuss this more fully after dinner in my office.”

She lowered her gaze, though her eyes were wide open. Her fingers twitched at her sides. “Yes, Sir.”

He pointed ahead toward Tanzanite House. “Move along. If I’m not mistaken you’re late for study time.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said and pivoted toward the house. Her quick pace away was almost a run, but I imagine she just wanted to get away from Mr. Boggs before he changed his mind and disciplined her on the spot. Personally, I was slightly disappointed he didn’t. It did seem I deserved the opportunity to watch her squirm considering she was perfectly willing to do the same to me without any proper reason.

Mr. Boggs turned his attention on me. “Why haven’t you reported Carol for bullying?”

“Sir?” Did he really expect me to explain the way things worked at Rosecliff and why it was never in a girl’s best interest to tattle?

“I’ve been reviewing your record,” he said. “This is clearly not the first time Carol Sato has called you out on failings you did not commit. Why haven’t you reported this to Ms. Chambers?”

“I’ve seen a lot of monitors come and go in my time here,” I said. It was easier to stare at the ground than meet his gaze. “Miss Carol is new to the post and flexing her muscle.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He lifted my chin with a finger.

I hesitated a moment. The look in his eyes told me he wanted honesty. I gave it to him. “Discipline is part of life at Rosecliff. Sometimes it is fair, sometimes it is not. I can take it either way and complaining about it is pretty lame. We’re all here for good reason and it’s not because we’re innocent. Sir.”

He nodded, apparently pleased with my response. “I want to see you in my office after dinner as well.”

Rosecliff, Episode 033

Scarlet Watts

Gary- Mr. Boggs, having taken over Ms. Chambers’ leadership role for the week, seemed quite at ease standing against the wall surveying my classes. Unlike Ms. Chambers, he spent more of his time watching my students rather than me. That might have been a result of my fully clothed state or it might just be that Mr. Boggs understood the most likely problems in a classroom were going to come from the students, not the teacher.

I gave my first quiz. It seemed appropriate. The students had spent time learning the positions of the keys on keyboards and how best to position their hands on the keyboard to take advantage of that knowledge. Of course it takes time to connect the movement of fingers with the knowledge in the brain. Some would pick it up faster than others, but my quiz wasn’t about speed. Accuracy through the slow deliberate movement of fingers over the keyboard was my goal. All I asked of my students was to type a simple sentence while wearing a blindfold. It was the same method by which I was taught.

Most succeeded with few or no errors. And then there was Lindsay Owens. She typed not a single correct letter for the entire sentence. The pooling tears in her sad green eyes only furthered my opinion the girl did it purposefully. Undoubtedly, she looked forward to the lunch meal where she would mock me as a teacher. The red headed drama queen was testing me and she must have thought I would fail.

I looked to Mr. Boggs beside the door, shaking my head. His approval was a necessary step in moving forward with discipline during my probationary period. Ms. Chambers would likely have turned me down, but I felt Mr. Boggs was more open-minded. I said, “She failed to type even a single letter correctly.”

Mr. Boggs pushed on the bridge of his glasses with his index finger though they were already solidly in place. “That does sound unacceptable.”

I stepped toward him. “Unacceptable? It’s either intentional or a clear sign of a learning disability. Is Lindsay Owens learning disabled?”

Mr. Boggs lips formed a thin smile. “Not that I am aware of.”

“That leaves intentional,” I said, planting my hands firmly on my hips. “Certainly you would agree that discipline is called for?”

Lindsay twisted around in her seat. Her milky pale complexion turning a sort of strawberry in her obvious anger at having been caught in her ploy. “It was a mistake, Miss. Honest. My fingers were in the wrong place.”

I twisted and snapped my fingers at her. “Quiet girl. I wasn’t talking to you and I didn’t ask for your explanation.”

She wisely lowered her eyes. “Sorry, Miss.”

Mr. Boggs said, “I’ll approve a disciplinary action if that is your choice, Miss Watts.”

I looked back at him and nodded in respect. “Thank you, Mr. Boggs. I do indeed choose.”

He lifted up his datapad and tapped on the screen. After my probationary period, I would get one of my own. They communicated wirelessly with the Institute’s internal network and the disciplinary program in particular. Rosecliff left nothing to chance in deciding punishments. Everything was regimented with weight being given to a student’s disciplinary history. The only problem I saw with the program was that it often erred on the side of leniency.

Mr. Boggs said, “Her punishment will be for the remainder of the day only. She will be stripped down to bra, socks and shoes for attire. You may give her 24 spanks with either the tawse or the small Lexan paddle. Afterward, she will spend the remainder of the class period in corner time and this evening, instead of enjoying free time after dinner she will retake the exam under your supervision. Do you have any questions, Ms. Watts?”

I shook my head. It was simple enough. I turned my attention on Lindsay. “Stand up and remove your uniform down to your bra, socks and shoes.”

The strawberry blush on her cheeks darkened as she complied and the eyes of her classmates focused on her undressing. In a positive note, I am pleased she followed instructions without complaint or argument. I opted for the small Lexan, the feel of a solid implement in my hand is infinitely more satisfying than the wishy-washiness of most leather. Lindsay bent down, touching her toes with her legs split sufficiently to give Mr. Boggs an excellent view of her sex. I imagine he enjoyed it, though he gave no outward signs of such. The twenty-four swats I delivered to her pale buttocks, colored her a nice soft red, but they felt far too few. She was hardly colored at all when I met again in the evening for her repeat quiz. My only real satisfaction comes in knowing that the girls in my classes would spread that word; Miss Watts is not to be fooled with.

Rosecliff, Episode 032

Margaret Lange

Things were going pretty smooth. I had managed to avoid getting spanked since my initiation into Rosecliff and that initial spanking seemed quite unavoidable. It crossed my thoughts to suggest I hadn’t done anything to deserve it even, but of course the people running Rosecliff would not agree. In their eyes every girl who walks through their front door has done plenty to deserve a solid spanking. I bet they even consider making it a daily ritual for some of the more hardcore girls. Then again, they consider me hardcore though prior to the supposed incident that landed me here, I’d never been in any sort of legal trouble. Sometimes I think the system is designed to punish those who spend their lives living within the rules and make a single mistake more than it punishes those who break the rules every day.

So anyway, I was showered, dressed and had just finished making my bed when Miss Abigail entered. She smiled at me like we were old friends which was nice. I still felt bad about the trouble she had with the shopkeeper, Mr. Mason. She joined me beside the bed and looked at it. I shrugged. She hid her laughter behind a fake fit of coughing. I blushed.

Miss Abigail said, “That’s got to be the worst made bed I’ve ever seen. I mean I’ve seen unmade beds with less wrinkles.”

I nodded, looking at it. “My mom gave up on trying to teach me years ago.”

Miss Abigail shook her head. “That won’t do here.”

I offered her a weak smile. It wasn’t like I hadn’t known the day was coming. Everyone else made the kind of beds you could bounce quarters off of and if you threw one at mine, you’d probably lose it inside a wrinkle. And of course, life at Rosecliff was meant to include regular doses of corporal punishment. That I’d gone nearly a week without any was certainly a miracle. Unfortunately, it was a miracle soon to be corrected.

That was when Jocelyn returned from the showers, dripping wet and wearing nothing more than her towel and a pair of flip flops. “Don’t be mean, Ms. Abi. She’s still new and has lots to learn. Ain’t that right, Mags? I’ve been teaching her stuff all week, but haven’t quite made it to the bed thing yet. Pathetic I know.” She took a breath, shaking her head at the sight of my bed. Then, she whistled. “That’s the worst it has looked all week. I swear. Just don’t be mean, Ms. Abi. We’ll get her all straightened around. Promise.”

Miss Abigail rolled her eyes while her back was still turned on Jocelyn. She pivoted and sighed, planting her hands on her hips. “It’s Miss Abigail, not Abi and I don’t think I’m ever mean.”

Jocelyn smiled. She dropped her towel on the floor and started dressing. “Sorry, Miss Abigail. I like you and so I use a nickname cause I always use nicknames for folks I like. And I know you ain’t mean. If you were mean, I’d probably get spanked for just talking to you cause we all know I talk too much and say stuff I should probably never say. But anyway, like I was saying, Mags there just needs to be taught, I ain’t had the opportunity to teach her quite yet. If you gonna spank anybody over it, it should probably be me. But you ain’t mean. So you’ll let me teach her, right? Nobody got touch their toes today, right?”

Miss Abigail shook her laughing, this time without bothering to disguise it. “Alright, alright. You can teach her and I won’t punish anyone, this time.”

Jocelyn pulled her socks into place and stepped into shoes, finishing getting dressed. “You’re the best, Miss Abi.”

Miss Abigail said, “It is Miss Abigail.” She wagged a finger at the two of us. “If it looks like this tomorrow, I’ll spank you both and you know what that means for the rest of day if I do.”

Jocelyn nodded. “Yes, Miss Abigail.”

The next fifteen minutes consisted of a rapidfire instruction on how to make my bed from Jocelyn. It would have never sunk in, but she helped me do it step by step while she explained and the really amazing part was it looked good when we were done. Of course the real test will be tomorrow morning when I try to do it myself all over again. Time will tell, but I doubt my luck against spankings will hold out much longer. It just goes against the grain of a place like Rosecliff.