Rosecliff, Episode 008

Scarlet Watts

The girls gone from the study room, Walter turned his gaze on me. “I’m curious, how exactly would you have handled Britney had it been your choice?”

I looked at the now pushed in chair the girl had bent over. In my thoughts the punishment had been completely ineffective. The girl, Britney, would likely have left the room smiling were it not for the back of her skirt being raised. Her embarrassment would have been much more significant had her panties been missing. A little humbling embarrassment was always a good deterrent against future misdeeds, or so my uncle always claimed. I tended to agree. “Bare bottom for certain.”

“How bare?”

I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

He said, “Skirt up, panties down, or skirt up, panties off, or skirt and panties off or totally nude. Or some other combination of clothing alteration?”

I hesitated, thinking over the options. My uncle’s version of bare had usually meant naked below the waist and, on a couple of occasions, completely naked. The lack of tears and emotion from Britney tipped the scales in my mind. “Totally nude.”

Walter nodded. “And what implement would you choose?”

It was a less complicated choice. “A wood paddle.”

“We use Lexan.”

I nodded. It was the modern choice. “I’m sure one of those would do fine.”

“We have a fourteen-inch and an eighteen-inch, which one?” he asked.

My thoughts ran toward the eighteen-inch, but I didn’t want to seem too severe. “The fourteen would be good.”

“How many swats?”

I hesitated, too many and he’d think me a monster and too few would show me to be soft. My uncle was good at making the number of swats connect to the behavior being corrected. Fifteen minutes late and there would be fifteen swats, not acting my age and I’d get twice my age. “How old is the girl?”

“Britney Pearce, 24,” He said.

I nodded. Not pushing in one’s chair was certainly akin to not acting one’s age. “48 swats.”

He asked, “Would you send her to corner time in the cafeteria and if so, for how long and in what state of dress?”

The embarrassment would draw out emotion even if nothing else did. “Yes, I’d send her there naked and let her spend the entire meal in the corner as an example to the rest of the students.”

He nodded. “And at what point would you end her punishment and let her dress?”

My uncle’s punishments had usually ended after breakfast the following morning. One time he grounded me an entire week though. That had been embarrassing, not to mention the soreness of my bottom getting spanked every morning of that week. “Five days,” I said, “repeating the spanking and corner time each day with dinner.”

Walter said, “That sounds quite severe for not pushing her chair in.”

I nodded. “Perhaps, but I think she’d learn the lesson. I mean you’d think after four years here she’d know better than to do something like that.”

Walter nodded. “I think a personal demonstration of such a severe discipline might benefit you.”

I stared at him. Did he mean to suggest disciplining me or was the reference to another girl at Institute who was due to receive a more severe punishment? His expression failed to reveal the meaning further.

He walked toward the exit. “We should proceed to the cafeteria.”

Rosecliff, Episode 007

Abigail Hastings

It’s easy for a Monitor to slip away. The other girls are so busy trying not to be noticed they don’t notice much of anything around them either. I figured it out on my first week as a Monitor and have been taking advantage of it ever since. All I have to do is make sure no teachers are watching and have an excuse already in mind just in case someone does notice. So far, I only needed the excuse once and it worked perfectly. Monitors get the benefit of the doubt.

With everyone hustling off toward the cafeteria for dinner, I snuck away for a quick stop in the Tanzanite Shop. Sean wasn’t at the counter like usual. I moved farther into the store. It sounded quiet, deserted even, but the door would have been locked if no one was inside. Then I spotted him toward the back of the store near the fitting area. He was probably stocking a late shipment. I waved.

He smiled and winked. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to the cafeteria?”

I glanced toward the door. No one around. Still, better safe than sorry. “Study period gave me a headache. I was hoping I could get something for it, Mr. Mason.”

A brunette I had never seen before stepped out from behind the jumper racks. She was struggling with the split front trying to wear it like a pair of suspenders. Her attention was focused on Sean. “Are you sure this is my size, Sir? It doesn’t seem to fit right.”

Sean chuckled, shaking his head at her. “I don’t think size is the problem.”

I walked closer, inserting myself into her view. If I wasn’t going to get some private time with Sean at least I could still make the trip worthwhile. I smiled at her. “You must be the new girl. I’m Abigail Hastings, Tanzanite House Monitor. The rules prefer you call me Miss Abigail.”

She returned my smile and nodded. “Margaret Lange.”

I ran my fingers along the split panels of her jumper, attempting to straighten them into position. Somehow she’d managed to get the whole top part of the jumper inside out. It was impossible to fix with her wearing it. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to take it off so we can straighten it out. It’s twisted in the back making the whole top inside out.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “I’ve never worn something like this before.”

“It’s alright, I’ll get you fixed up and escort you over to dinner so nobody harasses you for being late.” I glanced toward Sean, still standing there staring and grinning. “Don’t you have something else to do? I’m sure you’ve seen more than enough of Margaret.”

Margaret seemed unconcerned about Sean’s presence. She unfastened the jumper and slipped out of it without a second’s hesitation. The garment fell to the ground and she stepped out of it, bending down to pick it up. It only took her a moment to see the twist and correct it.

Sean said, “Aren’t you forgetting something Abigail?”

I stared at him, he was clearly enjoying the view of Margaret. Of course, I knew he saw other girls undressed, it went with the territory, but ogling one in front of me was totally unacceptable. “Have some decency,” I said, “she’s half naked.”

The grin disappeared. He said, “Apparently you need to be reminded of your place, Abigail. You may be a Monitor, but I am a member of the staff and you’re way out of line suggesting my presence here is inappropriate.” His gaze shifted briefly toward Margaret. “Pay attention Margaret, you’re about to find out what happens to girls who treat members of the staff with disrespect.”

Rosecliff, Episode 006

Scarlet Watts

“Five,” the blonde girl counted. Her voice sounded disturbingly calm considering she was bent over the back of a chair getting spanked.

Carol, the tall slender girl wielding the leather paddle, appeared insufficient to the task. She swung with considerable effort, but the paddle’s impact was continuously flat. It lacked the sharp snap I expected from leather. And the blonde’s reactions were almost nonexistent. Carol’s features expressed a degree of frustration.

I turned toward Walter, he displayed a quiet sense of satisfaction with his hands clasped behind his back. “I thought spankings were generally given on the bare bottom.”

He smiled at me. “I’ve found that by varying the state of dress the Institute can better differentiate between minor and major infractions of the rules.”

“Eight,” the blonde said. Her pale legs remained rigid while the front of her skirt swayed slightly in response to the paddle’s breeze.

I shook my head. “I’m sure failing to push her chair in was a minor infraction, but the girl seems utterly unphased.”

“Ten.” Her voice lacked strain and emotion. She might as well have been a robot.

Walter looked me over as if I were a student. “Would you prefer the girl flailing about and begging for mercy?”

“No, of course not. I just tend to think a spanking should evoke some emotion and perhaps a few tears.”

“Fourteen,” the blonde said. A faint pinkness shined through her panties. The back of her right knee wobbled briefly. She was probably just tired of holding her legs straight.

He said, “As you gain experience you’ll learn that girls have varying levels of tolerance. In this case, Britney has been at the Institute for over four years and her ability to weather chastisement with little outward emotion has developed over that tenure.”

“Eighteen,” said Britney. There might have been the slightest warble in her voice.

“Wouldn’t a heftier implement applied to her bare bottom be more effective?” I asked.

“Twenty.” Her buttocks clenched momentarily. Maybe the spanks were beginning to sting. Then again, she might simply have been stretching her muscles.

Walter smiled. “Naturally, but what would I use to increase the punishment when she does something more serious?”

“I’ve heard a caning can be quite severe.”

Britney said, “Twenty-two.” Her head dropped, mopping the seat of the chair with her long hair and her fingers let go of the edge. There were no signs of tears or excessive discomfort, merely relief that the event was over. No doubt the back of the chair pressing into her tummy hurt more than the leather slapping her panties.

“Punishment,” he said, “need not be severe to be effective.”

I watched Britney right herself and push the chair under the study desk. Carol tucked Britney’s skirt into the waistband ensuring the panties and the pink glow beneath remained visible. Walking around in such a state would no doubt be embarrassing, but I couldn’t help feeling Britney lacked remorse. If she had a bright red bottom, nakedly exposed, and tear stained cheeks, I suspect regret and remorse would have been more readily apparent.

Carol pivoted toward Walter. “Is there anything else, Sir?”

Walter shook his head. “No, you can proceed to dinner.”

Carol flashed a smile and bowed her head. “Thank you, Sir.”

She turned back toward Britney. “Gather your books and march over to the cafeteria. You’ll spend the first thirteen minutes of dinner in the corner.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss Carol.” Britney lifted her materials from the floor, combined them with her things on the study desk and, followed by Carol, briskly walked from the room, her white panties still plainly displayed.

Rosecliff, Episode 005

Britney Pearce

The overhead speaker crackled alive with the ringing of a bell. Dinner time. I gently closed the calculus text, closed my my notebook and put away my pencil and graphing calculator inside the clear zipper pouch. The other girls in the study room moved with significant haste and noise, exiting the room with quick long strides as if they might arrive in the cafeteria and find it void of food. Five years at the institute had taught me many things, patience most of all.

When the study room was mostly empty, Tanzanite House Monitor Carol Sato and I  were all that remained, I pushed my chair back from the study desk and knelt down on the floor to collect the rest of my study materials. Final exams were tomorrow and passing grades would mean I earned a Bachelor’s of Science in Accounting with six months still remaining before freedom. Successful completion of the Institute’s program meant my criminal record would be sealed and no one would ever need to know about it so long as I remain a law abiding citizen. If only the memory of it could be sealed away and forgotten as easily.

Carol’s shadow fell over me. “You didn’t push your chair in Pearce.”

Materials gathered at my knees, I sat back on my heels and looked up at her. “Just collecting my things, Miss Carol.”

Carol’s dark eyes sparkled with the thrill of authority. Her status as Monitor elevated her above me despite my seniority in both age and time served. At time like this, I sometimes regretted my decision avoiding the status and responsibility of being a Monitor. I would never have made a good Monitor though. Superiority over the other girls was not something I ever felt.

“You should have pushed your chair in first,” Carol said.

“It’s not in anyone’s way.”

Her thin lips perked at the corners. “Are you arguing with me Pearce?”

“No, Miss Carol.”

“Right,” she said, her left hand tapped the wood back of the chair, “stand yourself up and bend right over the back of the chair then.”

Five years at the institute taught me not to sigh. I followed directions. A few swats from Carol Sato weren’t enough to spoil my day, but giving her additional excuses to punish very well could. I grabbed the front edge of the wood seat and kept my legs and back as straight as possible. Spankings were a casual enough occurrence and a Monitor’s chastisements were limited enough in most respects that they tended to be more nuisance than punishment.

Carol lifted my skirt and laid it on my back, exposing my white panties. “22 this time.”

I felt the implement resting on the stretched cotton covering my bottom. The leather paddle I concluded based on it shape, texture and softness. It was the lesser of the options available to Monitors, but Carol was relatively new to the post and had yet to be certified on the strap. The first swat echoed in the empty room.

“One,” I counted.

Dean Rosecliff’s voice interrupted the spanking. “What have we here?”

Carol went ridged. “Britney failed to push her chair in properly, Sir.”

My gaze drifted toward the Dean and spotted an unfamiliar woman standing beside him. She looked barely older than me, but clearly wasn’t a new inmate, by the clothes she wore and the expression on her face. Probably the new Computer Sciences instructor if the rumors could be believed.

Dean Rosecliff said, “Some of our more accomplished and responsible students are given the authority to help us enforce the day to day rules at the Institute. Continue as if we weren’t here, Carol.”

Rosecliff, Episode 004

Margaret Lange

Ms. Chambers removed a brown plastic checkbook from her blazer and handed it to me. “This is your sole source of funds at the Institute. Without it you will be unable to purchase the things you need and such inability will only lead to misery. Do not lose it. Do not lend it to anyone. Do not leave this room without it. Understood?”

“Yes, Miss.” I opened the book. It looked like a normal checkbook. The checks listed the Rosecliff Institute in place of a bank, but otherwise appeared typical. The ledger featured three entries; an initial deposit, a deduction for Tanzanite House Ring, and a deduction for Checks. The remaining funds available were a jaw dropping, $1369.50.

Ms. Chambers said, “Most everything done at the Institute is with the singular purpose of teaching personal responsibility. The Tanzanite Shop is located on the first floor adjacent to the common area and you will find it stocks everything you need. Additionally, there are approved luxury items available. Each week you will receive an allowance of $225. You can purchase whatever you like, but if your funds run out you will face the consequences of doing without. If you attempt to overspend your funds, you will also face consequences. Is that clear?”

It sounded simple enough. Resist temptation. Buy only what you need or expect a spanking. Undoubtedly, this was life at Rosecliff Institute. “Yes, Miss.”

“Good. You’ll find a list of suggested initial purchases in the book Dean Rosecliff gave you as well as pricing for meals. It would be wise to follow the guide and avoid additional expenditures until you’ve become more familiar with the day to day life here, but the choice is ultimately yours.”

“Yes, Miss.” I thumbed through the white book, finding the mentioned page with relative ease at the back.

“Do you have any questions?”

I shook my head. “No, Miss.”

She nodded in a manner that lacked any sense of approval. “Very well. I will escort you to the Tanzanite Shop and from there you’re on your own until dinner. Before that, I suggest you acquire a uniform and wear it in accordance with the directions in the book.”

“Yes, Miss.”

We left the room. Ms. Chamber closed and locked the door. We proceeded downstairs. The shop was easily accessed, standing in a corner on the first floor with glass walls bordering the interior space. The aisles were filled with a hodgepodge of items reminiscent of a convenience store. I pulled the door open.

Ms. Chambers said, “When you hear the next bell, proceed to the cafeteria. If you need help finding it, there is a map in the front of the book or you can always ask a member of the staff for assistance. Your table assignment is T-310. Understood?”

“Yes, Miss.”

She left. I entered the store. A young man sat on a stool behind the nearby counter. His boyish features and sloppily combed hair were suggestive of a teenager in high school or just out. He smiled in my direction while his eyes danced up and down my naked body. I closed my eyes feeling a flush of hot embarrassment tingling my flesh. Eyes open, I forced myself to walk forward. It seemed obvious I was far from the first naked girl he’d seen, but the fact offered little respite from the embarrassment.

He slipped off the stool and rounded the counter, stepping in front of me. “You must be the new girl.”

I nodded.

His eyes glanced toward the wall where a leather strap hung on a hook.

“Yes, Sir.”

He smiled as sloppy as his hair. His gaze moved toward my hand and the white book. “Are you gonna be one of the smart ones or the foolish ones?”

My fingers tapped against the book. His reference could only be to the list inside. It wasn’t a hard choice. “I’ll try for smart, Sir.”

He nodded and turned toward the greater body of the store. His hand waved in the air urging me forward. “Come on then, let’s get you fitted for your uniforms.”