Monday, November 19, 2012

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.”

Friday, November 16, 2012

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.”

Thursday, November 15, 2012

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.”

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

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.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

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.”