Rosecliff, Episode 009

Margaret Lange

Mr. Mason, it felt odd calling a teenager mister, instructed Abigail to assist me in getting the uniform on right. It went much smoother with the jumper untwisted and right-side out. The bow tie, a simple ribbon of fabric matching the jumper that buttoned in a cross just in front of the neck, was the most difficult. Mostly because I had never worn anything of the like before. A glance in the wall mirror behind Mr. Mason revealed my appearance as that of a high school student at one of those uppity private institutions where everyone wore identical uniforms.

We proceeded to the front counter. Mr. Mason printed a bill for my initial purchase items and loaned me a pen so that I might write out a check paying for it all. I think I annoyed him by insisting on comparing the bill with the list of items in the white book, but he chose to move on and focus his energies on Miss Abigail.

Mr. Mason retrieved a tablet from beneath the counter and began tapping on the backlit screen. All the while, he wore a stern expression, lips puckered as if sucking on a lemon. Something about his eyes suggested he disliked what he was doing. The way he kept glancing at Miss Abigail, he was angry, but there was more to it than that. He liked her.

She stood off to my left, chewing on her lip and looking at Mr. Mason when he wasn’t looking at her. Her eyes held apology and hope. She cleared her throat, grabbing his attention. Her gaze locked on the floor in front of her feet. “I know I was wrong, but couldn’t you let it pass this time, Sir?”

He focused on the tablet. “This is your third punishment in the last 30 days. Two weeks ago you were caught daydreaming in class and two weeks before that you apparently forgot your manners at the breakfast table. Combine that with the disrespect you showed me and I think it’s pretty safe to say you aren’t exactly setting a good example.”

Her shoulders slumped. Tears welled in her eyes. “Please, Sir. It won’t happen again.”

Mr. Mason nodded. “As a result of your poor behavior of late, the computer recommends a stricter than normal punishment.”

A single tear slid down Abigail’s cheek.

He said, “For the next five days your uniform is restricted to socks and shoes, you will report to the assistant dean in the cafeteria at breakfast for 27 swats of the medium Lexan paddle or the heavy strap , and you will spend the remainder of the breakfast period in corner time. Additionally, your free time privileges are revoked and your status as a monitor is suspended pending a review by Dean Rosecliff.”

The whole thing sounded extremely harsh. Abigail had only been trying to protect me from his leering eyes. Not that he hadn’t already seen everything. Still, in a certain light she was being punished for being nice and that was wrong. But, Mr. Mason had a point as well. She had not addressed him with respect and her suggestion, that his interest in watching me dress and undress was inappropriate, whether true or not, was unwise.

Mr. Mason said, “I’m entitled to give you an equivalent spanking right now. As my most significant available is the small Lexan paddle, the program recommends I add 15 swats to the 27 making a total of 42.”

She gasped and blinked at him in disbelief.

He said, “Strip yourself down to socks and shoes. Place your neatly folded clothes in a stack on the counter and then you can stand facing me with your hands on your head. Any questions, Abigail?”