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.