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.”

Rosecliff, Episode 003

Margaret Lange

Ms. Chambers kept a firm grip on my arm and led me through Rosecliff Institute’s halls. My butt blazed behind me still sore from the Dean’s swats. Fortunately the halls were deserted, leaving my naked shame mostly unexposed. We arrived at the rear exit, a mostly glass door with a four inch metal frame. I stopped. Desert landscaping and a concrete sidewalk were plainly visible on the other side as well as light and shadows from the late afternoon sun. Ms. Chambers opened the door and tugged me through it.

“Don’t dawdle,” she said, allowing the door to swing closed. “You don’t want to have to wait until after dinner to get your uniform.”

Her warning and the hot concrete served to quicken my pace. We walked past a gated pool area, vacant beyond the hum of a running pump, and proceeded toward the last building on the right. It stood directly across from a large gated field of green grass with a dirt oval track running through it. Above double glass doors, metal lettering read, Tanzanite House.

Ms. Chambers opened the right door and led me inside. “In all likelihood this will be your home for the duration of your stay.” She pulled me along to the stairs. “Your room assignment may change over time, but for now you’ll be on the third floor.”

We ascended to the third floor and turned left, down a fairly wide hallway. The walls were barren and white. Light blue carpeting on the floor and stairs. We turned left around a corner and stopped immediately in front of a closed door on the right. Black numbers on a white door identified the room as 310. Ms. Chambers inserted a key in the lock and opened the door. Three sets of bunk beds, wood frames, two small windows on the far wall, three chests of drawers and three nightstands beside the heads of the bunk beds made up the room. The floor was distinctly different from the rest of the building, polished oak. A doorless entry led to a sink and toilet.

Ms. Chambers let go of my arm and patted the post of the nearest bunk. “You’re assigned bed C, bottom bunk,  sit down.”

I sat on the center of the mattress. It lacked sheets and a pillow. The other beds in the room were all neatly made with pillows at the head. Their neatness reminded me of a hotel room. The only time I ever made my bed look half as neat was on the days I changed sheets. Somehow I doubted these beds were made by maids.

Ms. Chambers said, “You’ll meet your bunkmate, Jocelyn Dooley, later this evening. The two of you will be splitting chore assignments.”

I nodded acknowledgment. A flash of annoyance crossed Ms. Chambers face reminding me of the Dean’s earlier admonishment. I said, “Yes.”

She planted her hands on her hips and stared down at me. “You’d best learn to address the teachers and staff here with some respect. You’ll address me as Miss or Ms. Chambers and if I or anyone else needs to remind you again, you’ll be getting a spanking to help make it stick. Am I understood, Margaret?”

I lowered my gaze to hide the angry fire burning inside. The words tasted like vinegar. “Yes, Miss.”

Rosecliff, Episode 002

Scarlet Watts

The unmistakable sound of a paddling carried beyond the closed door. I feigned ignorance and continued answering the informational questions on the clipboard held in my lap. The girl, the sniffling brat from the plane, left the office in the company of a female instructor. Naked with a bright red butt, she shuffled away under the escort of the stern woman whose features appeared devoid of empathy for the girl’s lost modesty. I set the clipboard aside, answers complete.

Walter approached from his open office and collected the clipboard. He hummed to himself a moment, scanning over the documents before his gaze fell on me. “Come along,” he said, pivoting toward the open door, “it’s your turn.”

I stood, hesitating a moment while his choice of words swirled round in my head. Did he mean to suggest I would be treated the same as the brat from plane? The mere possibility caused flutters in my stomach. My legs suffered a slight tremble as I followed him. At the doorway, he politely stood aside and I stepped past him, entering the office first.

A soft click marked the closing of the office door. He guided me toward a gray guest chair and then rounded his desk, sitting behind it. His forearms rested on the edge of the desktop, hands still holding the clipboard. “Your upbringing didn’t include spankings?”

The flutters in my stomach swam. My eyes darted about the walls, searching, but finding no sign of a school paddle. I had heard its use and seen the results though. Hidden in one of the cabinets, I concluded. Safe for the moment, I said, “That’s mostly correct.”

“Mostly?” Curiosity twinkled in his eyes.

I permitted myself a smile and nodded. “I spent a few summers with my uncle. My parents weren’t spankers.”

“But your uncle,” he asked, “he spanked you?”

“Yes.”

“Did he use an implement or just his hand?”

“A paddle,” I said. Though it had been ten years since I’d last felt it, I could still picture it hanging on the bathroom wall. It sent a shudder through me.

“On the bare or over clothes?”

“Bare,” I said, feeling a faint rush of blood coloring my cheeks.

“Were the spankings deserved?”

My face grew hotter. “Always.”

He nodded and laid the clipboard flat on the desk. “I think the same can be said for all the spankings we give at the Institute. I have high standards, but I don’t think I’m unreasonable.”

I nodded. The Rosecliff Institute was not filled with innocent girls. They were all trouble and without correction they would be headed for more of it. “In order to be successful, a place like this must have rules and consequences.”

“And the staff must set the example for the young ladies,” he said. His hands clasped together on the desktop and he leaned forward. “Do you feel confident in your ability to set that example?”

I met his piercing gaze and exuded all the confidence I could muster. “Yes.”

He smiled and stood. “Let’s take a tour.”