Reform, Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Best. Spanking. Ever.

‘What?’

‘Last night!’ Lauren was all in a tilly, squeezing the imaginary life out of her bear, Dr. Featherstone. ’Through the South Fence! And the goons didn’t find out about it until twenty minutes ago. She’s been out for like thirteen hours. Alexia just told me while going door to door, locking us in.’

‘What!?’

Two memories flashed in succession in my head. A memory of me bonking my head last night; and a memory of me going into my stash for hooch, turning my back on Ash for five seconds while she had her hands hidden behind her back. I didn’t see those hands until she toasted to getting out.

I reached for the hard thing that was under my pillow. It was a sack full of Ash’s stash! And the keys she copied from Evelyn! Last night I banged my head on cans of Relief Cold Cream, the Keys to Everything, and other sundries.

There was a note:

I meant what I will have said last night. Keep this stuff, I wont be needing it. Sorry I don’t have any of your Cloud, but it’s hard to find of late. Cash, of course, I need. Put what I had in the mini fridge fund. I hope your date goes great, and I really hope you and Lauren get the best in life. Maybe I can look you up when you get out.

-A

P.S. Burn this note unless you’re in the mood for a spanking.

You magnificent bastard.

She would get captured sooner or later, I knew, so I refused to consider any of her stuff as my stuff. Ash would need cream for sure when Gregor got done with the caning to beat the record Ash currently held. She’d stripe Ash’s bottom into, well, ash…that girl was insane and wonderful.

Morning classes were canceled; we were all locked in while the goons and the goonlets made the rounds, so I had plenty of time for a dinkum thinkum.

OK, she didn’t get out through the Den. My reader would have told me, so Ash must have found a new way. That wasn’t important. Girls could get out of the building plenty of ways. The main building used to be a boarding school for rich or gifted Mason kids, after all. The crazy thing was getting through the South Fence. Ash had to get past the horses without freaking them out or waking up the grounds keeper Mr. Foxtrot. She had to get past the infra red triggered alarms. She had to get past the fence. Then she had to get past all the nothing beyond. But how?

I slapped my forehead.

It all hit me at once. I think I think retroactively. The wetsuit to keep in the body heat. The horse urine from Coach to smear over the wet suit so she would smell like a horse, keeping them calm while she snuck by. That big limb hanging over the fence she pointed out. Just add rope. And all the questions about the tree cutter’s four wheelers she asked that boy yesterday. She’d tool that muscle off-road badboy to civilization, or close enough to walk anyway.

My friend was free to run around and confound The Man for a few days, maybe a week. I was happy for her. But that wasn’t the best part. No, no the best part came later that day.

I sat at my desk outside Gregor’s office, pretending to arrange accounts that I finished thirty minutes before, listening to Evil-Lyn explain to Gregor how Ash got by her goonlets. Yes. Yes. Yes…..

CRACK

‘Seven! Thank you, ma’am!’

Yes, thank you, Ma’am. Thank you indeed.

I was actually pretty impressed. The blonde Georgia Peach kept to the script without adlibbing a “Ai!” or “Gaaah!” or “Just shoot me!” to the play. Of course it was easier to scream a number than keep quite all together.

CRACK!

‘Eight! Thank you, ma’am!’

Glorious. Evelyn’s such a giver: it’s nice to hear her get something back. It’s like It’s A Wonderful Life.

She got twelve over half an hour, due to all the lecturing. Unlike one of us little people, Gregor actually wanted to teach her top goonlet an important lesson in security. Took a little of the fun out of it. I thought about Matron’s loyal dog, over that damned desk, getting whacked with a newspaper. Loyal even during punishment.

And, ultimately, I’m not a vengeful person. I suffered a little cognitive dissonance while Evelyn suffered a little wood dissonance. On the one half of the brain, Evil-Lyn has sadistically spanked my lily-white-ass so often I lost count years ago: and what comes around goes around. On the other half of my brain, I didn’t actually bare malice towards the bitch. If she wasn’t spanking me, someone else would be, because I’m being reformed. I didn’t actually dislike her. Actually (and I understand I’m overusing the word “actually”) Evil-Lin was a person to admire if she wasn’t so freaking evil.

Also, to wish that cane on anybody would be making a deal with the devil. I don’t believe in the devil, but I also don’t believe in screwing around with whatever galactic darkness bore those canes and the will to use them.

Like getting shot in the back with a crossbow, that horrible feeling came over me. That feeling from the miserable night before. Waking to the news of Ash’s escape and whiling away the afternoon listening to the justified spank-karma only distracted me; but that hopeless feeling overcame me again and at last and forever. It was like falling: there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t grab anything, or flap my wings or anything. This happened to me all my life and I didn’t like it, and I wanted to cry for no freaking reason whatsoever. It was a lot of nothing in my heart.

I hated it. I didn’t know how to fight it.

Evil-Lyn closed the door behind her and paused. She looked alright. Breathing a little heavy, but she took it well. Somehow her hair was as perfect as ever, and her glowing face didn’t grimace or sulk at all. She even looked beautiful.

Again, a little impressed.

I am not a vengeful person, I have said, and I fully admit that I can be as petty as the next girl, but canings were something else so I didn’t beam a face of joy at my beautiful persecutor. I kept me face on my accounting and beat down any attempt at a smile, which wasn‘t hard because I felt like shit anyway, but seeing Evelyn sore bottom standing there did improve my mood a tad, just a tad; just enough wiggle room to breath. I tried to be grateful for that.

I heard her walk towards the door. Her gait was normal when others would have been stiff and measured. I already knew she was tough. Then she stopped, and walked towards me.

Oh shit.

‘Look at me.’ Her voice, unlike her walk, was quite measured, but it didn’t fool me. Looks like I’d get escorted to her room for a nice calorie burning lap dance. There was no way out of it, but I did have to hide a smidge of (vengeance?) lust out of my eyes when I dutifully looked at her big blue eyes. She leaned over the desk, supported by her palms, and gave me a firm, firm look of ill tidings.

‘I’m sure you enjoyed that, but you’re not thinking things through, which is exactly why a smart girl like you is in here in the first place. The difference between you and me is that you get spanked; I get disciplined. I know what I want to be, and I’m on track. Someday I’m going to run this place. Yeah, I need help. I need guidance from my elders, and I’m grateful for it, even though it’s painful. And it is painful, Archer. I’m not an ice queen; if you prick me enough with a cane, I bleed, it’s just that I know what I want, and I’m learning, and learning is painful. So you can gloat all you want that Matron caned me for a failure I admit to, and I wont even take revenge on you, even though we both know I could, because we also both know that with all your petty schemes and deals, you’re just a truck stuck in the mud, spinning your wheels.’

A hit. A very palpable hit.

God and Damn but that Georgian accent is awesome.

She walked away, but I didn’t want her to. ‘Evelyn,’ she stopped her departure and turned back to me. ‘I’m not prettier than you. We’re equally pretty. I’m just smarter.’ Evelyn looked at me wide eyed, then half knelt to the ground, fighting back her laughter so Gregor wouldn‘t hear. She bit her hand. I wanted to laugh too, but it wouldn’t be cool, so I forced the mirth down to a mere full faced wide and knowing smile. I looked very awesome I’m sure.

Lynn struck back.

‘No, we’re not equal. I’m prettier than you because I have the classic beach bunny features fit for Playboy. You have a… I don‘t know, an incomparable beauty. But I do appreciate you saying that, though.’

Is this how peace is made? It can’t be. No, I hate her. She SPANKS ME FOR FUN! She’s an evil bitch that tortures me with her classic beach bunny features. I mean hairbrush! That was a Freudian Slip. I mean that WASN’T a Freudian Slip! Damn it!

I gawked.

‘I…’

Gawking continued with no end in sight.

‘All the times I’ve whacked your butt,’ she said, smiling and shaking her head back and forth at how absurd reality is. ‘And finally I figured a way to shut that mouth of yours. I might be sainted for this.’

Gregor stormed out of her office wherein the mice could now play. ‘Oh, good, you‘re still here. Take Archer and find out what she knows about the escape. I’d do it myself but I need to talk to Praxis. She may know nothing, but I think she might, so be harsh.’ I was too startled to move, so Gregor twisted one of my ugly ears and dragged me to my feet. She tug-boated me so that I practically fell into Evelyn’s arms.

That hurt, but I kept that mouth of mine shut. Not out of pride. That feeling of falling came back to me, and frankly, sorry to be such a wuss, but I was too weak of will to react because nothing I did mattered. Nothingness somehow hurt.

‘Yes, ma’am. Right away.’

Evil-Lyn was back. She would no doubt claim she was just following orders at her trial for crimes against humanity. Good luck with that. She grabbed my arm and marched me to a spanking that would surely open that mouth of mine to free all the screams I had locked up in my diaphragm. And good riddance because I hated them.

Being marched to Evil-Lyn’s room was never preferred. Everyone I passed knew what was going to happen to my sexy bottom. Most tried to ignore it, some were sympathetic, and some gloated. I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead, dead to the world, but I could feel their eyes all over me as Evil-Lyn marched me to her torture chamber to give me the full price of admission.

I wasn’t mad at Ash. I understand why some would be, but that really is petty. I knew who Ash was when I decided to spend so much noticeable time with her, I knew what that could bring me, and now I was going to get it. Hell with it, it was going to happen eventually anyway, because that’s what happens when you get reformed.

Spanked.

We went in to Evil-Lyn’s fully stocked dungeon. I stood in the middle of her room, looking straight ahead at a Liz Phair poster, and listened to Evil-Lyn shut and lock the door. Didn’t know why she would lock it. She never had a roommate for long, probably for the same reasons spiders didn’t, and she didn’t have one now. Maybe it was to stop Superman from flying in when he hears my screams from his artic Fortress of Solitude. If only the world did have Superman. I don’t think we’d get weak. I think we’d try harder to match him. We always have, when great men shame us. But I didn’t really care.

Evil-Lyn’s lower rear-back-leg junction had been freshly whipped, so I didn’t expect the hairbrush, at least not at first as she’d have to sit. After giving me three or four dozen from her prison strap and a few coats of cold cream for her own bottom, her can would be able to sit on a pillow while she bruised every square inch of my defenseless hinterland with her hairbrush. That was just no fair way to wage a pillow fight. Hell with it. I’d rather be in mindless agony than wherever the Hell I was now, waging war within myself for the prize of nothing. I hated feeling this way. I felt like a traitor to everything my parents cared about, even their love for me. It was just hopeless and meaningless and nothing was good. I felt like a speck of dust on a tennis ball, only a matter of time before I got cast off into an infinity void of oxygen and land to stand. Nothing would be my grave forever. And my stomach hurt.

She popped in front of me from out of nowhere. I started, but kept my feet on mark. She bent my head to the right, and inspected my sore ear with her fingers and eyes. ‘Ya know, I respect Gregor, but sometimes she really is just a bitch. Did she hurt your ear much?’

What? ‘No, ma’am.’

‘It looks undamaged. They’re such cute ears, too. Some people just don’t appreciate beauty.’

What?

‘I’ve often wondered what kind of earrings I’d like to see on your adorable ears; if we were allowed rings in here.’ A thousand hairs told me she breathed on my neck while she rubbed out some of the sting in my adorable ear. ’Something austere. The rings. Something small and shiny so they attract attention without distracting attention. Oh well…’ She let go of my adorable ear and arranged her spanking chair in the middle of the room.

I had never told anyone about my hatred of my ears.

Never. One. Person.

I’ve hated my ears since I looked up the definition of the word “hate“. Ah, a strong dislike or loathing. This word is talking about my ears. They curve down too much, and are too flat against my head which was now swimming, because after all these decades of strongly disliking and loathing my ears, I knew one thing for certain.

I loved my ears.

Just what the Hell was going on here?

Evelyn sat down, grimaced, then shook the pain away with a smile that was almost a laugh. She shrieked in a German accent, ‘Vee must learn discipline!’ Was she high? Did Evelyn and Gregor smoke a joint between cane strokes? I know canings can gush endorphins into the blood stream, but I didn’t know they could get you baked. ‘Come here, girl.’

I’d walked to her side for a spanking like a hundred times before, but this one was harder because my feet were six miles beneath my head. I managed, stood on stilts at her left, and, with Evelyn’s help, eased over the soft warm lap of my spanker.

‘Danny,’ she lifted my skirt. ’You don’t know anything useful about St. Croix, do you?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘Now Danny,’ she put her fingertips under my panties, and eased them down twice as fast as a galloping snail. ’I know you know something about it that we don’t. What I’m asking, is,’ my panties were just about clearing the hump of my bottom which shook because some invisible person poked them with a live wire. I didn’t have any choice. I ground myself a little into that lap. I tried not to, but I had to a little. ‘Do you know anything that would actually help Gregor improve security around here?’ And they cleared.

‘No… no, Ma’am.’ It’s hard to talk without oxygen.

‘I thought so. Matron’s just mad. Still, you have no doubt been terribly naughty.’ The panties were well past my bottom now, but Evelyn leaned over to ease them all the way down to my ankles. Her breasts, bigger than mine, brushed against my back. ’I know you must have been involved somehow. Maybe you didn’t know it,’ her torso popped erect, then one second later her left palm popped against my right cheek. It was more shocking than painful. It wasn’t even painful, more like a jolt of that live wire, but my head bounced like she had caned me. I sucked in air. It’s hard to be depressed when you have to suck in air to live. ’But you should have known something and reported it. So, I’m afraid, I’ll have to spank your bottom pink,’ SMACK. ‘and let this be a lesson to you!’

Smack… smack… smack at a steady pace. I could feel her stomach and hips through her shirt and skirt rotate to give her rising and falling arm all the force it wanted to smack smack smack one cheek then the other then back again, each one producing a pulse that made the thousand hairs on the back of my neck flare.

My head bounced with each smack.

Vulnerable.

‘Ahhhh… Danny Archer’s nicely toned bubble butt. Do you mind me calling you “Danny“? I can’t very well call you Danielle because that’s Gregor’s first name.’ Smack. Smack. Smack… ‘My favorite bottom, hands down. (SMACK!) Ha! But really, I feel a pride over it. When you got here your glutes were flat and just blah.’ Smack… smack… smack… now my whole body bounced with each spank. I was not being beaten or tortured. She kept on talking and spanking. ’But after three years, the Coach and I have honed your rear end into something… I wish I was as good at finding words as you.’ Smack smack smack smack. ‘Something with a lot of syllables. Ah, that’s it.’ Smack… smack… smack… smack…. smack… ’Your fanny is ostentatious. Like you.’ Smack… Smack… SMACK… SMACK… SMACK…. SMACK… SMACK… SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK.

I found myself bucking over her lap. Grinding like a whore. I screamed out a mewling purr, which is something I’ve never done before and still not sure how I do it today. From my end of the joint venture it’s more an art than a science. I let go of the chair legs and dug my nails into Evelyn’s toned ankles. Harder I dug the harder and faster came the spanks.

And was I ever being spanked. Evelyn spanked my naughty bottom. She didn’t wail, or beat, or torture, or even punish my ostentatious bottom. She disciplined me by spanking me for going out of control ostentatious.

I was being spanked.

Time somehow kept rolling on without me as a witness until lightning struck me and every single intrusive thought or stomach wrenching negative emotion flew out of my body to ports unknown. I knew what I had to do. I found myself breaking free from Evelyn, backing up a step, and charging her. I grabbed her by her perfect hair and by the arm she had spanked me to tears with time and time again, and brought her to the floor in a simple wrestling move.

I penned her helpless, and tried to swallow her head. Helpless as she was, she was bigger and stronger than me, and she tried to swallow me back, so we struggled on the ground of her dorm room for a couple of hours in a pitched stalemate until passing out.

I still say I won.

* * *

Good and evil are tricky Platonic Forms to those of us whose grasp of noumenals is driving off the fourth dimensional rails on a crazy train. The female fixing my tie was, without a doubt, evil. She was Evil-Lyn. If you put all the Lyn’s of the world in one auditorium, you could spot her raised hand by asking in a microphone, “Hey, anybody here like the smell of brimstone?” But doesn’t evil have a place?

I try to be multicultural.

‘So,’ I began, not knowing were I was going.

‘Yes?’ She asked. Evelyn seemed unconfused, at least with me, but she wasn’t satisfied with my tie so she pulled it out and tried again. I didn’t mind. I sort of liked how strong she was about it, shaking me back and forth like a tree in the wind. Hands tying down my neck like she owned it.

‘Well, you know…’

‘What? Damn it, that Windsor never put a tie on someone else, I can tell you that… sorry. What, sweety?’

Sweety? What the Hell did that mean? Endearing, or dismissive? Then it clicked.

‘You’ve never put a tie on a girl?’

‘No.’ She snorted as if I’d ask if she’d ever unified quantum mechanics with the general theory of relativity. Instead she worked my tie. I watched it dawn on her perfect but not so quick face. Her eyes met mine when her mind met a conclusion. ’I’m not some lesbian taking advantage of you girls.’

‘I didn’t think that, but…’

‘I’m not even sure I’m a lesbian.’

‘Myself,’ I confessed. “It never even occurred to me until you said the word.’ I bit my lip. She pried my lip out gently but firmly. Her fingers were stronger than my lips.

‘Bad habits need to be nipped in the bud. You don’t want to callus your lips. At least, I don’t want you to, so you wont.’ She awkwardly returned her hands to my tie, but she didn’t get back to work. She kept her eyes on me.

‘So,’ I said. ’I would like… I am curious as to your opinion of a plan of mine, which is rather hard to explain because it involves a lot of data I don’t have yet, but I’m very open to, involving problematic adaptations in this transient world; this plan not wholly dictated by any one agent or force of will, but instead requires the consent of a small oligarchy, practically a limited liability partnership, as to the future course of upcoming events, plots, preparations, stratagems, and end-game game theories; for example, Prisoner’s Dilemma.’

I think Evelyn broke my syntax bone when I was winning our fight on the floor.

The evil girl smiled at me. It was both awesome and condescending. Made me a little mad.

‘Or whatever. You know. What-ever. I’m just saying that I have homework so I can’t just stand here all day being pushed around while you fix my tie if you…’ Evil-Lyn let go of my necktie, grabbed my neck, and forced me to caress her shoulders while she kissed me for a couple of minutes, the pushy bitch.

After a couple a million minutes she pealed me off and gave me that knowing smile. ‘Anything else you want to say, big mouth?’

‘Yeah. Nice Liz Phair poster.’

‘Eh, it has a tear in it. I covered it with tape, but I know it’s still--’

Somebody knocked on the door. Damn it, Superman, by now you should know the difference between a cry for help and a cry of ecstasy!

Evelyn was at my ear in a flash of whispers. ‘I just whipped you unmerciful.’ And was at the door. I got into character, stood straight, let my crest fall, as I was broken, and rubbed my pink bottom which felt like it was made of a candy coated beach drenched in moonlight enriched Van Morrison air fantastico.

‘You done with her?’ Matron Gregor asked from the sill, holding a large plastic bag.

‘Yes, Ma’am. She doesn’t know anything. She said “stop” plenty, but I kept giving it to her to give me what I wanted. She screamed plenty, but nothing she said justified an end to the exercise, from my perspective, so I think I pushed her beyond the limits. She was a bit of wild horse at first, but I broke her.’

‘Good. You did go over everything.’

‘Every inch of the objective, ma’am.’

‘Thoroughly?’

‘It took a lot of sweat and wrestling, but I made her yell until she was putty in my hands. She gave me everything she had, but nothing substantial. About St. Croix.’

Gregor nodded. ’I can see you really worked her over. Your uniform is a mess.’ Evelyn straightened her uniform. ‘Archer. Did Trustee Evelyn teach you something about keeping secrets?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ I was crestfallen. ‘No more secrets, ma’am.’

‘Good.’ She looked me up and down and damned if she wasn’t impressed. Gregor looked at my favorite trustee and smiled. ’Very good. Exhausting a compliant girl like Archer without certain knowledge of malfeasance took will to duty. I’m going to begin teaching you the cane, and higher administration basics, Trustee Gruber, if you think you’re ready.’

Evelyn’s back was to me, but not so much that I couldn’t see her grow three inches in height. That doesn’t make any sense to me either, but that’s what I saw at the time.

’Yes… Yes, Ma’am. I’m ready, ma’am.’

‘Good. Here,’ Gregor handed over the bag. I’d recognize the clink of Relief Cold Cream cans while traveling in the Hindenburg on a bad day. ’Come to my office in one hour. Are you sure you’re done with this one?’

‘For the moment, ma’am.’ Gregor smiled Wicked Witch of the SS style, then closed the door behind her. We did it as if it were planned. I bit her neck and she bit my palm. Clutched such, We rode out our craving for laughter until I needed a damn good nap.

‘You broke me?’

‘Had to, I wanted to make an omelet. Hey,’ she lifted my chin with her beautiful spanking fingers. ‘No more secrets.’

‘Not about us. But I’d never rat on another girl…’ She kissed me.

‘I’d never ask. We’ll figure out how this works, but I’d never ask. Besides, that’d take the fun out of the snark hunt.’

‘Well, I have to ask. What’s with the bag of Relief? May I use one of the cans of Relief on your caned chastised caboose while I seduce you with awful alliteration?’ I had a can of Cloud on me, but I’d rather snoop.

‘Later.’ She flicked my nose. Adorable. Almost as adorable as my ears. ‘Confiscated cold cream is put back into circulation through the trusties. We get a dollar a can, the rest goes to the school’s investments. Mutual Funds, gym equipment, crap like that. I love social capitalism.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

‘Let me think.’ I’d never heard that before, and something like that I should have heard by now. And that third account that I couldn’t get out of my head. One dollar… that fit a consistent yet unexplained depreciation between the second and third money flow marks, as I call them. I’m not a real accountant, as the school teaches homespun household accounting, so I had to make up my terms of art. Upton Sinclair sold the cans at thirteen dollars, which meant they bought at ten. One dollar to the trusty, I mean goonlet, would leave Gregor one dollar. Except the numbers were way too high. Not nearly that many cans are confiscated. And why only the Relief brand? There were a dozen others that got confiscated.

‘What is it?’

‘Oh. Nothing. How long has this been going on?’

She smiled at me.

‘Snoop! Mind your business. Go do that homework you told me about.’ She whirled behind me, held me by the shoulders, and walked me slow to the door I didn’t want to exit, but only because she was licking my adorable left ear.

‘Homework? I only said that because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.’

‘I know, but do you have homework?’

Damn it!

‘Yeah.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Man it’s sexy saying that.

‘Stop.’ She snapped my skirt up and pulled my panties down with cold efficiency, all with her face in mine, her hands working across my hips which tingled in delight like my adorable ears. ’One for forgetting to call me “ma’am”, one for your homework equivocation.’ SMACK SMACK from her hand on my butt, pushing each time my face closer to hers. I wanted her clothes off.

Evelyn spun me around and enveloped me with a behind the back hug, and nuzzled my adorable ear with her nose. ’Later we’ll talk about this prisoner’s dilemma. Daddy has work to do.’ She pulled up my panties, adjusted them just the way I just then realized I liked it, then snapped my skirt.

‘But my tie is loose.’

SMACK

‘Just because I felt like it. Now scoot!’

I scooted, which was strange since I couldn’t feel my knees.