Strictland Academy (9 page)

“
Since
you have almost a full half-day left, there's no reason why you can't start
now.
 
Attendant Rachel, these are
the three new miscreants.
 
They're
all yours."

They
were rapidly separated and assigned a station consisting of a clamshell
contraption into which an article of clothing was placed.
 
Once done, the lid was closed, steam
applied, and the garment removed.
 
This mundane routine was to be their life, filling every moment when not
in 'school' and all day on Saturday.

“
Your
normal quota will be three hundred items a day, but since you only have a
half-day, your quota will be one-hundred-and-seventy-five.
 
Part of our revenue comes from providing
this service for paid clients outside of the facility, so we expect care and
perfection when handling garments that are obviously not associated with
Strictland,
”
Attendant Rachel advised, signaling to divide the enormous piles.
 
"There will be no breaks, no
sitting, and no complaining.
 
Every
hour someone will bring you some water, but it would behoove you to drink it
quickly and not dawdle. Do you have any questions? You have this one time to
ask without punishment."

The
list of more thou shalt nots were issued, and Molly's dizzy head swam with both
exhaustion and anger. How was it that Strictland could not afford the resources
to heat the facility and bring some warmth to the inmates, yet they could waste
it steaming clothes? The need for heat was desperate after the layer of post-war
pollution blocked the sun for nearly a decade, which was nearly fatal for a
society that was once driven by solar power.

“
Attendant?
I am confused,
”
Molly bravely uttered.
“
Where
did you get the raw fuel to power this operation? We were told all the natural
resources like coal and oil were essentially gone and that what we have is
rationed.
 
It
'
s
also illegal to chop down trees, and there are no wind turbines or solar power
units that work because of the atmospheric pollution. I don
’
t understand how the
State would support such waste.
”

“
Noisy
thing aren
't
you?
”
the attendant snapped.
“
It
is none of your business how fuel is obtained from our facility or how we chose
to use it.
 
It amazes me about how
you girls complain about the cold and yet, here you are, nice and warm, and you
complain about that.
 
Get to work
and count your blessings!
”

After
two hours in the grueling heat, Molly looked across her station to see Patricia
crumble to the floor in a dead faint, overtaken by the oppressive humidity,
lack of nutrition and water, and the ordeals of the day.
 
April and Molly ran to her rescue and
were intercepted, screaming as leather smacked at their thighs for leaving
their posts without permission.

One
of the prefects threw a bucket of murky water over the unconscious girl and
dragged her bodily to the front of the room.

“
All
stop!
”
One of the attendants
commanded.
 
"Pay
attention.
 
This one thinks that
she'll get away with not doing any work by fainting, making the rest of you
have to pick up her slack.
 
Is that
appropriate behavior?"

“
No,
Attendant Patience!
”
A
unified shout met April and Molly's ears.

“
What
does a lay-about get when she is discovered at Strictland Academy?"

“
Twelve
of the best, Attendant Patience!
”

“
I
think that, with the resistance she demonstrated, she can get half again as
much to teach her not to make such a fuss next time, right, girls?"

“
Yes,
Attendant Patience."

Patricia
could barely lift her head, let alone support her own body weight.
 
She was grabbed under the arms by two of
the older attendants and hauled to a tall, shackled pommel horse located on the
far side of the room.
 
Despite her
inability to struggle, she was roughly laid over it so that neither her hands
nor feet were touching ground.
 
The
chains to which the cuffs were attached were adjusted, so that she was held
taut, arms and legs outstretched uncomfortably.
 
Her dress was lifted in the back and
bunched under her armpits to display her already discolored backside.

Attendant
Patience removed a formidable-looking cane from the wall and whipped it in the
air.
 
She glanced up towards the
viewing room and smiled, releasing the cane to cut through the air again.
 
The sound of swooshing caused all the
inmates to wince.

"The
steam room is the perfect place to store our canes, isn't it ladies?
 
It keeps them so nice and pliable, and
weighs them down to help them cut a little deeper.
 
Didn't I teach you that in class?"
the abominable woman announced.
 
She
brought the implement to Patricia's mouth and commanded,
“
Kiss the instrument of
your correction, girl!
”

Patricia's
huge eyes were filled with unshed tears as she did as she was told, and she
slumped in defeat as hopelessness descended upon her.
 
The Attendant stood behind her as the
cane was laid against her bottom, foreshadowing what was to come.
 
The woman's short, slender arm was
pulled back as she ordered,
“
Count
the strokes, girls!
”

As
the practiced chorus of
“
One!
”
was shouted, the cane
slashed with sadistic ease across the bare skin.
 
Patricia shuddered in silent endurance
as her body ceased to function on it's own accord.

Attendant
Patience growled, clearly annoyed that the stroke had not produced a cry of
resistance.
 
When the room shouted
“
Two!
”
she sent the cane slicing
across the girl's lower thighs.
 
Still no reaction.
 
Four more
counts were called and four more lashes striped the girl, who continued to
numbly accept her defeat.
 
Angrily,
the attendant tossed the cane aside.

"It
is time we try something different, since this slut seems to be enjoying her
treatment.
 
Hand me the
Singapore!"

Long,
thick and stubbed with knots, this instrument could be devastating in
experienced hands, and Attendant Patience's were certainly that.
 
She relentlessly delivered four flawless
strokes, each becoming more violent and damaging.

"Stop
that at once!" a man shouted, his deep voice overpowering the sound of the
shouted counts and equipment.
 
"I said to stop it immediately!"

Dr.
Wells stormed in and snatched the instrument from Attendant Patience's hands
and snapped it into three pieces before throwing it to the floor.
 
His look was murderous, causing everyone
to hold their breath as he glared at the group.

"Release
that child!
 
Don't even think of
arguing with me or you will be trussed up in her stead."

"She
is being disciplined for laziness!
 
You cannot ..."

"She
fainted, Dr. Wells," Molly whispered.
 
"It wasn't her fault.
 
She is hypoglycemic and hasn't eaten or drunk anything since ..."

"You
shut up.
 
You will be next, and ..."
the attendant hissed.

"I
was just following up on our new students and I come in and see this!
 
I swear to God that if you touch any more
of these girls without good cause, you will feel how effective
I
am with
the cane."
 
Dr. Wells voice
took on a low, menacing growl.
 
"Now, unshackle her."

Attendant
Patience swallowed nervously as she obeyed, uncuffing Patricia from the horse.

The
doctor gathered the limp body in his arms and gently shook her.
 
"Patricia?
 
Wake up.
 
I'm taking you to the infirmary.
 
As for you," he snarled at the
attendant, "I will be watching your every move.
 
I will return and intend to take careful
notes on the physical condition of these young women.
 
I am warning you," his expression
was deadly, "if I discover you are beating them or issuing punishment
without justifiable reasons, you will answer to me. After that, the State will
be notified. Do I have to remind you that the law dictates that anyone
committing deliberate acts of violence will be sentenced to the penitentiary
without a trial?"

With
that final threat hanging in the still air, he departed with the unconscious
girl cradled in his arms.
 
The
deafening silence in the room was frightening, especially for Molly.
 
She had made an enemy.

"Divide
that chit's work up among you and be certain to have it completed.
 
As for you," Attendant Patience
hissed at Molly, "watch your back.
 
This rebellion will not go unpunished.
 
Like my name states ... I am very
patient.
 
Your time will come, and
he will not be here to save you."

Everyone
quickly returned to their own duties and immersed themselves in the grueling
labor.
 
Within the hour, the new
girls witnessed the purpose of the straight-backed chairs set in the four
corners of the room.
 
The attendants
sat comfortably in them to supervise, as well as using them to deliver
over-the-knee punishments whenever they felt one of
“
their girls
”
wasn't working up to
potential, was displaying a rebellious spirit, or was perceived to be taking a
break.
 
It was also obvious that the
number of sessions, and the degree of intensity involved, increased in the
presence of the men who watched in silence from the glass rooms above them.

The
Attendants believed that randomized disciplinary measures kept even the hardest
cases well in line, especially when the punishment was particularly harsh or
shamefully juvenile.
 
Being
bare-bottomed over an older woman's lap was just too maternal and too childish
for the average young woman to bear without embarrassment.
 
The complete indignity of the position
heightened their humiliation and made them cry even harder, even if they were
only being spanked with a hardened palm.

Molly
and April managed to make it through the rest of their shift without incurring
any additional chastisements.
 
At
the sound of the bell, they blindly followed the others from the workhouse to
the cafeteria for dinner.
 
Exhausted
and starving, the disappointing fare of a boiled potato, two hard-boiled eggs,
a ladle of succotash, and a piece of stale wheat bread seemed a feast.
 
Sitting was another matter, however, as
their severely-bruised rumps protested the hard bench beneath them.

Molly
was exhausted, and even the process of feeding herself took effort.
 
She had not completed her meal when the
prefect at the table stood.
 
Dumbly,
she stood with everyone else and followed the lead to line up at the garbage
can.
 
The prefect, LeClair,
inspected their plates as they passed and clapped her thick hand over Molly's
wrist as she began to scrape away what remained of her food.
 
Molly looked into the prefect's eyes
with confusion, suddenly self-conscious of the stares from the viewing room
above.
 
Was this whole thing an
act to impress voyeurs?
 
Who were
these people?
 
These questions
never left Molly's lips.

“
Do
you think you are on a vacation here, Petry?
 
There are people starving outside these
walls and, here you are, trying to waste all that good food!
 
If that is not bad enough, you compound
your error by, bold as brass, looking me in the eye.
 
You think you have a protector here,
don't you?
 
But even your precious
doctor won't deny the severity of wasting food, or that you dared to forget
yourself and give me such a confrontational look.
 
Come with me."

Molly
was dragged over to one of the unoccupied straight-backed chairs that leaned
against the walls of the room and yanked unceremoniously over the husky young
woman's lap.
 
Her dress was hauled
up to her armpits, leaving her completely bare from the breasts down, and her
protests and struggles were useless against the two girls who were called over
to restrain her.
 
Molly's wrists
were gathered together and pinned to the floor with her captor leaning all of
her weight on them, while her ankles shared the same treatment.