Strictland Academy Read online

  "Hours. Sometimes even overnight. See how kind I am, Compton?"

  "Yes, sir," she whispered. "I am very grateful."

  Dr. Wells winked at her as he lifted her to the commode, reached between her legs, and ordered her to relax as he removed the nozzle. She wanted to fling her arms around his handsome neck and beg him to take her away from this place, willing to give him anything he desired if he would do just that. He knew her thoughts, patting her tea-stained cheek as her insides erupted from her. His eyes told her to give him time and that he would find a way to save all of them!

  He knew! Oh, Thank the good Lord, he knew! Silently, he cleaned her, placed her in a set of clean diapers, and slipped her dress over her head. On impulse, she hugged him and reluctantly repeated the same gesture to the other doctor. April had understood the younger man's silent message: Gain whatever support you can.

  CHAPTER 8

  When April presented to the classroom, Molly grabbed her hand and pulled her to the desk next to her. Strictland's idea of education was to have them either read out loud from the Book of Declarations, to memorize rules and then recite them in front of the class, or to copy passages. These methods, of course, lent themselves easily to discipline—stumbling when reading the Declarations was considered disrespectful, and therefore, punishable. Forgetting a word to a memorized rule was considered an act of defiance, and therefore, punishable. The same concept was applied to the copying of passages. Any mistake, even a blur made from an escaped tear, was seen as a lack of self-control and disrespect. Every person who transgressed was caned immediately, without ceremony or warning, and the frequency increased when the room above contained visitors.

  Within an hour of April's arrival, Molly was dragged to the front of the room, bent over the back of a chair, and ordered to hold the seat without moving. A puddle was already forming on the floor directly beneath her face before Attendant Hazel even began the punishment. The prune faced woman produced a formidable-looking belt and mottled the poor girl's backside with raised wheals and welts. The strapping only stopped after Molly slumped to the floor in defeat; bruised and broken.

  The second portion of their school day, dedicated to home economics, was conducted in the room next door. There was a single kitchen setup, as well as a regular classroom with desks. It was here that the 'young ladies' were taught proper etiquette, pouring over select portions of ancient manuals that dealt with Victorian ideals of modesty, comportment, household budget management, wifely duties, and submission to the head of the home. The theme, however, fixated upon submission to all authority. They followed an inflexible agenda, and nothing less than a perfect score on all tests and quizzes was acceptable.

  'You need only to bring shame one time to your husband to destroy your marriage,' the attendant squawked, looking up at the dark faces behind the glass wall. She then announced that each student would receive a cane stroke for every percent lost on her grade. This was a sentence of doom for the girls whose talents rested in areas that did not include academics.

  Unfortunately, Molly was one such student. More so, the woman who taught Home Economics was Attendant Patience. This was the same woman who had promised retribution after Molly attempted to rescue Patricia while in the steam room. Patience's bodily stature was a rarity for Strictland: fairly small and relatively delicate, and she remained fairly soft-spoken while in a classroom setting. In this environment, she presented herself as walking proof of perfect decorum, grace, and poise, but her smaller frame and classic ladylike mannerisms did not make her any less ferocious than her fellow attendants. As seen that day with Patricia, she simply called upon the prefects to assist her in whatever dirty job she required be done.

  She had no tolerance for illiteracy or air-headedness, and Molly already had a black mark against her. When Molly made multiple horrendous errors in reading aloud the proper dinner party table settings, Patience seized her opportunity for vengeance. With the help from a prefect, Molly was laid across the Attendant's desk, with her book in front of her. Her bottom was bared, and lash after lash was delivered upon her flesh with a wooden spoon—five for each mistake she made. By the time the class ended, Molly was limping and drained of tears, her eyes taking on the same haunted look of forlorn adopted by the majority of inmates.

  She looked up to the rafters and tearfully peered in the direction of those who had used her as entertainment. Anguish covered her face, and she barely responded to April's reassuring hand-squeeze and whispered promise that they would be rescued. The words of reassurance that they had a savior were lost in the blinding fog of hatred, as were the words of advice: to 'play the game' until the opportunity was right for Dr. Wells to help them.

  ***

  Unable to sleep that night due to her pain, Molly eavesdropped on some of the other girls and their stories. Evie's story was fairly innocent. She had taken a shine to a local boy and stayed out with him past area curfew. The fact that they had not been caught doing anything unseemly did not matter to her nervous, single mother who struggled with a set of young twins and a janitorial job with the local church. Desperate to avoid any possibility of her daughter making a poor decision, and to avoid appearing sinful before her employers, the mother approached a parishioner for help. He was, coincidentally, the same judge responsible for the sentencing of most of the other inmates. Like the other parents, Evie's mother was encouraged by the judge to force her daughter to accept an ultimatum. He announced that the wayward girl obviously required structure, especially after being raised without the guidance of a father, and therefore would benefit from either the military or a specialized instructional institution—Strictland. He added that the latter would guarantee Evie the State’s approval for marriage, and promised that the facility would take the responsibility to find a proper husband.

  Evie paused, recalling that her mother was also told that the men who procured a Strictland girl helped provide for the girl's family as well; therefore, her mother and little brothers would be taken care of for as long as she was married. That was enough to encourage her mother to scrape together every penny she had for the initial tuition required by the school.

  Because her mother was essentially destitute, the judge further sweetened the pot by offering to take Evie under a conservatorship and defer future tuition. From the moment the papers were signed, Evie lost all command of her own life and her future. She became a legal ward of the state for an indefinite period and would only be released upon her marriage to a suitable partner. Tearfully, the girl also admitted that she had been Attendant Angela's most recent 'favorite,' and that it was not a situation she would wish upon anybody. Because of that, none of the would-be suitors were interested in her.

  Others told similar tales, either having been in minor trouble with the law or considered to be rebellious, and how their mothers had been directed towards this same judge and convinced of the raving benefits that Strictland would provide. The bait included appropriate matchmakings with wealthy, educated, and worldly men that would ensure that the girl would experience a life well beyond anything the area could ever offer, as well as the chance for a formal education and to travel. They were promised that both the girl and her family would be financially cared-for after the completion of their sentence if she married. Each story ended with a choke in their voice and wishes they had been more obedient, sensitive to others' needs, or that they had chosen the military in lieu of Strictland.

  "Be real. We all know that we were never really given much of a choice," Evie said, bitterly. "That judge manipulated and shamed our moms. You know damn well he pocketed the money and is probably getting a percentage of whatever the buyers pay for us! And you also know damn well that these sick perverts are going to be even worse than the bitches here."

  "I think anywhere would be better than this place. I would give anything for a soft bed and nice clothes ... I wonder what kind of house the judge lives in," another girl said, dreamily. "I bet you he knows what real food tastes like, too."
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br />   “Do you hear yourself? Fantasizing about being taken away from here is not going to change the fact that these bastards shamed and blackmailed our mothers." Molly's voice grew frantic. "Oh, my God, they sell us like we were whores! We have to find a way out!"

  Derisive snorting greeted her statement. One tall, stocky girl spoke up for the first time. "I've been here since the place was opened. I've only ever seen maybe ten girls leave voluntarily. One of them works in the cafeteria, shoveling food on our plates and never looking us in the eye. Eight of them were released to the care of an observer. There was an assembly, and these guys just picked them out of the crowd, like they were eggs in a basket. They were led away, and no one said anything. Nor did they return. As for the other two, rumor had it that they were supposedly married to other headmasters who were friends of Headmaster Judas,” she stated, ominously." I think they were sold into slavery, myself. Or sent to a brothel, which is pretty much the same thing."

  “I think that the only way you get released is if we are taken up by one of these men or are too old to make a baby. Remember the women’s cut off age for a pregnancy permit is twenty-eight. This judge has the police in his pocket and could strip our mothers of everything, and they know it,” another veteran ventured. "But if you were signed off, and he is your conservator, you are truly and royally fucked. Our only hope is that the State sees the truth during their inspections, but I don't know how that can be done. Everyone is watched like a hawk, and the interviews with the population are not permitted to be unsupervised by an attendant. Even the attendants are supervised by one another."

  Molly seethed. She wanted out, and come hell or high water, she was going to leave this place. She had no intent of waiting like a sacrificial lamb for this 'savior' of April's to make a move. It would take planning and time, and she would succeed. Molly knew she needed as much information about the layout of the place as possible, as well as everyone's routines. She needed to know when visitors came to observe, when outside deliveries were made and by whom, and where the authorities went during the late hours. Who did what, where, and when was crucial information that might well keep her from being caught. She also hoped she could convince April and Patricia to come with her. She paused to wonder briefly about Patricia and how she was faring in the hands of the infirmary's nurse. At least she was temporary free of the constant assaults rained down on the rest of them.

  It had been one week since they arrived, and Molly waited, continuously looking for answers to help her plan her escape. As LeClair completed her nightly ritual of molesting April, Molly casually gleaned information from the other girls. She discovered that the eleven o'clock check-in consisted of unlocking the door and shining the flashlight over the entire floor in search of empty bunks. There was never a need to enter the room, unless a problem was spotted, and the inmates were too careful to invite that sort of attention which would disrupt their ‘after hours recreation’. Molly also found out that there was a storage room that led to the outside. The room was adjacent to the lavatory, and the door was often propped open, so that whatever attendant was assigned to that duty didn't have to bother the irate headmaster for the key. All-in-all, the prospect of escape appeared feasible; Molly felt a sense of contentment overtake her as she closed her eyes and slept.

  The following day was Sunday, and after being forced to attend services conducted by Headmaster Judas himself, the girls were free to do anything they wished in the confines of the barracks. Molly looked up and smiled as Dr. Wells escorted Patricia inside.

  "Relax, girls, I am only here to deliver your companion," he said, eying the group carefully. His eye fell upon Molly. "How are you holding up? I understand they have been very strict with you."

  "I deserve it, sir," Molly said demurely, facing the ground.

  "None of the attendants are here. Tell me...."

  "The prefects do a fine job on keeping things under control, Sir. They are very proficient in their jobs. They make certain that we always have someone keeping an eye on us for our safety," Molly said, tilting her chin upward, hoping the man would catch the hint.

  "Indeed they are!" Dr. Wells praised. Molly exhaled with relief.

  He clapped his hands. "Might I have your attention, ladies. We were just informed that the State will be coming for inspection in about two weeks. I will want the chance to interview each of you and determine how this experience is helping you mature and focus on growth. Please put your names on the sign-up sheet for your appointment. This interview takes priority over all activities except meals."

  He turned to Patricia. "I have left specific instructions that you are not to be struck with anything made of non-flexible material, including wood, plastic or metal. That does not mean you will not be punished, so I do expect you to be on your best behavior."

  "Yes, Sir," Patricia whispered, looking into his eyes gratefully. He touched her chin and left the room.

  "What happened to you?" Molly whispered, carefully climbing next to the girl on the bunk. "Something is different."

  "He is so wonderful and caring," Patricia sighed. "He saved me. Like my knight in shining armor, he came to my rescue."

  "Don't let him fool you," April growled. "He is as bad as the others. He was supposed to get me in his office to talk, so I could tell him what was really happening here, and he didn't. And he lets that old pervert fondle me every day I have to go in for that damned enema."

  "No, he isn't like them! He is good and decent, and he hates what is happening here. He only does what he has to in order to keep them from being suspicious. They put a brake on everything he does, and it is their fault that he isn't being allowed to talk to anyone privately. He is as stuck as we are, too! He has no phone, no vehicle, and can't leave without a pass. Guess who gives passes to the staff!"

  "Attendant Angela," both April and Molly groaned.

  "He is going to help us. We have to trust him," Patricia begged.

  “Okay, so you have a massive crush on the doctor, but the fact is, he is one of them. And he is powerless to help us, even if he really wanted to. Listen," Molly whispered, "I'm not going to spend any more time than I absolutely have to in this wretched place. I don't care what they do to me if I get caught. Even jail has to be better than this, and I found out that those articles about the prison are mostly fake. They were printed for us to read and used to force us in this direction. I am going to be watching for my chance, and then I am leaving. I'd like to bring the two of you with me, if you're game."

  "I would walk over hot coals to get out of this place. The longer they keep me like this," she gestured to the diaper, "the more I will lose real control of myself. It is already becoming too easy not to have to wait. I am also getting the feeling that one of those guys," she glanced up at the observation room, "is interested in me. If he gets off seeing me like this, I am screwed for the rest of my life. I'm in."

  Patricia was the least enthusiastic, citing what terrible trouble they'd be in if they were caught, and again emphasizing how her savior would swoop down and find a way out. Even if he could just get word to her mother, he would do something. She shifted on a newly-healed bottom, still afraid to bear any weight upon it.

  “I don't think I can, girls,” Patricia said, tearfully. "I'm sorry."

  "You realize that they might punish you if they think you know anything."

  Patricia looked at the clenched fingers in her lap. She clenched her fist into a tight ball, pressing her nails deep into the palm. "I know they might. But that would be better than if I'm caught. I'll just wait here until my parents come for me."

  Molly frowned at just how delusional she sounded, clinging to something impossible. “Patricia, they aren't coming. They can't. They were conned into abandoning all of us. I know you don't want to believe it, but this place is a front for human trafficking. They sell us to the highest bidders and buy our families silence with monetary payoffs."

  "It can't be. That's impossible. Dr. Wells would never ..."

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sp; "I don't think he knows yet, and we have not had the chance to tell him. He couldn't do anything, anyway," Molly said, calmly. "You won't say anything, will you?"

  Patricia shook her head solemnly. "Oh no, of course not. On my honor!” she gestured, crossing her heart.

  "Very well. Just be careful. April, it's just you and me. We will be free very soon. I promise."

  CHAPTER 9

  The days following her release from Dr. Wells' care became a recurring nightmare for Patricia. Resentment from the girls already ran deep, and she was shunned from all activities and after-hour conversations. The attendants sought any opportunity to impart 'firm discipline' to Patricia, reminding her that this break was temporary, and that the simpering doctor could not save her from the wrath of the attendants forever. She had lost count of how many times she was hand spanked, strapped with a short tawse, paddled with a leather slipper, or how many combinations of all three.

  When she tenderly sat down on her raw mass of flesh at dinner, LeClair caught her yelp of pain and immediately hauled her over a raised knee, supported by her foot on the bench. The inmates animosity towards Patricia was blatant for, as soon as her behind was bared and LeClair began striping it with her leather wrist strap, loud chants and cheers arose and demanding more intensity.

  The Attendants did nothing to stop the beating, chuckling and making comments of the girl finally getting her 'just desserts.' LeClair laid ten cutting slices into a bottom that was already in a very sorry state, stopping only when a slight bluish tinge arose. She tugged Patricia to stand, hiking the slender girl's dress high enough to permit her bottom to directly contact the seat. The sobbing young woman was pressed firmly onto the bench before her plate, her shoulders held down by big, work-roughened hands. Patricia's eyes widened as her flesh touched a piece of material that had dried rice glued to it. The hard grains bit painfully into her sensitized flesh, and any shifting in her seat caused a sensation of scraping.