The following story was inspired by "Enslaving Laurie," written by
Laura Lynn Davis. (The framework is similar, up to a point, but
there are significant differences in details and direction.) I
sent her two e-mails, but received no reply.
THE INQUIRY
by
C. Lakewood
Alice Arliss was swept back in time as she drove between the
limestone pillars that marked the entrance to the grounds of
Briarcliff Academy. She had been sent off to a school very much
like it 21 years before...a private school for bright, problem
girls from rich families. Though Briarcliff had an excellent
academic reputation, there were anonymous accusations that its
disciplinary practices constituted abuse. Based on her background,
her status as a feminist lawyer, her proximity to the school, and
her political connections, the state board of education had
appointed Alice to investigate those allegations. At age 36,
she was also expected to be young enough to remember her own
school days and old enough for any biases -- pro or con -- to
have faded.
Now the main building came into view, in weather-stained buff
and grey, a strangely attractive mixture of Palladian and Gothic.
It was early yet, and there were still areas of low-lying fog that
the sun had not yet burnt off. She shivered. ("Perfect," she
thought.)
The state did allow the option of corporal punishment. For
public schools, the decision was made, on a district-wide basis,
by the local boards of education. Each private school made its own
rules, however, and virtually all of them had strict disciplinary
codes. But parents did have to sign a consent form, and, of
course, punishments could not be so severe as to be deemed
"excessive."
Outwardly, Briarcliff seemed to be doing an admirable job.
Tuition was astronomical, but an unbelievable percentage of
the school's graduates went on to complete college. And many
eventually earned advanced degrees, with the customary honors
en route.
Alice parked in a space marked "Visitor," took a deep breath,
marched up the broad, worn limestone steps, and pulled the bell
handle.
A young woman, attractive despite her supercilious expression,
answered the door.
"Alice Arliss. I have a seven o'clock with the headmistress."
"Indeed? Well, it's 7:06 now, but I imagine she'll see you
anyway. Follow me."
She was shown into the presence of Honoria Cronin, the rather
starchy headmistress, to whom she presented her credentials.
Returning the papers, Miss Cronin smiled thinly. "So, Miss
Arliss...."
"Um...it's 'Ms. Arliss,' if you don't mind." Alice was feeling
increasingly intimidated by this place and these people, but was
determined not to show it.
"Really? How...progressive." Miss Cronin's nose wrinkled at
that last word.
Alice briefly recapitulated her mission and outlined her
proposed approach. Somewhat surprisingly, Miss Cronin airily
agreed to everything. She gestured toward a couple of files on
a side table. "A complete roster of our students and a photocopy
of the disciplinary consent form for each girl. You can examine
them now, if you like. I have anticipated that you'd want to
witness a typical punishment and interview the girl. We here at
Briarcliff certainly have nothing to hide. I've set up a nine
o'clock meeting with Miss Gillian Stoner, our Provost, who is in
charge of discipline. And I'm also lending you one of our students
as an escort. I'm afraid there is no time for pleasantries." She
looked at her watch peevishly. "Your escort, at least, will not be
tardy. So I will leave you to get on with your work."
It was work that Alice had an aptitude for. The number of
students and the number of consent forms matched, and there were
no duplicates among the latter. Spot checks failed to turn up any
discrepancies. She was just finishing when Miss Cronin returned.
"Your escort is here," she announced.
Alice looked up from her notes. Miss Cronin was accompanied by
a brunette, olive-skinned girl, attractive in a sulky sort of way.
"Ms. Arliss, this is Melanie Girardo. Melanie, Ms. Arliss. She's
conducting an investigation of alleged abuse for the state board of
education."
The headmistress wasted no time.
"Melanie is a senior and certainly knows her way around. She
will give you a tour and can answer questions. She's also due for
punishment this morning, and you can witness it. So...if there's
nothing more...."
After they left the head's office, Melanie brightened up
immediately. She was as tall as Alice (5'6"), but a bit heavier
and rather more athletic. She looked smart in her uniform -- blue
blazer with the school crest, white blouse, blue tie with a gold
stripe, astonishingly short blue skirt, white socks, and black
loafers. As they walked, Melanie talked about the school, past
and present...and not just a dry recital of facts and figures.
She spoke with intelligence, animation, and humor.
"Why are you being punished today?" Alice asked.
"I was...um...'misbehaving in the shower.' You understand...."
"Oh, yes. I went to a school very much like this. Were you
alone?"
"Yep. I'd probably have been better off if I'd had company,
though. They seem to go easier on lesbians than on masturbators."
She made a wry face. "Just my luck I'm both."
"Hmmmm." Alice was at a loss for words.
"They ARE really strict here, but I'd have to say that the
punishments are pretty fair and 'proper.' I certainly get my
share...." She made a wry face. "And I don't feel 'abused.'"
They passed one classroom after another, all very much alike,
except that some were occupied, and some were not. In the former,
all the girls seemed alert and actively involved in the lesson.
"A little monotonous, I'm afraid," Melanie said. Then she
stopped short. "Oh! I know what you'd like to see, Ms. Arliss."
She looked at her watch. "Just in time, too. C'mon."
She scurried off, with Alice in her wake. Alice had no idea
where they were headed, but followed along without question,
Melanie's bare, flashing legs a reminder of other times....
Melanie led the way downstairs, through a locker room, and into
a large shower area. "We can wait in there," Melanie whispered,
conspiratorially. "It's a trainer's room, but there won't be
anyone there now."
They stood in the dim little room, looking through a window
back into the brightly lit shower area.
"Won't be long, now, Ms. Arliss."
"What? And you can call me Alice."
"Alice? Is that what they called you at school?"
"N-no...."
"What, then?"
"Um...P-piggy...."
(Damn! she thought. Why did I tell her that? Well, she'll
never guess how I got that name....)
"Cool! Did you like the name?"
"Not much."
At this point, there arose a tumult in the the locker room,
which, a few minutes later, suddenly got closer, as a mob of
squealing, naked senior girls invaded the shower.
(Now THAT really takes me back, Alice mused. A couple of dozen
naked schoolgirls, pink and wet and uninhibited, cavorting in the
gang shower. Most quite innocent, but some fingering themselves,
and a few even fingering others. I wonder what it'd be like to be
in the shower with M.... God! Where did THAT notion come from?
For that matter, why did Melanie bring me here? What ideas are
going through HER head?)
"That's MY P.E. class with an unsupervised shower today...and
I'm missing it," Melanie complained.
They watched for a few more minutes, then Melanie checked the
time.
"We'd better get a move on; it's getting late. C'mon, Piggy!"
She grasped Alice by the hand and hurried out the room's rear
door and back upstairs.
They got to Miss Stoner's office in time -- just. The provost
was a short, slender blonde, about 30, with a good tan. She looked
much like the stereotypical "California Girl." But, when she spoke,
her accent was strictly British, and very posh, at that.
Introductions and explanations turned out to be unnecessary;
Miss Stoner had been thoroughly briefed. Without "dawdling," as
she put it, she led Alice and Melanie next door to a designated
"punishment room." This was a small, harshly lighted, and sparsely
furnished chamber. On the back wall there was a rack with canes
and straps and a couple of paddles. A sturdy-looking oak bench
about waist high, with a slightly swaybacked, padded top stood
nearby. Several shallow trays lay in a row against the wall on
the left.
Miss Stoner smiled thinly and said to Melanie, "Please prepare
yourself."
The girl proceeded to strip naked, much to Alice's fascination.
She revealed a solid body, perhaps 35B-28-36, well-muscled but
devoid of pubic hair. Dimly aware that Gillian Stoner was speaking
to her, Alice tore her attention away from Melanie.
"As I was saying, we rarely have outside observers here. There
should be some spare chairs in the room across the hallway; perhaps
you would fetch one for yourself...."
Alice was glad to get out of there for a few minutes, to take
several deep breaths and re-group. This whole trip down memory
lane was taking some weird detours. Her panties were beginning to
feel...damp.
When she got returned with a folding chair, Melanie had already
hung up her clothes, draped herself over the bench, and been
strapped down. Her legs were widely straddled, and her most
intimate areas were on display.
"Her assigned punishment is nine strokes of the cane, for lewd
behavior," Miss Stoner noted. "I shall start with a warm-up, so
that she can bear the caning better. I should also tell you that
she will be examined by the school nurse after the punishment.
Standard procedure."
Alice sat down to watch.
Miss Stoner chose a cane, took up her position, and began by
administering a series of rapid, very light strokes from the top
of Melanie's buttocks to about mid-thigh, using only the last 12
inches or so of the cane.
This warm-up apparently stung, but it also seemed to be not
entirely unpleasant, since Melanie was wiggling her butt rather
lasciviously. Shortly, her twitching bottom was a pretty pink
all over.
The blonde provost paused, like a paragraph break, and then
began again.
The cane swished through the air and cut viciously across
Melanie's ass. The girl gasped and stiffened. The second and
third strokes caused her to whimper. By the fifth, she was crying
softly and, by the eighth, blubbering.
One more, the fiercest of all, and it was over.
When the sobbing girl had been released from the bench, Miss
Stoner said, primly, "I hope you have learned your lesson, Melanie.
But you won't graduate until the end of the summer term, so I fear
I'll see you again. Now take your place and meditate."
Melanie knelt down on one of the trays, crossed her wrists at
the small of her back, and leaned forward until her nose touched
the wall.
Satisfied, Miss Stoner turned to Alice. "Conclusion, Ms.
Arliss?"
"Oh! Um...it seems severe...even harsh. I-I don't know...."
"I daresay it's less harsh than it might appear. But there's
only one way to be absolutely sure, isn't there?"
"I...I...."
"Well?"
"I s-suppose ssso. But...."
"Then we should get started, hmmm? Mustn't dawdle, you know.
Please prepare yourself while I fetch a release for you to sign."
She swept from the room, leaving Alice with her mouth hanging open.
She, who had always excelled at debate and oral argument, was
speechless. So she just began -- slowly -- to undress. Melanie
watched surreptitiously.
Alice was down to her panties when Gillian Stoner returned,
flourishing a consent form. Alice signed it with trembling
fingers.
"Very well, Alice," Miss Stoner said, as she pocketed the form.
"Now, quickly, off with those panties. Hmmmm. Have you had
an...'accident'?"
Alice blushed hotly. "I-I'm...sssorry, Miss."
"I daresay. Well, go on and position yourself across the
bench. And you, Melanie, bring your tray over here so you can
watch." She glanced at Alice. "It is the custom."
Leather straps, around each wrist and around each thigh just
above the knee, secured her limbs to the four legs of the bench,
and one across the small of her back kept her properly in position.
After selecting a cane, Miss Stoner parked it between Alice's
buttocks (Melanie stifling a giggle) and circled to the other side
of the bench.
"You were caned when you were in school?"
Alice nodded.
"Lift your head and look at me when I speak to you, girl. And
answer properly. You were caned?"
"Y-yes, Miss."
"Right. Then you'll get a dozen now."
"Oh!"
The time machine again. Alice found the "warm-up" was indeed
as stinging -- and as stimulating -- as those of her youth had
been. She was beginning to think Miss Stoner would take it easy
on her, under the circumstances...until the first real stroke came
whickering through the air to land like a thunderbolt and disabuse
her of that notion.
Though she tried to remain stoic, Alice was sobbing by the
third stroke, squealing by the sixth, and practically hysterical
by the ninth.
After the ninth stroke, Miss Stoner paused and skimmed the tip
of the cane lightly over Alice's bottom and between her legs. She
flourished the cane in front of the whimpering woman's face and
showed her that it was glistening with her juice.
"Naughty, naughty. I should have thought that you'd display
more self-control, Alice. But you're as indisciplined as a
schoolgirl."
Alice babbled some nonsense in reply.
Miss Stoner was relentless. She delivered each of the last
three strokes a bit more slowly, but very precisely, with a
finishing snap.
When she was released from the bench, Alice staggered over to
one of the trays (all which turned out to contain a layer of dried
peas), knelt gratefully in it, and put her nose to the wall,
physically and emotionally drained.
Melanie left after a few minutes, but Alice spent over half an
hour on increasingly protesting knees before she was deemed to have
regained her composure.
Miss Stoner then escorted her, still naked, down the busy
hallway, through a connecting corridor, past a number of
classrooms, and, eventually, to the nurse's office.
But the nurse was "Out," and Alice had to wait there in the
hall, standing naked at attention for a humiliating quarter hour.
The passing schoolgirls eyed her -- some with sympathy, some with
curiosity, and some with....
When the nurse finally re-opened for business, Alice was told
to lie prone on the padded examination table, and the nurse treated
her stripped butt with an analgesic, which quickly dulled the pain.
The nurse also took Alice's temperature (rectally, of course) and
checked her respiration and blood pressure. Everything was normal
enough.
Pronounced fit, Alice was given a sample size of the topical
analgesic and half a dozen pain pills and then was led back to the
provost's office. Melanie was waiting for her there. She slipped
Alice a clean pair of regulation white cotton panties, murmuring,
"We wear the same size. I'll wash the other pair; they're pretty
funky."
Alice dressed, rather shakily, closely watched by Melanie and
Miss Stoner, both of whom attempted to maintain poker faces, though
Miss Stoner was by far the more successful.
After thanking Miss Stoner sincerely for the "demonstration,"
Alice was escorted back to Miss Cronin's office. There the thanks
were more pro forma, but, still, it was almost noon before she was
able to regain her car and begin the return journey back to town.
Fifteen minutes down the road, she pulled over onto the berm,
parked, and did what she had been longing to do for hours -- she
masturbated fiercely, with both hands, until she'd orgasmed so many
times she was dizzy.
******************************
Later, she filed her report and cleared the school. Then she
took a deep breath and sent the following e-mail:
TO: Honoria Cronin, Headmistress, Briarcliff Academy
FROM: Alice Arliss, Esq.
SUBJECT: My Inquiry
Dear Miss Cronin:
I have turned in my report, which completely exonerates
Briarcliff of those absurd abuse charges. I do have
some concern, however, that discipline might in fact be
somewhat too lax. Please allow me to investigate further
by granting me permission to enroll as a student for the
summer term beginning next week.
Sincerely,
Alice Arliss
In due course, she received this response:
TO: Alice Arliss
FROM: Briarcliff Academy
SUBJECT: Enrollment
Dear Alice:
We are pleased to accept you as a special needs student
for the coming summer term. Tuition is waived. I have
personally taken steps to ensure that you will not find
our discipline "lax."
Please send us your measurements, so that we may have a
suitable uniform waiting for you.
Sincerely,
Honoria Cronin, Headmistress
Alice's reply was to the point:
TO: Honoria Cronin, Headmistress, Briarcliff Academy
FROM: Alice Arliss
SUBJECT: Re: Enrollment
Dear Miss Cronin:
Thank you for admitting me. I shall try to be a credit
to Briarcliff, though I am afraid I am bound to misstep,
from time to time.
My measurements, which you requested, are
5'6" 124 lbs.
34B-26-36
Size 6 shoe
Sincerely,
Alice Arliss
******************************
The following week, Alice arrived at Briarcliff by taxi,
dressed in t-shirt, shorts, and sandals. She carried only one
small bag. She was greeted by the same young woman as before --
looking even more disdainful -- who gave her directions to her
dorm room.
"Your room-mate is already there; she has all the information
on your orientation, medical examination, class schedule, work
assignment, and so on. Remember, she is a senior girl, and you
will be expected to obey her."
A few minutes later, Alice paused outside Room 207. She
sighed, somewhat ambiguously, knocked, and entered.
"Hello, Piggy," a familiar voice said.
Alice smiled, shyly. "Hello, Melanie."