Did Someone Say “Fiction”?

Yes, I suppose I did. After the jump, another story by me. I’m not completely satisfied with this one but I wanted to write a punishment scene with a harsh feel to it.

The Institution

They came into her room so suddenly that the sound startled Angela awake. In her confusion, she began to scream. A hand covered her mouth and she found herself grabbed from her bed and propelled out into the dark hallway. She struggled to see who had gotten a hold of her but could only view dim outlines out of the corner of her eye. She kicked out with her feet hoping to alert the others on her floor by connecting with one of the closed doors they passed. However, her captors moved her expertly down the center of the passageway towards the stairs at the end of the floor. Dressed only in her white nightgown, Angela was forced through the doorway and down the three flights of stairs to the basement.

The door at the bottom of the stairs was always locked and she heard someone ahead undo the latch with the loud click and the snap of a large key turning in an ancient lock. No one spoke as they wrestled her into the dark cold entry which led to rooms that Angela had only heard about but never seen. The fact that she was being brought there filled her with dismay but it was not until she approached a haven of light emanating from a room at the end of the hall that she began to cry.

Seated behind a plain wooden table was Head Mistress Naomi Wynne and a large man who she had only seen twice before and only while walking on campus. A chair was placed opposite the table and Angela was forced down upon it. The door to the room was closed and the hand removed from her mouth. The person behind her moved to the side of the chair and she finally recognized him as one of the men who guarded the front gate of grounds.

“What am I doing here”, she began to say before several stinging slaps to her face stunned her into silence. She looked up at the guard with thinly masked animosity but shied away from saying anything for fear he would strike her again.

“You will be quiet until asked to speak”, said Head Mistress Wynne.

Angela nodded as she rubbed her cheek. She looked from face to face but saw no emotion, no sympathy and no hint of why she had been brought there.

“Who were you contacting on the outside”, asked Wynne.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, said Angela.

The head mistress gave a brief nod. The guard stepped in front of Angela and slapped her again, this time much harder than before. The force of the blow nearly knocked her off her chair and it took a few moments for her to blink away the flashes of light in her sight.

“You can dispense with the lies”, said Wynne. “You were seen by several of the girls in your section leaving your room without permission and making your way up the stairs to the roof of the dormitory. What you did not realize was that on more than one of those occasions, one of the girls followed you and observed you engaged in conversation using a contraband communication device”.

Angela’s eyes darted to the door but she could see through the small window that it was being guarded from the outside. Even if she could surprise them all by running, she knew it would be impossible to get far before she was apprehended again. Her options were at a minimum.

“You’re being lied to”, said Angela striking a defiant tone. “The girls in my section hate me…”

A series of slaps stunned her again and this time she did tumble to the concrete floor, her ears ringing and her face stinging with a sharp pain. Angela felt herself lifted from the floor and flung back onto the hard wooden chair. She held up her hand in an attempt to ward away any further slaps when a knock at the door pulled the guard away. He unlocked the metal door and was passed a package from outside before locking them all back in. The guard handed Head Mistress Wynne what he had been given before taking his position behind Angela’s chair.

“It seems that the reports of your activities have been corroborated”, she said.

Wynne upended the package and allowed its contents to spill on the table. Among her personal effects was a small, black cell phone. Angela slumped in her chair realizing she could no longer deny the accusations.

“Nothing to say”, asked Wynne. “Now all that’s left is to find out who you were contacting and why. Who it was should be easy to find once we examine the phone itself but it will be much easier if you tell us what you were up to”?

Angela shook her head, the meaning of which was clear to Head Mistress Wynne and the others in the room.

“I have no time for further foolishness out of you so we will move forward”.

She leaned over and whispered something into the ear of the large man who stood up as silently as he had been sitting. He walked over to Angela with a still menace that made it all the more dreadful. She was frightened not just by his size but by the lack of any emotion in his face. The guard grabbed her arms from behind and lifted her to a standing position. The large man began tearing the nightgown from her body with his hands, letting the shredded bits of cloth fall to the floor. Angela screamed and kicked out with her feet but even though they landed on his legs and thighs, he showed no sign of being affected by the impact. The large man bent down and picked up pieces of the torn nightgown. He forced a wad of it into her mouth and tied another piece around her head to gag her.

“Whatever you thought you were doing is at an end”, said Wynne. “We’ll find out who you were talking to and deal with that person as well”.

She cleared the items from the table and pointed to it. “Put her here”.

The guard moved her to the table and forced her face down on top of it, her head at the end nearest the door and her feet dangling from the other. He opened the single drawer and produced a wide leather strap which attached to two hooks underneath the table’s center. Angela struggled but could not move as the guard moved to one end and took hold of her hands. Her muffled voice was unintelligible, her eyes widening with fear.

“You are a ward of the state by mandate of the court and your presence here requires you to follow the rules. You have broken several including the restriction against unauthorized contact with the outside world”.

Head Mistress Wynne knelt down to look Angela in the face. “Your punishment will make sure that you do as you’re told from now on. Are we clear”?

Angela nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the large man step forward. Dangling from his hand was a thick leather strap that he quickly lifted over his head. She closed her eyes as the first blow fell across her buttocks. Her scream was muffled by the gag as were all the others. The large man with his terrible strength punished her incessantly and forcefully. The strap fell hundreds of times across her flesh until her once fair skin was a steady and deep shade of purple.

They brought her back to her room before dawn and dropped her face down on the bed. She moaned in pain.

“The nurse will be here to see to you later”, said Head Mistress Wynne. “We don’t like troublemakers here nor those who think the rules do not apply to them”.

She walked out and shut the door behind her. The sound of a lock being turned echoed in the spartan room. The cover over the small window in the door slid aside and Wynne peered in.

“We will provide whatever correction is needed until you learn the proper way to behave”.

The cover slid shut and Angela was in darkness again.

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7 Responses to “Did Someone Say “Fiction”?”

  1. cassandrapark Says:

    Wow, that was extremely hot!

  2. swfloridabrat Says:

    What she said! There is still time to enter SSS’s story competition!

    • radagast Says:

      It’s not that my last foray into SSS soured me on that experience, it’s just that trying to be a nice, rational person on the Usenet is too jarring for me. I’m much more comfortable in some of the other newsgroups I’m a part of because I’m able to use 9 of the 7 dirty words 😉

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