Strictland Academy
Read Strictland Academy Online
Authors: Carolyn Faulkner,Breanna Hayse
Strictland Academy
By
Carolyn Faulkner with
Breanna Hayse
©2014 by Blushing
Books®, Carolyn Faulkner and Breanna Hayse
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may
be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Blushing
Books®,
a subsidiary of
ABCD Graphics and
Design
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
The trademark Blushing Books®
is registered in the US
Patent and Trademark Office.
Faulkner, Carolyn
Hayse, Breanna
Strictland Academy
eBook
ISBN:
978-1-62750-422-5
This
book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented
in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book
should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any
non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Table of Contents:
from Breanna Hayse:
Every day, authors of erotica receive
emails asking for something different:
forbidden fruit, taboo, stories made up from hellish nightmares.
Readers begging for characters like Vlad
the Impaler, Pinhead, and Hannibal Lechter are flooding us with the challenge
to step outside the box filled with teddy bears and bubble gum and dive into
something beyond the imagination.
We
are reminded that darkness lurks inside the minds of all of us, and that many
people, even the most gentle of souls, are fascinated with things of horror,
are drawn to the forbidden, and delight in fear.
When Carolyn approached me with the
challenge to meet her in this place, I balked.
Did I have the courage to sail down this
river with her?
If I did not, how
would I ever see what lay hidden in the recesses of my own imagination?
So I met her challenge ...
This
book is not for the faint of heart, or for anyone looking for a warm fuzzy to
cuddle up to next to a crackling fire.
True to the title,
The Darkness Series
, this is the first
installment that will allow thousands of reader fantasies to be put to pen and
paper.
It is not a tale of romance,
rather that of survival.
Does good
always overcome evil?
Only time
will tell.
Strictland
Academy
Bleakness
swept over the colonies post World War IV.
Men were scarce after the able-bodied were killed during the useless
battles that scourged the earth, leaving so many women alone and without
fathers, brothers, and husbands.
Men were a desired commodity now, and only the well-to-do women were
‘
blessed
’
with the privilege of being
allowed to select one as a permanent mate with the purpose of rebuilding the
population. The term
‘
blessed
’
was a misnomer for the majority of remaining men were
either past their prime, injured, or of questionable character. Despite the
limited number of eligible men remaining on Earth, many were still dismissed by
those women who had the money, and power, to be discriminating. These men were
known as the Rejected.
The
Rejected had little recourse but to seek a wife through a State-run penal
system.
Desperation had driven many
a woman to steal, kill and maim to survive, and those caught were sentenced to
life behind bars with limited food, water and heat.
There also existed private institutions
for the less corrupt- and more eligible- girls who were determined to be
adequate breeding stock by the government officials.
These academies, financed by families
and sponsors, and supervised by the State penal system, promised to
‘
mold
’
the unfortunate girl
to be a perfect, submissive wife and mother.
These couplings not only required State
approval, but pregnancy required a permit.
The
only hope of escape from a lifetime of incarceration was to be selected by one
of the Rejected, and submit to being the warm body he required to rebuild the
shattered civilization.
The
monetary cost of this acquisition was high for him
…
but not as high as the
cost paid by the young woman unfortunate enough to be noticed, and trapped, in
a system without hope.
This is
their story
…
.
1
The
windowless room was bare of furnishings, beyond the three ancient, chairless
kitchen tables leaning against a wall lined with drab, milky-green tiles.
The reclaimed d
é
cor, if that was what
it could be called, was comprised of faded green and gold linoleum on the
floor, and multiple, alarmingly bright bulbs suspended from the ceiling by a
single wire. The limited availability of natural gas for heating was evident by
the bone-chilling bite that penetrated the bodies of the three naked, young
women.
Bound hand and foot by
unforgiving ropes, they pressed themselves fearfully against the frigid cold
wall in a useless effort to find some warmth.
Hours
had passed since the girls had been uprooted from their homes and taken away by
a two-man
‘
correction
’
team garbed in
black.
They each were placed in an
unmarked, windowless van, and no answers responded to the myriad of questions
as they began the long drive into the night.
The rocking of the vehicle, coupled with
the engine's drone, had each nodding off on their seats, unaware of what
awaited them and their future.
They
only knew that they had escaped being sent to a State facility, a place where
the general population of violent criminals was known to
‘
cull
’
itself for competition
for food and clothing.
They
were jolted awake as the vehicles were parked; then each was held immobile by
one man as the other forcefully stripped the girl bare of all clothing except
for her socks.
Threatened with gags
if they refused to remain silent, she was blindfolded and trussed up like a
Christmas goose before being escorted to the glacially cold room.
One by one, each girl was carefully
deposited on the hard floor and the blindfolds removed.
Final warning orders were issued:
remain as you are, and do not speak.
Terror
and embarrassment blanched the faces of all three as they struggled to avoid
eye contact with one another.
Their
nudity, coupled with an unpredictable future, forced them to hunker down and
cower away.
The redhead, Molly,
attempted to hide her generous endowments with moderate success, her breasts
burgeoning out from under her arms as she fought to conceal her ample
softness.
Thoughts of modesty were
not her concern at this point
—
just trying to keep warm.
After an hour of terrified silence, Molly finally gave way to her need
to hear a human voice, even if was only her own.
“
I'm
Molly.
Molly Petry," she
whispered, disregarding the warning to maintain absolute silence.
She continued, comforted by the sound of
her own voice in the icy stillness of the bright room. "This is so
surreal.
I can't really grasp what
is happening.
I was ... uh, in a
bit of trouble, and this judge, Jeremiah, told me and my mother that the only
option was attending a reformatory academy or being sent to the state
penitentiary.
He showed us articles
about all the terrible things that happened there to girls my age, and it
terrified Mother into promising to pay anything to keep me out of there.
”
She
shifted, wincing as her hipbone clipped against the stony hardness of the wall.
“
He said it really
wasn't up to Mother, except that she needed to completely support my
decision.
He then emphasized that
this academy was very strict, so that next time I felt tempted to do anything
wrong, I would think twice.
He
promised I would receive an education that would prepare me for the rest of my
life.
Seriously?
I can't afford to select a decent man,
no one wants one of those
Rejected
ones,
”
she shuddered.
“
I would be stuck going
through trash cans if I didn't do something.
So it's a reform school.
I figured, how bad could it be?"
With
no one else responding, Molly growled, "That nasty-ass judge told my
mother that she had failed in her responsibility towards me.
He made her cry!
It wasn
'
t her fault that my
father was killed during the war! He then told her that he was tempted to bring
her up on charges for parental neglect as well.
Nothing I did was my mother
’
s fault, for God's
sake!
I was the stupid one.
I didn't even get a chance to say
goodbye to her when these people showed up at my door.
They pushed my mom out of the way,
grabbed my arm and shoved me into a van like I was a piece of meat."
Still
getting no reaction, Molly muttered to herself, "Damn, these ropes are
tight and my fingers are too cold to loosen them."
She took a deep breath, while she
struggled against the intricate knots at her ankles, disturbed that the only
sound other than her own voice was the soft sobbing that came from the little
blonde closest to her.
In an effort
to provide some comfort, Molly scooted closer and timidly touched the girl's
shoulder with her elbow.
Molly
sighed as the little thing tried to stifle her cries.
"This really sucks, huh?
What's your name?" Molly asked.
"April,"
came the muffled answer, as the blonde shifted her weight on the firm roundness
of her backside.
“
Did
the same type of thing happen to you two?" Molly asked.
Slowly both April and the black-haired
girl adjacent to her nodded their heads.
Molly
looked around, her voice growing stronger,
“
Well, I don't know
about you, but I would not call this place a school.
It seems to be more like an institution
or one of those challenge facilities, and I bet you that this so-called judge
is pocketing away the money he is getting from our parents.
It doesn't matter to me; I am out of
here.
This treatment is obscene and
demented.
I have changed my mind
and don't care what my mother paid these people.
She would be sick to her stomach if she
knew what has happened so far.
How
can a place like this stay in business!
This has got to be illegal, and I intend to report this."