Strictland Academy (11 page)

“
What
do you want, Compton?
 
Haven't you
gotten into enough trouble already today?"

April
was unable to resist the urge to cross and uncross her legs, and begged for
permission to relieve herself.
 
"I'm so sorry, Attendant Hazel, but I need to go.
 
I truly can't hold it anymore.
 
After all that water I had to drink
earlier ..."

“
Oh,
you need to go, do you?
 
Do you
think you should go ahead of all of the other girls who follow the rules?"

“
No,
ma
’
am, Attendant, but ...
”

“
But
what?
 
Do you think we should coddle
you because you're new?
 
Because
you're pretty?
 
Because your mother
allowed you to do whatever you wanted to do all your life?
 
Well, you'll not find that kind of
indulgent treatment here, Missy.
 
You'll go when everyone else goes, and not before.
 
Don't look so stricken, child.
 
I'm not going to punish you for your
prideful request, but I
am
going to make sure you're at the end of the
line this evening, just so you'll learn that you're no better than any other
girl here.
 
Go back to your bed and
wait like the rest of them.
 
I'll
come escort you to the end of the line when the bell rings for lavatory
time."

Tears
cascaded down April's cheek and her eyes widened with dread as she lost bladder
control.
 
She shrieked with
mortification as a large puddle formed on the floor.

“
Really,
Compton?
 
Unbelievable.
 
Attendant Angela, we need your assistance.
 
We have a baby who apparently isn't
potty trained!
”
Attendant Hazel called out with disgust.
 
"She's eighteen years old and completely unable to hold her own
water.
 
Well, this is not the first
time we have had to deal with such childishness, and I am certain it will not
be the last.
 
Take her."

The
attendants each grabbed a limb and carted April to her bunk, where she was
bound hand and foot to its four corners.
 
Her dress was stripped off and a thick stack of diaper material tucked
under her bottom, brought up through her legs, then pinned together at either
side.
 
Tight-fitting rubber panties
were pulled up over the diaper material and locked around her waist with a
heavy padlock, to which the Attendant gave her prefect the key.

“
You'll
wear these, girl, until you can prove to us that you can abide by the same
rules that the other girls follow.
 
You'll be changed by your prefect or myself when the others use the
facilities, and no sooner."

April
bawled continually throughout this indignity.
 
She was set free when they were
finished, dragged by Attendant Angela to the spot of her humiliation and handed
a big brush and a bucket filled with cold water and lye soap.

“
Clean
that up.
 
And it better be
spic-and-span when I come to inspect it, or you will be going across my lap for
a whipping that you will not forget for the next week.
 
Get to work and cease with the
tears."

She
glanced up to the observation rooms.
 
Molly's eyes followed the direction, seeing three men pointing and
clapping one on the shoulder.
 
A
lump formed in her stomach.
 
This
did not look good for her friend, on so many levels.

Disheartened,
and thoroughly embarrassed, April set about her chore as the lavatory bell rang
and the girls lined up in order of rank around her.
 
While everyone else was relieving
themselves, April pursued the impossible task of trying to please Attendant
Angela and, unknowingly, put on a good show for the mysterious viewers.
 
She ended up diaper-less, on her hands
and knees scrubbing away while the Attendant scourged her backside with a
short, light birch bundle.
 
With her
tiny bottom speckled with angry, red wheals, April was returned to her cot and
securely re-swaddled.
 
This time she
offered no fuss, for she had fallen asleep the second her body touched the
mattress.

***

Although
exhausted, Molly was unable to sleep due to the throbbing pain to her lower
regions and the constant chattering.
 
The girls did not appear to be concerned with being caught talking in a
low whisper.
 
The attendants had all
left, locking the door behind them, and the rule-breaking prefects were in
charge.
 
Questions were flung in
Molly's direction like a barrage of bullets, focusing on food, word events,
and, of course, men.
 
Molly, fearful
of the consequences upon her bedraggled behind, tentatively asked,
“
Wait!
 
Aren't you afraid of being heard?
 
What about the Attendants?"

“
They
won't be back until they do last rounds at eleven or so, then we won't see them
again until morning.
 
They open the
door, shine a light in here to make sure everyone's in bed, and then they go to
bed themselves,
”
one of the girls stated.

“
Go
to each other's beds, you mean,
”
someone suggested, as several of the girls snickered behind their hands.
 
"And they also share in a couple of
bottles of wine while doing it.
 
You
can smell it on them in the morning.
 
They are not as holy and righteous as they try to make everyone believe,
and you can tell by most of their sizes that food rationing is not on their
selective agenda.
 
The only one here
who seems to be worth anything is Doc Wells.
”

He's
a looker, too," another girl piped in.
 
"I wouldn't mind being examined by
that man."

"Yeah,
he got here about two weeks ago.
 
Supposedly, the State is requiring that this hellhole keep a resident
psychiatrist to monitor our progress; otherwise they are going to close us down
and send us to the state prison.
 
You already know the reputation that place has," a third voice
added.

"I
heard he's related to the headmaster.
 
Is that true?" Molly asked, her thoughts drifting to Patricia.

"Yeah,
some sort of distant cousin.
 
I
guess that is how he got in here.
 
We also know that the same judge that insisted this to be the best place
for us is in cahoots with the headmaster.
 
They are brothers."

"We
were hoping that Doc Wells would help us.
 
Maybe like he is helping your friend."

Silence
filled the room, the gloom filling the darkness.

"This
place is pure evil.
 
There is no
hope for any of us.
 
We might as
well accept that," a low, sad voice echoed, followed by murmurs of
agreement.
 
"We were all lied
to and made to believe this
‘
special
training
’
would make us more eligible to be selected by better men.
 
The ones who have left here have never
been heard from again, so we can only believe them to have been ... threatened
... or eliminated."

"Who
exactly are those people in the rooms above us?
 
There always seem to be several watching
everything." Molly asked.

The
other girls were silent for a while.
 
"We believe they are Refused who have been recruited by the
headmaster to purchase a permit to marry us.
 
At least, some of us," one of the
older girls said, somberly.
 
"We have seen the really young, more attractive girls get
'transferred'
 
to what they call a
specialized unit during certain times of the year, and then we hear nothing
about where they go off to.
 
We all
think they are put in a block to be sold to the highest bidder. We don
’
t think that the State
even knows this is being done."

“
How
do they justify the absences?
”
Molly
’
s voice shook with
fear. "You said the State investigates this place.
 
How can they hide what is happening
here?" Molly asked, tentatively.
 

“
They
probably either present forged documents that announce the girl
’
s demise or a fake
marriage permit.
 
Whatever they do,
it has been enough to keep the State off their backs.
”

Her
words confirmed Molly's deepest fears.
 
She had been correct; Strictland Academy was simply a ruse to hide where
the Headmaster and the judge made their real money!

"And
why hasn't Dr. Wells reported this?
 
Does he know?"

"He
is new, and the attendants loathe him, so they are going to keep him in the
dark as long as possible.
 
None of
us has been left alone with him to tell him anything, either."

"Plus
there are no phones and no way out of here.
 
This compound is literally in the middle
of nowhere, and there are no real roads or houses for miles," another
voice added.

"As
for the State investigations, the headmaster set up a convenient little clause
that allows them two weeks notice prior to a visit.
 
That is just enough time to allow any
major bruises to heal and to put some meat on us.
 
But don't get your hopes up," a
voice answered near her head, "these wardens know how to punish and not
leave any visible evidence.
 
They
are not going to risk being accused of unnecessary violence and get sent to the
State pen.
 
Hell, if any of the
inmates there found out who and what these bitches are
…
it would be their
death sentence."

"Believe
it or not, you came at a good time," another girl piped in.
 
"There should be an inspection
scheduled any day now."

"I
just can't understand what they hope to achieve by this constant punishment
thing," Molly said, feeling anger rise.
 
"Why hasn't anyone fought
back?
 
The odds are like twenty to
one."

Once
again, the room was silent.
 
LeClair
answered, "People disappear from this place.
 
Ones that we know have not been claimed
by an observer.
 
It is about
survival, and the more you can convince them that you will play the game their
way, the better chance you have to live."

"But
what happens to the ones who aren't taken away?
 
How long do you stay here?"

"I've
been here five years," LeClair said.
 
"I was originally sent in for assault and battery.
 
The reason I got to come here is because
I am big and strong, and their goal is to make me into an attendant.
”

“
Do
you actually like it here?
 
Do you
like doing this shit to us? Molly demanded.

“
I
do what I must to survive.
”
LeClair shrugged.
“
I
get extra food and clothing, which is more than I would have had at the prison.
 
My future is already decided."

"The
women who work in the cafeteria or go out to exchange laundry are all prior
inmates here, too.
 
They have no
chance on ever getting a job after being sentenced to this place, and are too
old to be of interest to an observer.
 
They stay quiet because Strictland provides a means for them to
survive."

"Keep
them enslaved, you mean."

"Call
it what you want.
 
It assures those
women remain loyal.
 
The
administrators depend on fear to keep this place running smoothly and to hide
their tracks.
 
If you haven't
learned already, you don't have to do anything particularly wrong to earn all
the thrashings you receive.
 
The
sole purpose is to keep you terrified and compliant.
 
No one has ever had the balls to try to
stop them, and no one ever will."

"Do
you ever adjust to it?
 
Does it ever
stop hurting so badly?" Molly asked, shifting her body.

"No.
 
You just learn to grit your teeth and
take it the way they want you to.
 
Make enough noise to let them know you feel it, but not so much that
they suspect you are resisting their so-called lesson.
 
I'm sure your ass learned that the hard
way so far."