1 comments/ 19221 views/ 1 favorites The Petworthy Finishing School Ch. 02 By: Farinholt777 Chapter Two Where Mitten Becomes Oriented to her New Life at Petworthy Finishing School Because Mitten had a long time to consider her plight, she began to try to discern what was expected from her; by Daddy and by the Headmistress. The first problem was that she wasn't supposed to consider it a plight. It was appropriate for Mitten to feel like she was a girl of extreme privilege and that attending and graduating from Petworthy was a gift from God Himself. Now three months removed from the Headmistress' demonstration on her bottom, Mitten wondered what two years of what seemed to her to be punishment without reason would wear on her spirit. She recalled how she felt in the immediate aftermath of Miss Cashmere's discipline lesson. Her buttocks burned for hours and the soreness lingered beyond that deep in the fibers of her butt's muscles, light bruising on her skin the marked reminder of the small paddle's work. There was also, in recollection, a heightened sense of awareness that she could only attribute to the admonition given to her fanny. She was keenly sensitive to Daddy's needs. She was uncommonly well-prepared for each day. There was no one person telling her how to react. It seemed to spring naturally out of her adjusted behavior. She recalled all the spankings and switchings she had received as a child growing up. Then, too, her behavior seemed to be altered in an almost involuntary manner. As a child, she never took the time to consider that the painful punishments were causing a lingering legacy of obedience in her spirit. There were so many strange things to think of. She was going to be groomed as a submissive wife, something every good church was supposed to do. Mitten had heard the stories though. Approaching 1920, women were becoming more and more insolent and petulant, demanding things outside of their roles as wives and mothers yet it seemed that Miss Cashmere was one who opposed suffrage and women's rights. At the same time, however, it was also clear that she was a powerful woman in her own right. It also seemed that while she groomed girls for submission, the Headmistress also saw the girls being married into the families of the elite as a strategic and highly unsubmissive, well-considered plan. Mitten didn't necessarily think this plan to be nefarious in any way other than it probably was more clandestine than men would probably wish. The rumors of such women like President Wilson's wife actually leading the country during the President's illness during the latter part of the war swirled especially during the suffrage campaigns. Was Mrs. Wilson one of Petworthy's graduates, culled and conditioned from the elite, to take her place as the silent leader of the free world? It was hard to imagine the First Lady of the United States being spanked. Then there was the issue of being told who to marry. She didn't know why but the idea of Mitten having her marriage prearranged rankled in her spirit with surprising ferocity. Indeed, the Bible was replete with arranged marriages. Christ's earthly parents were an arranged marriage. Political alliances had been forged by marriages. When Mitten was married, was her husband going to be spanking her as her adult demonstration of submission? Was she to be his unspoken bond slave or the underlying backbone and power of the marriage? Even these surreal contemplations didn't cause Mitten to be dissuaded from the duty she was to carry out for Daddy and for Petworthy. What did give her pause was how that was going to transpire. Mitten was a fastidious person who liked having everything laid out before her. That way she was as well-prepared and compliant as possible. This was how she was so successful in school before. Now, she was completely in the dark as to what was expected of her. That is, she knew the destination but she didn't know the route to get there. How could she avoid punishments if she didn't know what was necessary to obey? All of these things went unanswered for Mitten as she rode the train east. Before this she had only come as far east as St. Louis, so this long journey was epic in stature in comparison. As she was carried farther from Omaha, the terrain became constipated more and more with towns and large tracts of woods, so alien from the open fields and prairie of her home. The train began to wind instead of forge down straight tracks. Each stop eastward, there were more and more people. Mitten was truly overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of people she saw awaiting the train. By the time she reached Pittsburgh, with its smoking stacks belching into the sky, she began to truly pine for the ranch life she was abandoning. Finally, on the fourth day they reached Albany, where she presumed the school was. However, when she arrived and went inside the huge station, there was a man in a suit with a younger woman who held a sign that said Petworthy Academy on it. As she walked towards them, she noticed that there were several other girls around her age gathering around them. She found that the train was a transition point in the journey. After about a quarter hour, the girls were herded into covered carriages that had the windows deliberately covered. All of the girls were instructed to go the lavatory because there would be only one stop on their carriage ride to Petworthy. The Petworthy Finishing School and Academy of Submissive Studies was nestled somewhere near the middle part of the Hudson Valley. A sprawling complex of austere buildings, the school was the home for nearly 300 girls, ranging in age from 18 to 20. The charter and mission of the school was to prepare girls for their role as desirable brides in higher society at the beginning of the twentieth century. Those men who take them on would be of the finest breeding and status in the world. Still, the methods and purposes of the school had always been the stuff of urban legend and society mythology. Secreted away from the general flow of life, in the foothills of the Taconic and Berkshire Mountains, most people didn't even know where the campus was. Students who were accepted to Petworthy were picked up by covered and sealed carriages in Albany and then shuttled the final two hours to the campus. No one knew much about the faculty or the campus. Still, anyone who was of means in the Northeast knew of Petworthy, its purpose and its methods. While it is only spoken in whispers, Petworthy alumni peppered the landscape of society...not just locally. It was commonly known but went unspoken that Petworthy graduates were the wives of numerous Senators and Congressmen. At least three Vice Presidential wives had attended Petworthy. Alums were strategically married to CEOs of the largest companies in New York, the country and, in many cases, the world. Additionally, there were many girls that went on, mostly internationally, as successful. The world was not yet modern and women needed to be of the most impeccable character, as well as be trained in the womanly art of submission. In a world where they weren't allowed to vote, a girl could improve her lot in life for herself as a woman and for her family by marrying well. Graduation from Petworthy was way to assure that security in a world where the haves and the have-nots had such a drastic disparity in status. The intrigue of its graduates being so prevalent among the wives of the highest society was overshadowed by its notorious methodology of achieving its means. Petworthy staff, teachers, and administration were not only allowed but expected and encouraged to maintain discipline, reinforce good behavior and manage the student body by use of a variety of corporal disciplines. Now, corporal discipline was not an unheard of thing at the advent of the modern 1920s, even in school. However, Petworthy's aims were far more than to correct bad behavior. So completely pervasive was corporal discipline, sometimes random, that a student could consider it a good day if she only received a single spanking in a day. This was the fearsome mystique that pervades the legend of Petworthy Finishing School for Girls; that the good mannerisms, sexual prowess and submissive natures produced in its students was built on a relentless foundation of painful spankings and punishments, both public and private. Hearing these testimonials and speculations from the other new girls on the seemingly endless covered carriage ride from Albany, only girded up what Mitten had spent time trying to surmise herself during the three day journey to the campus. She didn't feel out of place on the train ride to Albany. However, when she met the carriage at the Albany train station, she did note that the dress of the students there were more than subtly different than hers. Their dresses were more slender and European styled. Many of the girls were already wearing makeup. All of them had only the most basic bag of essentials. In the instructions that Mitten received she was told only to bring what she would need in transit. Her clothing for her time would be provided by the school, right down to her bloomers,...which, of course, would not be called that. Mitten had difficulty trying to continue to know where they were going. She could tell that they were moving south/southeast for the most part by the position of the sun through the cracks in the covered carriage. However, there were several turns and stops and soon as the late afternoon sun was behind a high tree bank, she was unable to get her bearings. During the journey from Albany, there was little conversation in Mitten's carriage, which suited her fine. However, she did make small talk with a seemingly younger girl, who, literally just turned 18 two days before,named Millicent. She was a comparative pixie in contrast to Mitten. She was very short for her age, but she was beginning to develop a womanly body, especially in her bosom. Her complexion was as creamy as Mitten's, but Millicent's persona was most manifest by her carrot orange hair. Millicent also had almost incongruously large blue eyes that one could easily get swept up if she were to try to impress something on someone, as if her gaze would somehow compel their compliance. During their journey, Mitten told Millicent that her name was Lavinia but she preferred to be called Livvy. Millicent liked saying her whole name, however, and was talkative enough for both of them. There were other girls but they were either too proud to talk with them or too shy. "Lavinia," Millicent said, cocking her head slightly and saying Mitten's name with dramatic slowness, "do you think we are going to be spanked today?" This caused the other girls to look up with their eyes alert. There was a thread of mischief in Millicent's eyes and Mitten caught it immediately. She was weighing the merits of cooperating with Millicent's play when the younger girl continued. "I was told...well...I was shown that spankings would happen all the time." Millicent had a small smile but then Mitten realized that the question while serving to prank the other girls had an underlying serious query to it. "I can't say that I know if we will be spanked today," Millicent answered carefully. "I do know that you are quite right in saying that spanking would be a part of our daily life. I was also given that demonstration." Then she turned to the other two girls in the carriage. "Were you spanked by someone from the school?" The girls curiously shook their heads in the negative. This unexpected response caused Mitten and Millicent to look at each other in disconcert, before Millicent's face lightened with a small smile. "Well, Lavinia, I guess you and I are special." From that point, Millicent was suddenly Mitten's new best friend and Mitten welcomed that fact. However, Mitten felt like there would have to be a certain caution in knowing Millicent as her huge blue eyes belied an underlying streak of rebelliousness. It was still light out when they arrived. As they got to the campus, they could hear the voices of singing...beautiful, trained female voices singing an unfamiliar song which Mitten couldn't make out the words to. Yet the melodious tones were inviting and hopeful, stark contrast from the darker feelings that she was working so hard to suppress about the life-change she was experiencing. Finally, as the carriages slowed, the words of the song...more like a hymn...became more distinguishable. Our hearts are led by Grace, We give our will to those who lead us And bring brightness to our face. Obedience is our calling We give our flesh to feel the rod And keep our spirits from falling. Discipline is our tool, To bring us to full fruition, A girl no longer the fool. Now as we walk in order down these hallowed halls As we dress to woo the men to whom we're called Let us bear the burden of submission in our heart Our grateful bottoms receiving its mark Proverbial women we shall be Surrendered to our Husbands and Masters Knowing the curse of being free Good Girls we shall be Good Girls for all to see A Good Girl I am in need For a Husband or Master to lead There was a refrain of soft humming and the hymn began again. When the carriage finally came to stop, much to all of its passenger's relief (Mitten deeply needed to use the lavatory again), they heard the door latch freed and the exit swing open. Though it was late in the day, the ruddy light of dusk still filtered through the late summer foliage of trees. As they emerged tenuously from the carriage, they found themselves in a brick circle in front of a formidable building. Across the upper façade, in old English text, read: Petworthy Finishing School for Girls and Academy of Submissive Studies. Mitten stepped down with her simple bag and relatively simple clothes, while many of the other girls came out with finer garb, obviously bought near their East Coast homes. Around the circle and along the stairwell up into the building were upperclass students, dressed in their uniforms, standing at attention, hands folded behind them singing to them as they arrived. She also saw that her transport was a part of a caravan of such carriages bringing new students to the campus. All of them unpiled girls of various types, all looking as Mitten imagined herself; nervous, unsure, and fearful. Mitten still had the memory of the Headmistress' admonition on her bottom some months before. She was trying to not to hyperventilate. When they emerged from the carriage, Millicent was nestled at Mitten's side, pensively taking in the display of the reception they were receiving. While they stood at attention and had their eyes relatively forward, Mitten could feel their instant scrutiny. Were they sizing them up? There were several administrative staff there as well, giving directions to the girls as they came off the carriages. As they moved towards the main building, she estimated that there were some 150 new students that had arrived. Millicent seemed fascinated by the uniforms which were so radically modern and different from other school uniforms. Each returning student was wearing a button down burgundy vest sweater with the school insignia on the left breast. That partially covered a white, long sleeve blouse with profoundly masculine looking collar. Each girl had had a plaid tie of grey with red and black stripes. The uniform skirt was an inch past the knee and the same grey as the tie. Everyone seemed to be wearing white socks that were folded down at the ankle and conservative Mary Jane shoes. Unlike the skirts that Mitten was accustomed to, billowing and wide. The uniform skirts were of a more simple fabric and clung more sleekly to the female form. The uniforms seemed a little incongruous for the smaller girls, and hung plainly on their straighter frames. As the refrains continued from the seemingly oblivious singers, Mitten and the other girls were led into the great main building which sat dominant in the center of the courtyard in comparison to the lesser buildings which were the classrooms and dormitories. Once inside the tone of the greeting turned markedly more terse. Administrators and teachers stood by sternly, each holding a riding crop, cane or leather strap; some sort implement for spanking the girls should they be resistant to instruction. They were firm but polite the entire time. They had the girls line up, with their heads up and the eyes forward. Millicent fell in front of Mitten. They moved at a slow steady rate down the stairwell to a great hall. The girls were drawn into four lines of about twenty or thirty girls each. They were lined up in front of four corroborative desks with nurses taking down vital information. Then each girl, after giving their information, were instructed to undress, right there, in front of all the other girls. When a girl was pulled out of one of the lines and bent over a chair for a brisk caning over her quickly stripped bottom Millicent turned to Mitten with a look of fear. Before she could say anything, Millicent was pulled out of line, and then, also, Mitten behind her by a middle-aged woman with dark hair in a severe bun and spectacles. She walked them all the way to the wall, where Mitten noticed other non-cooperatives had been sent. There they were told to face the wall with their hands behind their head. Then the woman returned to the line. Mitten was shaken to her core. She hadn't really done anything wrong yet, but was guilty by her association with Millicent. Up the way, Mitten saw that the other girls who had been pulled out of line as she had were awaiting a man,who was middle-aged and handsome in a serious, dark way. He was walking up behind each girl, speaking to them in a low, voice, though Mitten couldn't hear what he said to each one. He carried with him a leather strap, nearly a foot in length and two inches wide, with a customized handle. After his verbal exchange with each girl, which seemed to invariably end with the girl reluctantly conceding to whatever point he made, the girl was bent at the waist and her dress was lifted over her back and her bloomers or underwear were tugged down. Then the man leveled ten full armed swats with the strap each one accompanied by that particular girl's take on a screech of pain. When the man came to Millicent, he spoke in the same dulcet tone. "Do you know why you were pulled out of line, young lady?" Millicent chose not to turn but was already sniveling. "Y..yes sir." The man calmly pulled Millicent back from the wall two steps as he continued speaking to her. "Please elaborate," he intoned as he bent her at the waist. "I turned in line to talk to the girl behind me." As she said this, her dress was lifted and her undergarments pulled to her ankles. "Please try to remember this." Before she could affirm to him that she would, the handsome man brought the strap over Millicent's tiny little butt globes with a loud smack. Millicent cried out her eyes bulging in shock. Again and again, for nine more times, Millicent received her reminder without malice or mercy. She was crying now with heaves and suddenly Mitten was feeling herself tremble. She knew that she was going to be spanked, that she didn't deserve it and that there was nothing she could do or say that would change that for her. The man had Millicent dress and stand at the back of the line, before he turned his attention to Mitten. He bent her at the waist even as he began to speak calmly. "Do you understand why you're being spanked?" "With respect, sir, no." Mitten couldn't believe the brazenness of her own words. She felt a huge indignity and an edge of self-righteousness rise in her. It caused the man to pause from the routine nature of the spankings he was conducting. "Stand up and face me please." Mitten obeyed but now she was genuinely scared. His expression didn't hint of any more wrongdoing, however, his gaze was now more purposeful. The Petworthy Finishing School Ch. 02 "You are?" "Lavinia Wordsmith of Nebraska, sir." "I appreciate the honesty of your answer, Miss Wordsmith. It will not mitigate the fact that you are about to be punished, but it will clarify to you why. Do you think that you were going to answer that young lady when she turned to exclaim something to you?" In truth, Mitten did but she wasn't ready to concede that point. "I can't know that sir," she answered honestly. "If I did, I might have cautioned her to obey your instructions." "So, you are saying that if you had answered it would have been an altruistic measure on your part?" There was a deep well of sarcasm in his voice without being cruel. "Perhaps sir." The man chuckled softly and turned her back to the wall, once again having her bend at the waist. Flipping the skirt up over her back, he pulled Mitten's breeches down past her bottom while relaying his final edict on her plight. "Well then, Miss Wordsmith," he said placing his hand on the small of her bare back just above her butt crack, "you must then also, by that logic, concede that you just as easily might have disobeyed yourself. Either way, I am sure that you will be better for the punishment." Mitten closed her eyes with a painful sigh. In her periphery she saw his hand draw back with the strap and heard it swoop through the air. The sting lashed her flesh even before the sound reached her ears. She lurched, crying out in a mix of anguish and shock. The man calmly and evenly covered her bottom with the stripes of his well- worn strap, each stroke causing Mitten to wail to such a point that by the time the tenth stroke was administered she was crying uncontrollably. Even as she sobbed and heaved after the strapping, Mitten stood trembling, her face contorted with her bawling. Still, she stood in a false dignity that was torn down by her public humiliation. The man looked at her with a level of bemusement. She had seen the other girls receiving similar chastisement and quickly grasped the etiquette of the situation. "Thank you sir," she managed, careful not to express the indignant rage she was feeling. "Please return to the line with your friend." "Yes sir." Millicent watched Mitten return to take her place behind her. Inexplicably,the small girl seemed completely recovered from her own punishment and looked at her with a sense of hopefulness. Yet, Mitten was still crying without shame, though quieter than before. It was shocking how beyond the pain of the experience, the act of being spanked in front of the other girls had totally broken her down. As girls were lining up behind her, Mitten could see other girls being pulled out of line for a variety of reasons. Each received a quiet lecture before their own bottoms were exposed and tanned fiercely. From her position in line, Mitten realized that if she did not quiet her own crying, she could pass the man again and he would feel compelled to discipline her again for her noise, a thought that stilled her spontaneously. Eventually, the line began to move past him to where each of the girls ahead of Mitten and Millicent were instructed to begin disrobing. On either side of the lines were laundry bins on wheels. Each one was designated for a specific article of clothing. Shoes were first in one, followed by stockings, then dresses and shawls, slips, brassieres, and finally, breeches and briefs. As Mitten tentatively began to strip off her clothing, Millicent, conversely, seemed to peel her garments away with a certain amount of enthusiastic verve. When she was finally naked, barely the vision of a preteen girl, she made eye contact with her. Her look was one not of trepidation but of curiosity laced with a healthy dose of appreciation for Mitten's nearly naked form. Now the line turned down a corridor where the entourage of nude girls were led into a room staffed with other students, in their own Petworthy uniforms. As each girl passed a station she was given a part of her new uniform, beginning with a bag to carry sundries and extras like the six pairs of thigh length white stockings, six pairs of white briefs, and six front opening brassieres. Then she was given two sets of pajamas which were warm and flannel and three thin, gauzy night gowns. At last, she was given uniforms, six in all, and the whole of the bag was now heavy with clothing. When she passed through the gauntlet of uniform acquisition, she paused where Millicent and the other girls were being instructed to dress. Gratefully, she did so with haste. She was given a moment or two to fix her hair and then dragged her bag outside into the late evening light. There she was instructed to write her name on a tag and affix it to her bag. A young black boy, tall, long and strong came along and took the bag with a small smile which Mitten returned. She had never met a black boy in her life and had only seen photos of them. He was so dark and mysterious that she was literally taken by the sight. After the mysterious disappearance of her clothes, she followed instructions to enter a stadium styled auditorium that buzzed with activity. There, the remainder of the student body was in the auditorium seated, curiously enough, in every other seat. As the newcomer students entered, they were instructed to find a seat and were compelled to sit among the older, more seasoned students. Mitten went about halfway down and found a seat in the middle of a row. Millicent was soon lost from sight. Mitten sat between a tall, stoic brunette with mi-length black hair and a more squat, round girl with short, wavy strawberry blond hair and an animated face. She turned to Mitten and smiled broadly, extending her hand. "Hi," she beamed, "I'm Constance, second year." Mitten forced a cordial smile, her attention still buzzing over the stinging reprimand she received before.She was still was polite and extended her hand while Constance's face changed to a more comprehending one. "I'm Lavinia Wordsmith...call me Livvy." "You get swatted in line?" Mitten nodded and felt a blush come over her face. Constance face lightened again. "Don't worry about it. You get used to it," Constance assured. "For the first month I was here, I couldn't do anything right. I was getting spanked twice a day it seemed. It's not personal. Actually, the teachers are really nice." Mitten nodded politely and tried to hold that thought in mind, remembering the calm way the handsome administrator strapped her in the line. Mitten went through all of the thoughts she had entertained for the last three months. It was the pain that frightened Mitten most. Yet, she had been raised, as most conservative girls of her generation, with the delicate balance of affection and discipline. While spankings were never something she romanticized about there was always the sweet moments before and after a punishment, laying over Momma or Daddy's lap, their hand resting on their bottom or rubbing it to soothe it, speaking warmly of their love and affection; reminding her that the punishments she received from them was just another expression of their love, mandated in the Scriptures. What troubled Mitten was how that kind of warm, tender experience which made her such a good girl, would translate in this antiseptic and public forum. She had felt deep embarrassment not only of being briefly punished in the lines, but in watching the other girls being made an example of. How could she mine the same sense of purpose from virtual strangers given the authority to touch her nakedness and discipline her bottom? ~ It took about a half hour for the remaining students to come through the lines and find a place in the auditorium which held only about 300 people. Mitten imagined that there were more students at the school and that this auditorium was too small for all of them. She would learn that there were, in fact, nearly 700 girls between the ages of 18 and 20 at Petworthy School. She wondered why the new students were mixed with this select group second year students. When the hall was filled, several administrators took the stage. On cue, the second year students rose to their feet at attention, with the new students clumsily following suit. Among the faculty was Headmistress Cashmere, looking powerful and commanding, even from a distance. She wore a similar black suit to the one she wore to Mitten's home, with a knee length skirt and matching jacket of dark navy and pinstripes. Her normally restrained hair was still back but hung down her back somewhat, which Mitten thought softened her perception of her. "Be seated." Her command, though spoken with a normal voice, still resonated over the quiet throng of girls. "We welcome our sisters who join us for their first year at Petworthy. I have met all of you and left no doubt in your mind that your acceptance here was contingent on the potential that we see in you. This is where you start to learn what that potential is. There is an adage that behind every great man is a great woman. There is truth in that that is both proverbial and literal. Proverbially, every man of greatness needs a woman taking his needs into account, uplifting him, serving him, espousing his greatness, helping him to fulfill his potential, take care of his sexual needs and managing his household. "We will be teaching you the art of submission, both domestically and sexually. However, we teach it not only to know how to provide submission but how to expect it. When you are running a household, you will bringing children and servants under your submission, freeing the husband to pursue his true calling. You will be the one holding children and servants responsible. Everything we do to bring you into submission is also a lesson for how to bring others in submission to you. We are not teaching you to be wall flowers and pretty faces. "I was a student at Petworthy. Some of you have already felt the flat of my hand on your bottom. I am sure you will agree that I am not a shrinking violet." There was a murmuring of soft laughter at the humorous anecdote. "You are being groomed for men of status and control in our country and around the world because the world would fall into chaos if the men were allowed to run it without the guiding, nuanced influence of a submissive woman behind him. It is the irony of history that men dominate. They dominate because we want them to and in our allowance of our submission, we hold an even greater level of control and influence on them than if we actually had them in chains. You new students will learn that in your Intimate Psychology studies. "You will take a variety of classes here. Aside from the conventional, but highly advanced studies of literature, mathematics and the sciences, you will study submission from a personal and corporate level. You will learn about sexuality from a sociological, psychological, and physical standpoint. In your Intimate Studies you will find out what you excel at sexually, what you prefer, how to please your Master, Mistress or Husband, and how to use your sexuality as a tool for long range goal planning." Everything that the Headmistress said made Mitten's stomach churn uncomfortably. Master? Mistress? "Each young woman at Petworthy receives both a student mentor and a guidance counselor who will have the authority to make sure your educational and emotional progress is in line with Petworthy's guidelines and expectations for you as a student here." Even as she heard the words she suspected that Headmistress Cashmere had just expanded the number of people who could punish her. ~ Juniper Lee Genessee from Alabama was the Resident Advisor on their floor and was at the auditorium to meet and lead them to our dormitory. She had a pronounced, slow Virginian accent that seemed to be incongruous with her, straight black hair. It also seemed unlike her large frame. She a thick, bodied girl of 19, and nearly 6 feet tall as Mitten could guess. She talked pleasantly and Mitten noticed that she was walking with a touch of a limp. "Now, you see, everything that you do heaya is going to be scrutinized. When you are walking as we are, posture is important and noticed. Always give a respectful greeting to staff as they pass, calling 'em Miss or Suh." As we walked the perfectly manicured grounds, Mitten noticed in the distance a student and a faculty member sitting on a bench having what seemed to be a calm, reserved private conversation. She almost began to look away when the student calmly rose and lay over the woman's lap. After a moment of walking adjacent, Mitten could see that the woman was talking very calmly and the girl seemed to be accenting without dispute. The skirt was pulled up and the shock of the white panties even at that distance away was startling. "Eyes forward, ladies, unless you want to next on that lap," Juniper Lee said. "That's Miss Astor. She's the Dean of Student Morale and she spanks more girls than anyone here. She is the nicest woman you would ever want to meet, but she is also the strongest believer in spanking for things other than discipline. She spanks as a greeting, because she missed you, because you're doing well, because it's Tuesday...." The girls all laughed nervously. As the sound of the laughing died, the hard smack of hand to skin flesh resonated over the courtyard followed by the girl's yelp of pain. It continued as they walked away but the scene affected Mitten in a way that she couldn't identify. All she knew was that she witnessed something that seemed so benign and almost intimate that she felt like a voyeur. As the distance grew between them as they walked, Mitten could still hear the girl who was crying fully and earnestly as Miss Astor continued her lesson on the girl's bottom. Mitten, Millicent, and Constance all were in the same dormitory; Roosevelt Hall. The dormitories were not private in any way...much like barracks instead. Each floor was given the name of a characteristic that was desired in a girl at Petworthy, like Propriety, Submission, Honesty, and Integrity. Mitten's floor, the second story was called Charity. The beds were simple single beds on steel frames with posts at the head. On the wall of the head of each bed were leather restraints that seemed to disappear into the wall and a matching set on the posts on the head frame of the bed. Mitten suspected that it was for some form of discipline. The hall had a varnished wood floor that was uncomfortable to walk barefoot on. The lavatory and showers, however, were a virtual panacea for Mitten. As affluent as her family was in Omaha, they didn't have any plumbing or running water. This was something she had heard about in fantastic rumor when she was in the Midwest. At the end of two rows of ten beds, the halls emptied into a single entrance to that floor's lavatory and shower house. There state of the art drawstring toilets noisily flushed the girl's urine and droppings away from them. It was a far stretch from depositing those things in the vile odor of the outhouses she was raised with. However there was no privacy stalls for the toilets or the showers. On the wall were instructions for conduct while using the lavatories or showers. Girls were not allowed to choose which toilet to use. They were to take the one that was nearest to the entrance which had no door. They were not allowed to bring or wear any clothing into the shower house. Instead, they were to retrieve a towel from the shelves in the shower house foyer, the entrance of which was adjacent the toilet house entrance from the dorm. Girls on the left side of the building could see (and occasionally smell) the toilet house and girls on the right side were able to see into the shower house. Showers could not be taken alone but with a partner that assisted in the bathing to save hot water. If hot water was exhausted before the entire floor had bathed, the entire floor was subject to discipline. It was estimated that a pair of girls could assist each other in bathing and complete their shower in four minutes. "There ah no rules regarding talking in the showers or even foolin' around, but the rules on time limits and hot water ah pretty strict. We all will be getting the strap for doing it. You can count on it happening at least once. Usually the lesson sticks after that. Ah recommend being naked and quick about your showers until you're sure you have it down to a science." All of the girl's bags of clothes were being brought in by strong, black boys no older than Mitten. When she was waiting on her bunk, the boy who brought hers with longish hair. He was dressed appropriately, in a white shirt with a dark vest and matching dark pants. He was big and muscular and seemed to fully fill his shirt. She guessed that he was easily 6'1" and over 200 pounds. "Thank you, sir," Mitten said politely as he set the bags on the bed for her to tend to. The boy smiled bright in contrast to his rich, dark sienna skin. "Ain't no thing, ma'am; a pleasure to do it." They're gaze lingered a moment more than was normal and cursory and Mitten felt herself blush at the boy's attention, finding herself looking around nervously to see if anyone noticed. She watched him in her peripheral vision as she stowed her belongings in the two drawers she was given or hanging the dresses and blouses in the adjacent standing closet. There was a map in the manual which gave explicit directions in exactly how each item should be set and look in the drawers or bureau. She set the shoes in perfect order in the bottom of the bureau and had each dress exactly one half inch apart from each other on the hangers. She lingered over the details so she could watch him continue his work hauling the girl's bags upstairs. A black girl in a more common but still acceptable dress was assisting him in his work. As she passed by, Mitten stopped her. She was, perhaps, 18 years old herself; wiry and strong, with the same skin tones. "Excuse me, but who is that boy." The girl looked at Mitten flatly. "That boy? He my brotha, Cornelius." The statement hung in the air as almost a sign of ownership and the girl turned in a huff and walked away, leaving Mitten to wonder what had happened and why she had asked in the first place. The Petworthy Finishing School Ch. 03 Where Mitten and the other new students are instructed on the proper etiquette for receiving discipline. * The morning brought on a new salvo of apprehensions. All of the girls were awakened by a bell rung by Juniper Lee at exactly 5:30 AM. The girls of Charity wing were instructed to pair up, shower and prepare for their morning. As is normal for most folk, many of the girls, including Mitten took the first moments to go and relieve themselves. Reluctantly, in her nightgown, she walked into the lavatory and took the third toilet on the left, halfway down as the previous six were all occupied. Oddly, as the girls urinated, several made small talk, which seemed an alien endeavor to the levels of propriety she had known in her own lavatory experiences which centered around outhouses and latrines. Millicent stumbled in behind her and went at least three toilets beyond the last girl on the other row. She presented, wiped and flushed in less than a minute and was making her way sleepily back to her bunk. Once Mitten had emptied her own bladder,she followed her out. Yet by the time that she reached her own bunk, she noticed that Millicent had drawn the attention of Juniper Lee. Her expression was calm but firm and Millicent was looking up at the taller Resident Assistant with a defeated expression. Mitten heard the word "toilet" and realized Millicent's error. Juniper Lee's melodic accent evenly announced that she would have to be punished. Mitten wanted to observe the drama but didn't want to fall into the same predicament, so she undressed for her shower, albeit slowly. Juniper Lee led Millicent to the end of her bed and had her bend over the rail of the bottom posts. She pulled up her gown and quickly tugged down her briefs. As Mitten pulled her own gown over head and lost vision of them, she heard a quick, unrelenting session of barehanded swats on the younger girl's bare bottom. Millicent tried to endure but the rapidity and the force of Juniper Lee's swats began a low, moaning sob in her voice that coincided with her tearing eyes and reddening face. Mitten pulled down her own underwear and retrieved a bath towel from her drawer. As she did, she noted a pause in Millicent's discipline. It was only for Juniper Lee to pull off one of her slippers which she used to continue and intensify the punishment. The slipper with its heavy rubber bottom, like our own, made a loud, intense smack on the cheeks of Millicent's fanny. These strokes caused Mitten's friend to cry out with each swat. She turned away, wrapping the towel around her nakedness, walked to the showers. The rules for showering were simple. Two girls were required to share a shower and assist each other in bathing in a timely manner. One could not bathe with the same girl within three showers. When Mitten got the edge of the shower house there was no one waiting and there were already four pairs of girls in the six shower spouts. Almost as soon as she came to this realization, however, a girl rushed up to join her. "I'll go with you." She hung her towel up next to Mitten's, who could tell that this girl was just as uncomfortable with the thought of sharing a shower with someone she did not know as she was observing the harsh spanking that Millicent was still receiving as they disappeared into the steaming showers. Both walked naked to the nearest stall and opened the spigot which burped abruptly and then erupted with a cascade of hot water which was so hot that the girl had to step out before getting used to its heat on her skin. "My name is Emily," the girl said quietly as she lathered the bar soap in her hands, before handing it to Mitten. "I'm Lavinia...you can call me Livvy." She used the bar to lather the soap up into her own hand . When she did, both girls paused to acknowledge their personal hesitance about the ritual they were compelled to do as well as the resolve that the both seemed to have to be obedient. Mitten nodded almost imperceptibly and they both reached for each other and began soaping the front of each other's body. Emily was actually an unextraordinary girl in her uniform. Naked, she was just as non-descript with smallish breasts and plain, poorly styled hair. But from the moment her soapy hand was upon Emily's skin, Mitten was struck by the unnatural softness of her skin. She actually began to slow the stroking of her soaping hands almost as if to make the sensation last. At the same time, Emily's hands were busy and not as predisposed. Starting from the neck, she lathered down over each shoulder and arm, across her chest and down over her larger breasts. It was done with such purpose and sanitized touch that it could hardly be called intimate even when her hands purposely went down over her belly and the top of her Mons. "Come on," she whispered as she worked, "I know it's weird, but I don't want to get spanked." Mitten apologized and did her best to follow suit, running her hands fully over the smaller girl's wet, soft skin. When she was done with Emily's front, Emily dropped to her knees and began lathering Mitten's legs, bidding her to rest one on her knee. When she did this, Mitten's genitals parted slightly, which must have been Emily's purpose, for when she got to the upper part of her leg, Emily continued to lather right over Mitten's tender sex, roughly and deliberately running two soapy fingers between the cleft of her privates and then unceremoniously dipping inside her. "Hey!" Mitten whispered harshly. Emily didn't even pause from her ministrations on the opposite leg. "Have to. They check everything. Do me that way when its my turn." Emily turned Mitten into the spray of the water and as she rinsed her front felt the girl lathering her back and then over her round bottom, and then between the cheeks with special attention to Mitten's puckered rosebud between. As she stopped though she allowed her hand to linger over her butt a moment as she rose. "You have a pretty bum," she said so as to only be heard be each other. Mitten didn't know how to respond and just smiled awkwardly. "Relax your butt." As she did, she felt Emily's soapy index finger penetrate her rectum. Mitten clenched her teeth at the discomfort but was silent. Emily paid no attention, withdrawing and completing Mitten's bath. Then it was Mitten's turn to administer bathing to Emily. She was business-like and a little rougher, she imagined then Emily was with her. She found the sensation of lathering Emily's small breasts more extraordinary than she could have imagined. When she knelt down before her lathering the girl's legs, she knew that she would be required to clean Emily's intimate parts. As her hands came up the inside of her thigh, she tried to act nonchalant as she let her soapy index and middle fingers part Emily's vaginal cleft. However, she found the space between Emily's labia slick and viscous, the fluid unearthly and warm. Mitten knew from the times that she let herself touch herself in bed at night that it was excitement, and that thought caused her to slow her hand in hesitation. Emily didn't linger on the reaction of her genitals. "Inside." As if commanded, her fingers went farther back and effortlessly pushed into Emily's vagina, using three strong strokes of her soapy fingers. "mmmm..." Emily issued briefly before Mitten removed her fingers. "Now my pooper." Emily didn't flinch or even tense as Mitten pressed her finger into the girl's relaxed anus. Sweeping in and out easily, she was completed with the task and the bathing was completed. They managed to be done almost exactly on time and the next pair was waiting naked at the entrance of the bathhouse. She saw Millicent walking naked with the Asian girl on the floor. As they walked out Emily offered and unsolicited lecture. "If you don't want your butt warmed anymore than necessary, you need to focus while bathing. Remember, you could be getting someone else or the whole class in trouble." There was suddenly an unspoken watching of the showers. Each girl who was finished with their shower and was dressing knew that the girls who were behind them now had their fate in their hand. Emily was dressed before Mitten and stepped over to her, pulling her hair into a little ponytail. "We added about two extra seconds to the total. With so many girls in here, I don't think we're going to make it." Her voice was in a hushed tone though their conversation wasn't prohibited by the rules. Mitten looked up with a hopeless look. Emily smiled wisely. "Don't fret. We did really good. These disciplines are more embarrassing than painful. Everyone gets them." Mitten looked at her incredulously. "How do you know so much?" Emily looked humorously for the first time, lifting a sardonic eyebrow, before sashaying away to her own bunk. Constance came over to Mitten with her eyes always on Emily. "I heard that her mom was a student here." Mitten wondered about what advantages or, perhaps, disadvantages that provided Emily. When the last pair of girls emerged from the showers, Juniper Lee came out of her private bunk room with a time piece in her hand. She was smiling. "Yawl girls did a great job," Juniper Lee gushed. "That was easily one of the fastust fuhst day's shower times ah can remember. Yawl were only two minutes and forty seconds over. Ah'm so proud of you. I guarantee that yawl get the least amount of swats in the whole hall." There was a pregnant pause of discomfort in the room. Mitten felt her heart leap into her throat. "As soon as yawl are dressed, line up at the end of yuh beds and stand at attention. Ayes forward. Administrators will be here in a few minutes for inspection." As the last girls were hurriedly pulling their hair back and straightening their uniforms, the rest of the girls uneasily rose from their bunks and moved to the end of their bunks. As they did, four black girls in maid's clothing came in and began making the beds, while they stood immovable at attention. To Mitten the time seemed interminably long. Enough so that the black girls had already managed to perfectly make seven of the 16 beds, with perfect hospital corners. As they went about their business, Mitten could hear the distant sound of paddling echoing from the downstairs hall. Judging by the number of sounds and the ferocity of the cries from the victims of the paddling, they did not fare as well as Charity Wing would. The Administrators came in finally. Juniper Lee stood up and made introductions. "Eyes here." Every girl turned the head without turning their bodies. They saw a taller man with piercing grey eyes, a goatee beard, a pronounced but not incongruous nose, and well-kept dark brown hair that was probably lighter when dry instead of well greased and combed. It was easy for Mitten to discern that he was not an unhandsome man in his mid 40s, not unlike her own father. The other administrator was the woman Mitten saw on the commons, spanking a student on a bench. She was much younger than the rest of the faculty she had met so far. She could not have reached her thirtieth year yet. She was attractive in a wholesome way, though her dark hair was pulled back in too severe a way to let her look as attractive as she could. She was smiling. Mr. Hull had a formidable wooden paddle in his right hand, with holes strategically drilled and then beveled over its surface. "This is Mr. Hull. He is the Guidance Counselor for this floor. And this is Ms. Astor, who I mentioned to you before, Dean of Student Moral." Juniper turned to Mr. Hull. "How did we do, Miss Genesee?" Mr. Hull's voice was confident and in control, looking Juniper Lee directly in the eyes. "Charity Hall failed to meet its goal of one hour showers, suh, by two minutes and 36 seconds." "That's marvelous, Juniper Lee," Ms. Astor complimented. I'm just sorry I won't get spank your fanny more." Juniper Lee smiled at the comment. Mr. Hull nodded with a small smile of satisfaction but was all business. "Round the time up to the nearest minute...one swat per minute. You first, Miss Genesee?" "Yes, please, suh." She stepped to the nearest bunk and had the occupant move aside. "Ladies, after my paddling, yawl follow my lead exactly as yawl see. Face yuh bunk wall, taking two full steps back from the foot of yuh bunk. Stand with yuh feet facing forward and about one foot length apart. Bend fully at the waist, holding on to the foot rail. Obey the instructions given to you exactly." On cue, Juniper Lee bent at the waist. Miss Astor stepped to her left side and calmly lifted the Resident Assistant's uniform skirt and then easily slipped the white underwear under the cheeks of her bottom. The Dean began slapping the girl's round bottom with her bare hand with light strokes and at a brisk pace. She said something to Juniper Lee that caused the girl to chuckle even as she was being spanked. The warm up took only a minute until she was satisfied. She stepped aside and Mr. Hull stepped up, having removed his dress coat, and rolled up his sleeve. He patted the heavy wood on Juniper's bottom as if he were lining up a golf putt, before pulling back and walloping her with the paddle. "AAAGHHH!" Juniper Lee cried out fully and then centered herself. "One. Thank you Mr. Hull." Again the paddle swooped and pounded the soft butt flesh. "OWWWW!!!..........Two.......thank you, Mr. Hull." A third and final swat; by the sound of it the hardest of the trio. "AAAAAHHHHH!!...eh..uh...three....thank you...Mr. Hull." Juniper Lee held her head down and seemed to shake off the pain. She caught the hem of her skirt, faced the wall and remained there with her reddened bottom showing. At Miss Astor's signal all of the girls seemed to turn in unison, so Mitten followed suit. As she took her position accordingly and bent over, she heard the girl three bunks down being spanked by Miss Astor. Mitten turned her head and saw Miss Astor turn to the second girl in line. Then the paddle landed on the first girl who cried out in pain and shock. Soon the room was filled with the sounds of discipline; bare hand slaps, the hard thwock of the paddle, soft sobbing and harsh cries of pain. Before she knew it Miss Astor reached Mitten's position. She felt the younger woman pull her skirt up and effortlessly slide her underwear past her round cheeks. "You would be Miss Wordsmith, yes?" How did she know of her? "Yes, ma'am." Miss Astor began swatting Mitten's bare bottom. Her swats were quick enough to redden and soften the skin, but not enough to particularly hurt. After about twenty quick swats, she seemed satisfied with her work. "Very nice," she said idly before moving to the next girl. Mr. Hull reared back and gave the previous girl her final hard swat which caused her to growl her final thank you. By the time she was finished the declaration, Mr. Hull had already turned to Mitten. She felt the guidance counselor's strong, wide hand on the small of her bare back. A moment later the paddle landed over her cheeks. "OOOOWWWW!!!!.......one....thank you, sir...I mean, Mr. Hull." As soon as her verbal obligation was complete, the second swat came down across her cheeks, even harder. "AAAAUUGGHH!!.......ooowwwiee...t..two...tthh..thank you, Mr. Hull." She was crying unashamedly now. Still the paddle gave no respite and the final swat was so hard that Mitten felt her knees buckling from the force and pain. "AAAAAAAHHHHH...AAAAAAHHHH...oh God......uuhhhh...th....threeee....aaaaawwwghh....than...thank you....Mr. Hull." Mr. Hull moved to the next girl but in her peripheral vision she was certain she could see him shaking his head in disappointment. Mitten continued to cry as the next girl began to receive her paddling. Mitten became aware that she was the only who continued crying. Still, she could not stop so she did not even rise up but remained bent over while she wept. Finally, she began to curtail her sobbing and stood holding up her skirt and facing the the back of her bunk, her bare angry bottom for all to see. She was sure that she must have been spanked harder for some reason that she did not know. Perhaps that was how Miss Astor knew who she was. The black girl who declared to her that she was Cornelius' sister was making up her bunk. She kept looking up at Mitten with a worried expression. ~~~~ After they were dismissed from their hall, the girls of Charity floor had breakfast in the dining hall. This was run by an enclave of black women, all seemingly brighter and more wise than their station seemed to dictate. One woman, who seemed to notice that Mitten was a little more haggard in the face then the rest of her compatriots, gave her a kind word. "You'll be fine baby girl," she said with an accent that spoke of southern roots. "If the worst thing that happens to you is that your fanny gets warmed, you're life is good." Mitten thanked her for the kindness and for the extra square of corn bread offered to her. Their first meal was scrumptious and well prepared; scrambled eggs with bits of obviously expensive bacon, steel cut oats with brown sugar, and the sweet cornbread. It also seemed like the dining hall was a place for the girls to let their hair down so to speak and not be so stiff as the expectation was everywhere else. Mitten carried her tray out and looked for someone to sit with. She saw Emily, but realized somehow that she was not going to be a supportive friend. Eventually, Millicent emerged from the line just as an overseeing administrator was about to move Mitten along with a swat. "Quite a day," Millicent said idly as they sat at a table where three other girls from Charity wing were dining; Soo Jung Ho from Korea, Haley and Hadley, the twins, and Laura Winters from Australia. The twins were from Southern California. Their dark skin and light blonde hair betrayed this fact long before they introduced themselves. Soo wore round wire-rimmed glasses and looked every bit of the intellectual that Asian students are rumored to be. She was the valedictorian at Polytechnic High School in San Francisco. Laura was a full bodied, light-eyed girl from Perth. She told everyone that she liked to be called "Abby" and that she didn't like boys nearly as much as she preferred dating girls. This actually titillated Mitten. For all of the focus on Discipline, Mitten knew that her heart of submission to a husband would be brought out by her untapped sexuality. In the weeks leading up to her leaving Omaha, she found her hand straying between her legs on a nightly basis as her mind meandered over the possibilities of what "Intimate Studies" would be like at Petworthy. In fact, her life after bedtime had developed an entire repertoire of methodology in finding new ways to pleasure herself without breaking her hymen. When she was still a fresh faced girl of nine years old, she learned that the gentle touch of her fingers over the folds of skin that nestled in the cleft between her legs gave her enormous pleasure. As she grew old and learned about life, she realized that she was climaxing. When she developed pubic hair she wondered if it was a curse for being too sexual too early. Now was the time though. Sex was a place where she could excel and be the student and submissive bridesmaid she was called to be...a young woman that her Daddy could be proud of. The girls began to chat freely and at a different table there seemed to be even more earnest frolic going on as was want with girls their age. However, when bread began to be tossed playfully back and forth an administrator came to the table and all of the girls fell still. Millicent leaned towards Mitten to say something but she hushed her. Mitten couldn't make out what was being said, however, judging by the expressions on the girl's faces they were in trouble for their mischief. One at a time, the administrator asked each girl a question. If the girl appeared to answer in the affirmative, she was instructed to step to the front of the Dining Hall where there was a small stage for apparent announcements or for multiple use like assemblies. All told, there were seven of the nine girls at the far end of the table were called to the front.