A Tour of the Facility

[goodgulf]

Note: The three stories:
A Visit to the Facility at http://www.spanko.net/spanking_forums/v ... f=3&t=2092,
A Tour of the Facility http://www.spanko.net/spanking_forums/v ... f=3&t=2097,
and
Wrongly Admitting Her To The Facility at http://www.spanko.net/spanking_forums/v ... f=3&t=2100

are all set at the same Facility and were written in that order. Not that they have to be read in that order, but there is one element in "A Tour" that places it after "A Visit".


A Tour of the Facility


Abigail Mays (Abby to her friends) was in heaven. At least this place was heaven to her. It might be hell for others, but they weren't part of the Mays family. She had never visited this facility before and it might strike fear in the hearts of some, but with her Aunt Molly and Uncle Toby escorting her, Abby was completely immune to the facility's dire reputation.

"That girl there made a face at me." Abby proclaimed.

"She did?" Director Bachman queried. "Well we can't have that now, can we? A piece of rubbish has no business attempting to annoy her betters."

The girl Abby had pointed to went pale, but one of the workers was already descending on her. Abby grinned as the girl was made to bend, had her underwear yanked down, then the strap started falling.

And falling. Well passed the three that the director had mentioned was the norm.

"That's enough." Director Bachman said. "Put her name on report for discipline night so we can move on."

"Will she be allowed to dress?" Abby asked.

"No, not after that. Confiscate her underwear." Director Bachman directed.

That left the girl in her blouse, socks, and her too short grey skirt. And her tears.

"What was she sentenced here for?" Molly asked.

"For whatever the judge decided." Director Bachman said offhandedly. "Now if you'll come this way you can see one of our classrooms. Not that these girls can be educated; even if they weren't rubbish to start with they are too old to learn. Maybe if we had them when they were young, but they don't send juveniles here."

"Of course they don't." Toby agreed.

"And by the time we get them, they are too old to have sense pounded into them." Director Bachman continued. "Too old to mould. Of course we still try but we know we the attempt is foredoomed."

Abby nodded along with the others.

"It's just a shame that you've arrived today." Director Bachman said. "Unfortunately we aren't admitting any inmates at the present. Otherwise you could see their transformation from dirty little criminals to inmates."

"That's too bad." Toby noted. "I'm told that it's a dramatic transformation."

"Very dramatic." Director Bachman agreed. "To see them go through the admitting centre, it's a sight to remember."

"Admitting centre?" Abby asked. "Will we be seeing it?"

"It's not part of the normal tour." Director Bachman said. "But if you'd like Warden Turner could show you the admittance centre. That is, if your uncle agrees."

"If she wants to see it then that's fine with me." Toby declared.

"And with me too." Molly added.

"Then it's settled. Warden Turner, if you would escort her?" Director Bachman asked.

"Of course director." Warden Turner said smartly.

"Great!" Abby smiled.


A few minutes later Warden Turner was handing Abby off another worker.

"Ah, Anne. Here she is." Warden Turner said. "Normally I'd tell you that she's to accompany the inmates, but there's no one to accompany, is there? Of course there's no hair or hoses scheduled."

"So where do they enter?" Abby asked.

"Through there."

Abby followed the woman's hand as it pointed, not noticing that Warden Turner was leaving.

"And where do they go then Anne?" Abby asked.

"It's Ms. Chapman to you." Anne Chapman snapped. "You want to know about admitting? Fine, come this way."

Abby shrugged, then followed. Soon she was at a desk with a box on it.

"Now the clothing goes into this box." Anne Chapman told her. "Clothing and all effects. Cell phone, watch, jewellery, everything."

"I see. They have to strip here? Where anyone can see? How embarrassing." Abby snickered. "What next?"

"Next? We're still waiting for the first step." Anne Chapman snapped.

"What?"

"Strip." Anne Chapman ordered. "Now. Or do you need help?"

"What?" Abby was stunned, then she laughed. "You're confused. I'm here on a tour, not an inmate. My clothes are staying on."

"No, you're stripping." Anne Chapman declared.

Abby had to laugh.

"Now you're just being silly and..."

Her voice died at the sight of the two muscular women entering the room.

"A reluctant one?"

"Do we have to get Donald in?"

"Yeah, Donald will get her clothes off in a flash. He might rip some of them but they'd be off."

Abby shrank back from the rough looking women and their talk of someone named Donald. Her having to remove clothing, that was a mistake, but having someone named Donald around when she did it, that would be intolerable.

"But there's a mistake being made." Abby protested.

"Strip." Anne Chapman ordered in an iron voice. "Now."

"Um..."

"Do you need help getting those clothes off?"

"We can help."

Abby shivered again, then slid of her shoes.

'Shoes are nothing.' Abby thought, hoping that someone who knew her would walk through the door and save her.

"Well don't stop now." Anne Chapman directed. "If I have to take your pants down then you'll regret it."

"Um, but..."

The three women converged on Abby. The two muscular ones held her arms while Anne Chapman undid Abby's slacks. The woman yanked them down and started landing smacks where Abby's thong didn't cover her bottom.

"Hey! STOP! What are you doing!" Abby demanded, trying to twist away.

Trying and failing. The two women holding her were just too strong to escape.

Five smacks later, Anne Chapman pulled Abby's pants back up, redoing them.

"Are you fucking nuts?!?!" Abby demanded. "What do you think you were doing?"

"Doing? I'm giving you your first warning." Anne Chapman declared. "You don't want to feel the second. Now strip."

"But you already had my pants down." Abby complained.

"You need to strip now." Anne Chapman said firmly. "You. Strip. Here. Now."

The two women released her arms and Abby stood there.

"You. Strip. Here. Now." Anne Chapman repeated.

Abby shivered. She knew it was a mistake but somehow that fact only mattered to her.

Licking her lips nervously, Abby started to undo her blouse. One button at a time. Trying to draw it out. No one told her to hurry but Abby only had so many buttons. All too soon Abby ran out of button. Under their wilting stare, she removed her blouse to reveal her designer bra.

"In the box!" Anne Chapman barked. "Put it in the box. Now!"

Shivering, Abby placed it the box.

"And the shoes." Anne Chapman ordered.

Abby leapt to obey, adding her shoes to the box.

"Purse, phone, jewellery." Anne Chapman barked.

"Phone!" Abby excitedly, removing it from her purse. "I could call my uncle and he could put the director on..."

Abby's plan died when the phone was wrestled from her grasp. It was tossed into the box on top of her blouse.

"We could call him and..."

"The rest. Now!" Anne Chapman ordered.

"But..."

At a signal, the women grabbed her arms again. Once more Anne Chapman pulled Abby's slacks down, but this time there were about ten smacks, some of them landing her upper thighs.

"No! Stop! I'll do it! I'll do it!" Abby shrieked, trying to twist free.

Then her slacks were pulled back up and her arms released. Abby stood there, sobbing.

"Strip!" Anne Chapman barked.

Abby started with her socks, then her slacks. Then her jewellery - emptying all of her piercings as she obeyed her captors.

Then she hesitated. She was down to her bra and thong and didn't want to go further.

"This is enough, isn't it?" Abby asked, almost begging. "I'll be wearing something over it so..."

They didn't give her a chance to finish. This time Anne Chapman yanked down Abby's thong, leaving it at mid thigh, and raining down smacks on Abby's bare bottom. Not that it really mattered, them being down. They hadn't covered much of her bottom cheeks when they were up.

"No! Stop! You can't! Please! You can't! Uncle Toby! Uncle Toby! Stop!" Abby begged.

Stop she did, only to yank up Abby's thong. Yanking it hard enough to dig in deeply.

Then Anne Chapman was behind the desk and the women were releasing her again.

"Strip." Anne Chapman ordered.

A tear rolled down Abby's right cheek as she removed her bra and placed it in the box. Taking a deep breath, she gave in and removed her thong.

"That barely needed covering." Anne Chapman sneered. "Do you shave or are you just a little girl?"

"I shave, but not all of it." Abby protested.

She was tempted to point to her small landing strip but couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Now for the shower." Anne Chapman said.

"Shower?" Abby asked in dismay.

"Shower." Anne Chapman confirmed. "We can't have your dirty skin touching our clean clothes can we?"

"But I took a shower today and..."

"Shower." Anne Chapman said, shutting the box on Abby's old life.

Abby could barely believe what was happening as she was escorted to a communal shower. The muscular women accompanied her in.

"But... No!" Abby pleaded. "No! Don't do this! I'm not an inmate! I'm here on a tour!"

She stood there, sobbing, as the water rained down her and the two women washed her. They soaped up her arms and back, then her legs, then her breasts, belly and bottom. All the while raining down smacks on her bottom and thighs (some of them landing on the sides or front of her thighs), cowing her into submission.

Then one of them left briefly and returned with a bath bush. A bath brush and a smile.


By the time the shower ended, parts of Abby had been scrubbed raw. She had long since stopped resisting, not that her submission brought an end to the interment rain of smacks. Submitting to her captors, she let them style her hair, not even protesting when they removed her landing strip with a razor. Or when they dressed her and redressed her, making sure that her panties were at just the right angle. Three different bras appeared as they worked to find one perky enough.

"I'm taking you to the director." Anne Chapman told Abby. "And one wrong word from you, just one, and..."

That trailing silence was worse than anything that Anne Chapman could describe. Abby found herself nodding, unable to risk saying anything.

And escort her Anne Chapman did. She had one arm around Abby's shoulder, her hand firm on Abby's opposite arm, as she walked her charge back to the main building.


Then she caught sight of her aunt and uncle and Abby's spirits soared.

"Uncle Toby! I ..."

Abby's voice cut off. Her keeper was squeezing her arm tightly, tightly enough to bruise.

"Well Abby, I almost didn't recognise you." Toby said.

"But Uncle Toby..."

A familiar ring tone sounded. Toby held up one finger for silence and cued his hands free phone.

"Oh, you look so cute in that." Molly gushed. "You were right to want to try it on. I wonder if they'd have one in my size?"

"But... But Aunt ..."

Once more a squeeze. Abby couldn't believe this was happening! Couldn't her relatives see that she was in distress? That she was little more than a prisoner here?

"Right, we have to go." Toby announced. "Something's come up and I have somewhere to be - now!"

"Of course." Molly agreed. "I'll drive if you want."

"If you insist."

Abby knew that they were just saving face, that while Uncle Toby's connections had kept him out of jail they hadn't been enough for him to keep his license. Not after that last DUI.

"We're going?" Abby asked hopefully.

"Um, we is too strong of a word." Toby answered. "I have to go now, right now. I don't have time to wait for you to change."

"But I could just ...."

"You picked the wrong time to experiment with fashions." Director Bachman told her. "Facility uniforms must stay in the facility. Someone was 'borrowing' them for parties and returning them soiled. We can't afford to increase the amount of laundry we do, so now the policy is to report any missing ones as stolen."

"Oh, she can't be reported as thief." Molly said. "Is it all right for her to stay here? Not as inmate but as a..."

"Molly, we have to go now!"

"Yes, of course." Director Bachman answered. "When will you be back for her?"

Toby was already walking away, but he called back.

"Not until tonight. Say 10?"

"I'm sorry, but we close for visitors at..."

"Then can she spend the night?" Molly said, turning to follow her husband.

"Aunt Molly!"

"Of course." Director Bachman replied.

"It's just for the night dear." Molly said, calling it over her shoulder as she rushed after her husband. "I'll be back first thing tomorrow. And it's not like you're really an inmate."

"But..."

They weren't listening. Then they were gone. Leaving her here.

"She's not an inmate?" Anne Chapman asked. "Oh, there might have been a little confusion over that."

"A little?" Abby demanded, some of her spirit returning.

"Accidents happen." Director Chapman said in a banal tone. "It's not like she was giving the pageboy cut or hosed down."

"Accidents happen?" Abby demanded. "They made me strip! They smacked my bum! They washed me! They..."

"They did what they thought their jobs were." Director Bachman said, interrupting. "It sounds as if you were given the standard sign in package. If so, you have my apologises."

"But..."

"Think about it for a moment. Do you think we get many girls who are just wandering through the admittance centre, alone, with no one for them to watch?" Director Bachman challenged. "It was a honest mistake, nothing more."

"But..."

"But you haven't been admitted." Director Bachman informed her. "You are just here on what is now an extended tour. Relax. Wander the facility. Enjoy yourself. Very few people will ever get the tour you're getting, at least without being sentenced here or signed in. It's something that you can tell your friends about - suitably edited of course."

Abby forced herself to calm down somewhat.

"I see. Can I at least get my real clothes instead of this ridiculous uniform?"

"Of course you can."

Abby's moment of relief was just that, a moment.

"Um, excuse me sir, but her box had jewellery in it so it went in the vault, sir." Anne Chapman said. "As per policy."

"Oh? Sorry, I hadn't realised."

"Hadn't realised what?" Abby demanded.

"The vault is on a time lock." Director Bachman explained. "We can't open it, not now. But don't worry, your clothes will be waiting for you tomorrow."

"But... But couldn't I wear a staff uniform?" Abby asked, clutching at straws. "So no one will mistake me for an inmate?"

"Regulations are firm on that." Director Bachman answered. "Only employees may wear them and you aren't not an employee."

"But couldn't I just..."

"No, I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do." Director Bachman informed her. "It seems you're stuck in that outfit for today. And even if we did allow you to dress as if you were staff there's no staff sleepwear."

"But... No! This is stupid! I'll call a cab and..."

"I'm sorry, but there are no personal calls allowed." Director Bachman said with a shrug. "If you don't have your own phone with you then you can't call out."

"But you could call and..."

"I'm sorry, but that's not an option. Look, just try to relax and enjoy yourself. Ms. Chapman will escort you while you're here. It's the least she can do, after that mix-up and she knows that you're not an inmate. I'm sorry, but the circumstances are such that that's the best I can do. I'm sure you understand that my hands are tied."

Abby found herself nodding along with him. The way he put thing made them sound so logical.


Supper was odd. Abby ate in a private room with Anne Chapman. Not a private dinning room, that would be too much to ask. Anne Chapman left Abby in an empty classroom and left to get food.

Alone in the classroom, dressed an inmate, Abby couldn't help but sit at a desk. First one, then another. None of them had been designed for a child to sit in; kids just didn't end up in this facility. Going to another chair, Abby was about to sit down when she noticed something on the seat. Not quite a wet spot but some sort of residue.

"Ew!" Abby said, moving to another seat.

Putting one (the residue) and one (the fact that some girls lost their panties) together meant that the spot had to be a secretion that some girl had left behind. Some girl had sat on that seat, with her bare bum touching it, and left her mark. Then Abby hesitated.

'No one will ever know.' Abby said, sliding down her own panties before sitting at a desk. Unlike an inmate, she still had her panties on; she just had them down at her knees where they were hidden by the desk. Shifting slightly, Abby adjusted her skirt so her bare skin was touching the chair.

Of course that's when Anne Chapman returned with her meal.

"Eating there are we?" Anne Chapman said, carrying the tray in.

"Um, sure." Abby nodded.

The tray had cafeteria style food. There was a metal tray with compartments that held various types of food. There was stew like substance, a green vegetable, and something that might be potatoes or squash. That room for a cup that was filled with some sort of drink. Anne Chapman placed the tray on the desk and stayed to watch Abby eat. Just strolled around the room as Abby tried to swallow the garbage that she had been given.

Anne Chapman's presence was both good and bad. It was good in that her presence meant that no would mistake Abby for an inmate, and bad, since it meant that Abby couldn't pull up her panties. Abby couldn't even adjust her skirt; she had to stay there with her bare bum resting on the hard wooden seat as she ate.

'This is silly.' Abby decided. 'I'm a big girl and I'm not an inmate. I'll just adjust my clothes and if she says something then I'll tear into her for making that mistake in the first place.'

"Is there a reason your panties are down?" Anne Chapman asked.

"Huh?" Abby asked, her train of thought derailed.

"I didn't notice when I came in, but I can see them from here." Anne Chapman said conversationally. "Did someone take them down?"

"Um, no, I um, I just..."

"Stand up." Anne Chapman said, approaching the desk where Abby was eating.

"Um, but..."

"Stand Up!" Anne Chapman barked.

Abby shot to her feet and stood there, her panties falling to her knees. Anne Chapman walked up to her and flipped up Abby's skirt.

"There's no fresh colour." Anne Chapman noted. "There would be, if someone had told you to lower them."

"But well um huh er." Abby babbled.

"So you must have decided to see how it felt to sit there, with your bare buns touching that seat, like you were really enrolled here." Anne Chapman concluded.

"Um, well, maybe?" Abby squeaked, then reached for her underwear.

"No!" Anne Chapman ordered. "You wanted to know so now you'll know. When an inmate has her panties lowered she doesn't decide when she gets them up. Actually, step out of them. I'll hold them until you're done eating. That way you can say you understand a part of the inmate experience."

"Excuse me?" Abby demanded. "Excuse me? After what I went through you think I need this to know about the inmate experience!"

"No, you know the admittance process." Anne Chapman told her. "Not how inmates feel."

"Couldn't I just..." Abby said, reached down.

"No! Step out of them." Anne Chapman ordered. "You took them down for a reason and now you'll step out of them for the same reason. Now!"

Abby blushed, but she stepped out of her panties. Anne Chapman collected them and put them in her pocket. Then she guided Abby back to her seat, holding Abby's skirt up so that Abby was once more sitting bare on the seat with her legs wide apart. Where she remained until she finished her meal. Only then did Anne Chapman produce Abby's panties. Abby held out her hand for them, but Anne Chapman merely grunted and told her to lift her foot. After a moment Abby did and stood there as Anne Chapman pulled her panties up, positioning them at just the right level on her waist. Abby blushed as for the second time that day someone else put her panties on for her.

Abby thought that things couldn't get any worse than that.


She was wrong.

"My shift is ending and you're spending the night here." Anne Chapman repeated. "Did you think we had a guest suite set aside for you? Of course not. You're spending the night in a dorm."

"But I can't stay in a dorm." Abby protested. "People will think that I'm an inmate or something."

"There's no other choice." Anne Chapman told her. "And since you don't get a choice but spend the night in a dorm you don't want to be dragged in there kicking and screaming, do you?"

Abby considered it for a moment. She didn't want to involve any of the facility's staff. Especially not while she was dressed like this.

Which she wouldn't be for long.


"But I'm not an inmate." Abby told the circle of girls. "I'm not."

"Sure you aren't."

"We get tourists spending the night all the time."

"You're just here for a visit. Right"

"I saw you." One of them said. "Earlier today. You said I made a face at you."

Abby's face went white. How could they have put her in this room? Then the answer dawned - they hadn't cared about her false accusation enough to track who Abby had accused. Some smacks had been given and no one really noticed, which meant that she was now open to retaliation.

"You were with your parents." The girl continued. "And they left her here."

Everyone laughed at this.

"By 'accident'." The girl continued.

The laughter grew harder. A couple of the girls doubled over with hysterics.

"I'm just here for the night." Abby insisted, wondering if a fight was about to break out.

But it didn't. The girls just left her alone after that. At least they did until the intercom announced that lights out was only five minutes away. It was then when someone showed Abby to her bed where her sleepwear was waiting.

"You have got to kidding." Abby said as she looked at the sleepwear.

The main garment was a cross between an oversized T-shirt and nightgown. A fresh pair of panties rested beside it.

"I am so not wearing this." Abby declared.

A declaration that was met with laughter. One of the girls in the dorm called over.

"If you don't change you'll regret it."

Another one called:

"No, don't change. They won't tell you to do it so you don't have to. Just sleep in the uniform"

"Jean! Don't be mean."

"Don't mind Jean." One of the girls called. "She used to work here before she screwed up big time. Now she's an inmate, just like the rest of us."

"Oh." Abby said, looking away from the woman.

She turned to face the wall to change. Abby barely had her skirt off before the other girls started to give catcalls.

"Just a tourist?"

"Look at those thighs."

"She's showing the school colours!"

"No girl gets the skirt without the smacking."

"She's an inmate." Jean crowed.

Abby turned on and screamed "I am not."

"Oh, someone got her little cootie shaved."

"Or maybe she's too young for down there hair?"

"I am not!" Abby said heatedly. "I am..."

Then she broke from the argument and changed into her sleepwear. It wasn't much to wear, but it was better than being half-naked around the others. Then the lights went out, plunging the room into total darkness.

"Get into bed." One of the girls hissed. "They'll be by with flashlights in a couple of minutes and if they find you out of bed..."

"I'm not an inmate." Abby snapped.

"Will the staff member who finds you know that?"

Abby opened her mouth, but her fast rejoinder died on her lips. The accident might happen again. Someone might mistake her for an inmate. Anne Chapman was gone for the night, Director Bachman was probably gone for the night, maybe everyone who knew that she wasn't an inmate was gone for the night. A terrible, terrible mistake might be moments away from happening.

Abby dove into bed, darting below the rough cotton sheets.

They were the roughest sheets she had ever slept in.

The bed was the smallest one she had ever slept in. And the least comfortable. Abby was sure that she would never get to sleep.


A pillow landed on Abby's head, waking her up.

"Come on. Wake up."

"Go away." Abby moaned sleepily.

"Come on, it's time to get dressed."

"Go away. I told you, I'm not an inmate."

Abby wasn't sure if they believed her or not, but it didn't matter. The other girls in the dorm room tore her from her bed and practically ripped her nightwear off. Then they dressed her, forcing her into clothes that were practically identical to what she wore yesterday. Just another of the facility's standard issue uniforms.

"Come on. We're part of the last seating. If we're late we won't eat until noon."

"But I'm leaving soon." Abby protested.

"Even if you are, we aren't." Jean said nastily. "And you're with us until you leave. Don't make us late or..."

Abby thought about what they could do to her and decided to co-operate.


Breakfast was hell. A crowded dining hall, countless straps landing on bottoms. Bottoms in skirts just like hers. Looking around, Abby couldn't spot a single face that belonged to anyone who knew why she was there. After a breakfast of porridge (or some disgusting form of gruel) the girls from her room were herding her to the bathroom.

Once there Abby was forced over the bathroom counter and her panties were rudely pulled down. She felt a splash of water that hit her thigh (and panties) then a nozzle was shoved up her bottom! They held her as the water filled her, then, laughing like schoolgirls, they left her there.

Abby was barely able to reach the toilet without having an accident.

"This isn't me." Abby muttered to herself. "I'm not an inmate. I'm a free woman."

After the embarrassment, no, after the humiliation of the last few minutes, Abby was ready to leave. Leave now. She cleaned up and stormed out of the bathroom, looking for the first staff member she could find.

That first one was a stern looking woman who had no idea who Abby was. Which Abby thought was piss poor way of running things. There was only one guest who had spent the night here - you would think that someone would have told all the staff members about her.

The staff member checked with a com device, but Abby didn't like what she overheard. The woman wasn't asking about how to deal with a tourist but where there was room to stash a wandering student. Abby heard the answer, that something called "remedial handwriting" had some spare seats.

"But I'm not an inmate." Abby repeated.

"Right. You just wandered in and happened to wearing one of our uniforms. That happens all the time. Come on, we'll stash in remedial handwriting for now and worry about the rest later, okay?"

"But..."

Abby saw the staff member's hand moving towards the strap she wore at her wrist.

"Okay, okay, I'll go." Abby acquiesced. "Just don't forget to let Director Bachman know where I am, okay?"


Abby found herself in a classroom, but thankfully not the one she had eaten in yesterday. A strict looking woman sat at the desk at the front of the class and most of the seats were filled with inmates. Abby was briefly introduce to Ms. Howland and told to take a seat.

Abby couldn't believe it. They were actually studying handwriting. Handwriting! Longhand! Nobody wrote anymore longhand anymore. They typed, they texted, and maybe they printed on a piece of paper, but no one actually wrote. And the exercise! Abby was given a workbook and told to make B's. Not just any types of B's, capital B's that were hand-written. She was expected to write B after B after B until she had them right.

One page of them was enough, more than enough.

"Enough!" Abby said. "I'm not even suppose to be here. I'm not an inmate. Someone get Director Bachman and tell him to let me go!"

The other girls in the classroom just looked at her.

"Well I don't know who you are, but I think it's time we entered your name in the book." Ms. Howland said.

"I'm not an inmate her so you can't enter my name in any book." Abby snapped. "And that's what Director Bachman will tell you when you call him for his book."

"I don't need to call him for his book." Ms. Howland laughed. "His is only for strappings. I have my own book to record hand spankings."

"What the hell?" Abby asked.

"You're in luck." Ms. Howland said. "I'm only permitted to write in five names a week and I've still got three empty left spaces."

"No fucking way you're doing that." Abby declared.

"I see. Bo? Kenzi? Good news. It looks as if you get to help me again." Ms. Howland said with a smile.

A smile that was echoed by a pair of the inmates. They converged on Abby and dragged her to the front of the room.

"No! No you fucking inmates! You can't do this to me!" Abby protested.

"Oh yes we can." Bo grinned.

"We have permission." Kenzi grinned.

"Let go of me!" Abby insisted as she futilely fought the two bigger girls.

Ms. Howland moved her chair away from her desk as the two women forced Abby towards her.

"No! You can't!" Abby protested.

"Don't worry." Ms. Howland told her. "It's just fifteen smacks."

"Are you fucking nuts?"

"Fifteen smacks on each cheek." Ms. Howland corrected. "And any that miss the cheeks don't count."

"I'm not an inmate!" Abby screamed. "I'm not!"

Ms. Howland didn't bother to answer. With the two girls helping her she had no problem getting Abby's bare bottom over her lap. As for securing her, the girls helped with that too. With one girl holding her arms and the other her legs, Abby's options were strictly limited.

Ms. Howland wasn't in any sort of hurry. She landed a smack then gave Abby a chance to recover before bringing her palm down again. Drawing it out she made things last minute after minute. Abby wasn't moving much, but somehow she moved enough for five smacks to land on her thighs.

Five smacks that didn't count.

Before it was over Abby was crying, but she wasn't sure if they were tears of frustration or tears of pain.

"A classic case of hysterics. She's useless like this." Ms. Howland declared. "She won't be able to write a single letter. You two, take her to the bathroom and get her settled down."

"Come on girl." Kenzi said.

"Yeah, we got to treat your hysteria." Bo smiled.

The two of them moved Abby off of Ms. Howland's lap and got her moving to the bathroom.

"Don't worry. We've done it before." Bo told her.

"We like doing it." Kenzi grinned.


Once in the bathroom, things started to get weird. First they started to rub the ache out her bottom. Abby was okay with that, but their fingers didn't stop at her bottom.

"Hey." Abby protested weakly. "I'm not... Okay, there was a few times but that was with friends but I was drunk and I don't know you that well so..."

"Shut it!" Kenzi barked.

"It's the treatment for female hysteria." Bo revealed. "Check any nineteenth century medical journal and you'll see it there."

"But... No." Abby said weakly.

"Come on." Kenzi said. "You want this. You know you want this. Everyone wants this. None of the male guard will do you."

"There's ..." Bo started.

"Only if he knows you." Kenzi corrected. "And sisters have to take care of sisters."

"Um, well, um...NO!" Abby protested.

"Don't worry, tonight you'll get a chance to show us what kind of a cunt licker you are." Kenzi said cruelly.

"No! I'm really not into that." Abby protested.

"Shush!" Bo cautioned.

"HELP!" Abby screamed.

They gagged her then. Abby was shocked when they shoved her uniform's panties into her mouth, but they didn't stop at that. Kenzi held her arms while Bo sat on her and fingered her. With her bottom still burning Abby felt her body behaving in ways she didn't want. Responding to their attentions.

Once the girls had finished her 'treatment' the two of them left her lying there in shame, with her panties in her mouth and the rough feel of their fingers lingering inside her.


Abby didn't know how long she lay there.

"This is wrong." Abby told herself. "This is so wrong. This might be how the inmates live but I'm not an inmate."

Gathering her wits, Abby took her panties to the sink and washed them. Not rinsed them, she washed and washed them, hoping to finally feel clean when the last of her spit from gone from them. Finally she put them on wet, trusting that her body heat would dry them. They left a wet mark on her skirt, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered except returning to her normal life. Leaving the bathroom, Abby walked up to the first staff member she saw and demanded to see the director. Demanded in the voice she had used countless times with store clerks, shop assistants, and personal groomers. She invoked the lilt in her voice that had terrified countless spa workers. Abby used it, her will, every part of her upbringing, all of her position and standing - putting all of that into her voice and not stopping until she heard the staff member talking to the director on her com unit.


Walking into the director's office now felt completely different from yesterday. Yesterday she had entered as a tourist, lording her status over the inmates. Now she knew a bit, just a bit, of how they lived. Abby almost felt empathy for those girls now.

But only almost. Abby knew in her heart of hearts that those other girls deserved to be here. That they weren't (and could never be) her equal.

"Ah, young Abigail Mays." Director Bachman said, rising to meet her. "Or do you prefer Abby? My, my. I've seen my share of damp panties but none quiet that wet."

"You can call me Abigail." Abby said firmly, ignoring the dig from this petty functionary. "And you can call me a cab. Now."

"That won't be necessary." Director Bachman said, practically purring. "Your Aunt Molly has already been here."

"Aunt Molly? Really?" Abby said, looking around. "Where is she?"

"She left you this letter." Director Bachman said, sliding a sealed envelope towards her.

Abby tore it opened. Scanning it, she couldn't believe the contents. Aunt Molly had looked into the classroom while Abby was getting spanked. Aunt Molly had actually seen that and not walked in and put a stop to it. Then came the other words, the ones that made less sense.

"I didn't realise that you wanted to know what it really feels like to be an inmate here. I've made the arrangements. Don't worry; I'll make excuses for you so that none of your friends find out that you wanted to know how inmates feel or even that you're staying here."

The words made no sense to her. No sense at all.

"What does this mean?" Abby whimpered. "What does this mean?"

"Oh, I'll tell you what this means." Director Bachman said, sliding some paperwork towards her.

Those papers meant very little. Almost nothing.

"A week and a fortnight?" Abby asked. "What does that mean?"

"It means, Abby, that for the next three weeks you will be an inmate here." Director Bachman told her.

"It's Abigail." Abby corrected weakly.

"No it isn't." Director Bachman said gently. "Guests, tourists, and respectable people get to choose their names. Inmates don't."

"But... But I'm not..."

"If you've been signed then you are an inmate." Director Bachman informed her. "And inmates don't get to demand to see the director. Not under any circumstances."

"But... But I didn't know that I was an inmate." Abby said weakly.

"That doesn't matter." Director Bachman told her. "You've just signed yourself up for punishment night."

"But..."

"I do hope that you didn't have any plans for tonight." Director Bachman told her. "Because you're now scheduled to be strapped over one of the spanking benches for quite a few smacks of the strap on your backside. Yes, demanding to see me calls for a very large number."

"But..." Abby whimpered.

It struck her that she almost did have plans. There were two girls that planned to see what kind of tongue Abby had in her mouth - only they weren't concerned with what it did in her mouth. At least punishment night would delay that.

"But... But I shouldn't be an inmate." Abby whined.

"Should, could, would doesn't matter, does it?" Director Bachman told her. "Now go to the outer office. I'll see that a schedule is made up for you. You shouldn't at loose ends. No inmate should be."

"But..."

Abby tried to use the voice, her wonderfully commanding voice, but no one was listening. Not now and not for three more weeks.


Time never stands still. It moves, even when it drags along during a miserable part of your life.


When told that she was wanted at the office, Abby leapt to obey. She politely inquired at the outer office then demurely knocked at the director's door.

"Enter."

Abby obeyed, almost by instinct.

The director wasn't alone. Abby's Aunt Molly was there along with four other familiar faces. Two of the extras were around her Aunt Molly's age while the other two were closer to Abby's. Girls that she knew.

"Ah, Abby." Director Bachman said. "It's nice to see you."

"It would be better if you were wearing something else." Gale Holland said cattily. "Something that makes you look less like a lowborn slut."

"Gale, that will be enough." Christine Holland snapped, clearly tired of her daughter's behaviour.

"Is it sir?" Abby asked, beaming under the director's praise. "Thank you for saying so sir."

"Kiss ass." Gale muttered.

"Gale." Christine chided.

Zoie Palmer looked away from her friends, from both of them. She didn't want to encourage Gale but she didn't want to look at Abby as long as Abby wore that uniform. Her eyes drifted towards her aunt, Lauren Palmer, and tried to wonder how Abby's aunt had signed Abby in. As in literally how; how was it legal for someone to do that? Abby was old enough to legally sign contracts and Molly wasn't even Abby's mother so how had Molly signed Abby in?

"I must say, you're taking this well." Molly said. "For a moment I was worried that you might have a few words of reproach for your dear aunt."

"Of course not ma'am." Abby answered, smiling. Gale made a gagging sound but Abby continued on. "You recognised that something should be done and you saw that it was done."

"She's actually quite well mannered." Christine noted. "Maybe Gale could benefit from a stay here."

"Mom, you can stop fucking around and fuck off." Gale said, raising her middle finger.

"We do have a nice, three month plan." Director Bachman noted. "It never fails to produce results."

"Well if Abby was only here for three weeks and she's that polite now, who knows what three months could do?" Christine wondered.

"Mom, stop fucking around." Gale said. "We don't have time for this. Let's just focus on how Abby looks in that 'spank me I'm a slut' skirt."

Director Bachman put some papers on his desk and slid them towards Christine.

"These look simple to fill out." Christine noted.

"I imagine that they would be." Lauren Palmer agreed, glancing towards her niece.

"And Gale would look so cute with a pageboy haircut." Christine said.

Gale glanced around the room and didn't see any sympathetic faces. Well, Zoie seemed a bit sympathetic, but she wasn't making eye contact with Gale. It dawned on the girl that maybe people weren't joking about her being admitted here.

"You can't." Gale said. "You just can't. I'm due back in college this fall."

"Oh don't worry." Christine assured her, still filling out the paperwork. "With your grades everyone will think that you're just taking a semester off to do some soul searching."

"But... But no, no one will believe that." Gale protested.

"For your sake they better." Christine told her daughter.

"But... you can't! You fucking can't!" Gale protested.

But she could. She did. Christine signed the papers and that was that. The director called some staff members and Gale was frog-marched out.

Zoie glanced around the room, looking for a place to put her eyes. She was the only one in her age group that wasn't wearing an uniform or being marched off.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Director Bachman asked over Gale's departing screams. "Did you want to want to watch her being admitted?"

"Um, no. No, that's all right." Zoie said quickly. "I'm not at all curious about that. But thank you for your kind offer."

"You're welcome I assure you." Director Bachman politely.


Soon after Gale was escorted out (well, hauled out kicking and screaming), a box was brought in.

"Do you recognise that?" Director Bachman asked Abby.

"No sir." Abby said politely. "Should I sir?"

"It contains your clothing." Director Bachman told her.

"That's why we're here." Molly revealed. "Your time is up. If you want it to be."

Abby heard the offer implied in her aunt's voice. She took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"With all due respect." Abby said, trying to sound as polite as she could. "If my original time here is up then perhaps it is best that I go. To carry the lessons that I have embrace here back into the world."

"If that's is what you want, then you should take the box." Molly said.

"Perhaps it would be best if you took your effects to a bathroom and changed there?" Director Bachman suggested. "And perhaps Zoie should accompany you? Unless, of course, she would prefer to check out a brochure of the services we offer here?"

"I think I would like to accompany Abby." Zoie muttered.

"If that is what you want." Abby told the director, hoping that this wasn't a cruel joke and she would actually be allowed to leave.

"It is." Director Bachman confirmed.


"There's a bathroom there." Zoie said, as she followed Abby.

"Oh, I can't use that one." Abby answered. "I believe that until I change out of my uniform I am still enrolled here. As such, I can't use a staff bathroom. I'll need to go to an inmate's bathroom."

"Oh." Zoie said.

She repeated that when she saw the inside of one of the communal bathrooms. Abby ignored the girl's words and began stripping out of her uniform.

"Are you going to do that right here?" Zoie asked, indicating the stalls.

"Why bother?" Abby asked. "There aren't any doors on those stalls."

"There isn't?" Zoie said, doing a double check. "Shit, there isn't any. How do you use the bathroom here?"

"My time here has helped me get around some of modestly issues." Abby said, stepping out of her uniform's panties.

Zoie glanced around, trying to find something other than Abby's nude body to look at.

"What's that?" Zoie asked, pointing to the hoses.

"Oh, that." Abby said. "I can show you what they are. In fact, since you asked I think I have to, that it's not optional anymore. Trust me, you wouldn't like it if the staff gets involved."

"Um, well..."

"The staff doesn't take no for an answer." Abby told her.

Zoie wasn't sure how it happened, but Abby (still nude) bullied her into position next to one of the sinks.

"Um, shouldn't you get dressed?" Zoie asked.

"No, not for this." Abby assured her.

"Um, shouldn't my slacks stay up?" Zoie asked, a hint of panic entering her voice.

"Not for this." Abby told her, easing Zoie's slacks down. "Don't worry, it's just going to be a quick spurt."

"Quick spurt?" Zoie squealed.

Then she squealed again as the nozzle shot home. Afterwards, Zoie dashed to a stall. Sitting there, without else to do, Zoie finally had to look at Abby. When Abby bent to put on her panties Zoie couldn't help noticing how much colour Abby had in her cheeks. She could easily guess how it got there.

Then the bathroom's door opened and a group of inmates came in. Zoie slammed her legs close as they filled the bathroom.

"Oh, someone's new." Bo sniggered.

Then they were congratulating Abby on being freed.

"If they really let you out." Jean sourly.

"So what her story?"

"Her? She's a guest on a tour." Abby revealed.

"For now. But if she doesn't wipe soon a staff member will come and see her like that. Then she might be signed in and we'll see a lot more of her in the dorm tonight."

"A bit like what happened to me." Abby chimed in. "I was basically signed in almost by accident. And speaking of me, I'm almost ready to go."

Zoie grimaced, wiped, then washed her hands. She rushed a bit so she could leave with Abby. Abby who now looked once more like Abigail Mays and not like some lower class inmate assigned to the facility.


Once they rejoined the others, the five women accompanied the director to the terrace for tea. Zoie was disconcerted by the sight of seven place setting. While the extra one was quickly removed, the fact that it had been there at all implied that Gale's fate had been a spur of the moment sort of thing. That the director was always up to enrol a new girl as an inmate at a moment's notice.

Catching sight of an inmate being transferred between building, Zoie didn't recognise her until the director pointed out that it was Gale.

"That's Gale?" Lauren asked. "I didn't recognise her! It's not the just the clothes or the hair, it's the attitude. She's completely... I can't remember the last time I've seen her that way. Maybe the scare was enough I should bring her home when we go?"

"Alas, that wouldn't be possible." Director Bachman said gently. "The contract is for three months and legally she has to stay here until then."

Zoie shivered at learning that once a girl was signed there was literally no way to get her out a moment early. When the group left, Abby was grinning but Zoie had a haunted look on her face.


A haunted look that returned when Zoie once more visited the facility, this time for a private chat with Director Bachman.

"This is a bit irregular." Director Bachman commented.

He was watching Zoie filling out the forms.

"I suppose it's all right as long as you pay for it, but you can't be the one making all the decisions. To allow you to do so would violate every principal that this facility stands for." Director Bachman continued.

Zoie paused and looked up.

"But I am the one paying for this." Zoie reminded him.

Director Bachman sighed and took one of the papers from her.

"When it comes to admitting, I see that you've only put yourself down for the shower." Director Bachman observed. Then, taking his pen, he checked off a few more boxes and handed the paper back to her. "I've added the hose down and enema to the admitting procedure. If you sign that now you will be admitted."

Zoie thought back to her last visit and the tube. That was the only non spa colonic that she could remember having and Abby had told her that it was just a little squirt. If that was practically nothing then Zoie knew she didn't want a real cleaning out. As for the hose down, it would be degrading.

Zoie's hand snapped out, signing and dating the paper before she could stop herself.

"I see." Director Bachman said, smiling. "I'll just get these filed so you can begin your life as an inmate."

"It's only for one day." Zoie reminded him quickly.

"Oh, I know that." Director Bachman smiled. "But often one day is enough to make a lasting impression. And it is truly fortunate that you chose today for your visit, what with tonight being punishment night and all."

Zoie stared at him slack jawed. Abby had told her horror stories of punishment night.

"And I'm sure we can fit you in."

"Um, no." Zoie said firmly. "I don't want that. Can we reschedule this until tomorrow?"

Director Bachman finished filing her papers and turned back to Zoie.

"This time tomorrow is when we'll let you go. One full day, as paid for." Director Bachman told her. "And I plan to use that entire period to make as deep as an impression on you as is humanly possible. Now should I call for one person to escort you to admittance or will two escorts be require?"

Zoie shrank under that question. She felt a wave of helplessness wash over her. She no longer had any control. None.

"One." Zoie whispered.

"One it is."


'Am I crazy?' Zoie bemoaned as she was escorted away, a sentiment that she kept to herself. 'Am I completely totally bonkers? But that doesn't matter, does it? It's too late to change anything now.'

Twenty four hours later Zoie was still asking herself if she was crazy, but even if she was Zoie was sane enough to refuse the director's offer of another three months at a discount rate. Crazy or not, she was leaving now.

Perhaps never to return, or perhaps...

As she climbed into a cab, wincing as she made contact with the cab's rear seat, Zoie couldn't help wondering what a week there would be like.

'But I'm not going to find out.' Zoie told herself.

As she thought those words, she believed them.

Goodgulf

[watcher123]

wWhat a lovely series, it goes from strength to strength. I particularly like the scene where Abby wanted to feel what the feel of the bench was like against her bare bottom and was then caught out. Gale especially sounds like someone who could benefit for some institute disciplin. More please.

[goodgulf]

I'm not sure if I'll be returning to this setting soon, but if you liked it then you might Arizona Vacation at http://www.spanko.net/spanking_forums/v ... 672&p=1507, A New Riding Academy at http://www.spanko.net/spanking_forums/v ... 585&p=1156, Christmas Across the County Line http://www.spanko.net/spanking_forums/v ... =130&p=299, The Excursion http://www.spanko.net/spanking_forums/v ... p=155#p155, and from the index at: http://www.spanko.net/spanking_forums/v ... t=69&p=139 there's A Model Prison, Returning To, The Magistrate, and some others that deal with the Moth to the Flame type stories.

Goodgulf

[arielpantiesdnspanked]

While there were a lot of delicious detailed parts, might you consider an addenum describing the strap spanking of Abby and how she dealt with it on Punishment Night. Please sir, I present you my a curtsey in my respect for your tremedous talent.

Ariel

[goodgulf]

I've done several punishment nights in other stories.

Arizona Vacation is a long story that is basically one long punishment night - with unexpected audience participation.
http://www.spanko.net/spanking_forums/v ... ?f=3&t=672

The Magistrate (part I) and the The Magistrate (part II) both include punishment nights - but ones featuring canes as opposed to straps.
http://www.spanko.net/Spanking_Forums_A ... 2&m=253675
http://www.spanko.net/Spanking_Forums_A ... 2&m=258447

And thank you for taking the time to comment.

Goodgulf

[johncook]

Zoie should have been locked in too.

[goodgulf]

Um, maybe, but Zoie is recovering from a head injury. If she went to punishment night on a Monday, then on Tuesday she might wake up wondering why her bottom hurt.
And where was she.
And who were all these girls.

No, I can't see her being a suitable inmate for the facility. At least not until she's fully recovered.

Goodgulf

[goodgulf]

Opps... These stories are running together a bit in mind. Yes, Zoie is a good choice for admittance. I'm sure that she'll spend a long time there.

Goodgulf