Emily Abroad... 20 (03/01) - Happy New Year one & all.

[imanewb]

She felt like she’d been kicked in the gut, a pressure cooker waiting to explode as those two little words repeated endlessly through her thoughts as she despondently watched him stroll away from the galley area without a care in the world.

Pressure building, blackness pressed at the edges of her vision. ‘Worth it…” the words drowned out the shocked gasps and excited whispers as she stiffly trudged her way back towards her seat, oblivious to the everything and everyone around her as she passed through the slowly waking main cabin.

The jeers and taunts edged their way into her consciousness as familiar faces emerged from the seats to crowd around her. ‘Worth… it…’ echoing louder and louder, pulse getting faster with every step as she tried to force her way through. She paused and turned, surrounded by the baying crowd. Hands reached towards her, prodding, poking, grabbing… stopping her from escaping. She thrashed and screamed, desperate to get away, to stop this from happening again as they dragged her to the floor.

Straps appeared, binding her wrists, as the witch led the boy forward, bringing him closer until they knelt before her. Her eyes widened and her mouth ran dry as hands pulled her legs wide apart, cool dampness spread over her as he offered up an old-fashioned razor, “Kiss it,” Betty’s happy voice sounded strange coming from his lips, “and hold still… you don’t want me to slip.p.p.p”

The blade glinted in the sunlight as it drew closer to her kitty, tears fell as she froze in fear as the crowd chanted and cheered with every swipe, with every hint of hair that was removed until she was bald as the day she was born, truly resembling a giant baby.

One hand was released and dropped in her lap. “Do it slut! You know you want to!” the boy’s lips moved to Betty’s words again, “You know what you have to do…”

He looked on, eyes intense and focussed below her waist as she prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. It didn’t happen, of course, it never did. His disgust became clear when her hand started to move. He glanced away, eyes flicking briefly back to hers before reaching out, pressing a dollar over her still damp slit. “Worth it.” he sneered dismissively, turning away from the spectacle that held no more interest for him whatsoever.

Not trusting her voice, she stared daggers at him – willing him to burn on the spot. Burn with the intensity of the shame she felt performing like that as he stole the last of her self-worth. She fought to get free from the grasping hands anew, she’d give him ‘worth it’ when she got out of here, she’d go down there and scratch out his eyes, snap off his dick, do something to make him feel even a fraction of what they’d put her through.

She barely noticed the woman approach as hands clamped down on her. “One, thank you sir,” the response came automatically when the sting registered, the mumbled words and silent tears thrilled the witch, who smiled viciously as she pulled her hand back to deliver another slap to her inner thigh. Hard judgemental eyes roved over her body, her marker etching her verdict over sensitive skin between the slaps, permanently identifying her body’s flaws. The crowd roared its approval, echoing every cutting comment, “Whore, Slut, Dirty baby girl…”

“Oh, it’s like that is it,” the dragon swooped in pushing the witch aside, “a little girl who likes to put on a show. Take her back and strap her in,” she ordered the crowd, “don’t forget the hood, this one’s a biter!”

She was lifted high in the air, limbs spread exposing every secret she once had. Her captors dragged her back to the lounge and dropped her on the bar. Straps crossed her arms, legs, chest… she wasn’t going anywhere. The last thing she saw before the soft material of the hood slipped over her head, blocking out her view and muffling her screams, was a group of giggling flight attendants moving towards her, rubber gloves and scrubbing brushes in hand.

Emily Jane jerked awake biting back a scream. She was rigid with terror and drenched in sweat, wrapped up tightly in the grip of her blankets and safety belts she clawed at her neck, struggling to breathe in her mounting panic as she fought her way free of her bindings. She shuddered at the rapidly fading memory of her latest nightmare, shaken by its intensity but relieved it was ‘only’ a dream.

Her heart slowly calmed as she focussed on her breathing and the engine’s drone, willing the panic to pass. Biting her lip, she glanced around hoping nobody had witnessed her night terror, dreading the pitying or knowing glances she expected to see. For once, however, luck was on her side - the cabin was quiet, only the occasional snore and rumble of her stomach disturbed the stillness. She sighed; trays of food lay on her suite’s table, doubtlessly cold, but it was better than going hungry… or having a repeat of her last food finding foray.

She winced as her butt landed on the plus leather seat ready to eat. The thin, damp material of the pyjamas she’d found she was unexpectedly wearing offered little protection to her sensitive rear end. She needed a shower in the worst way, but the thought of emerging from her luxurious little bubble was almost enough to renew her panic attack. No that, she thought, and anything else that involved going back out there would have to wait until they’d landed, if she never saw any of these people again it’d be too soon.

No sooner had she thought this than a sharp rap on the screen door preceded the ‘dragon lady’ herself entering unbidden, shattering her plans to remain hidden. Emily backed away from the door, landing in a tangled mess on the bed. She tucked herself in the corner as the woman scanned the area, trembling as a million panicked thoughts rushed through her mind.

Apparently satisfied, the woman tossed a small bundle at Emily’s feet, drew in a deep breath and stood there impatiently, waiting for Emily to do what? She sighed, looking at Emily directly for the first time since entering the suite, “You should get dressed,” she said, nodding at the bundle by Emily’s feet, “we’re landing in an hour, go, get ready.”

Emily hesitated until the woman turned away from her to collect the now empty food trays, before stumbling to her feet. She bit her lip nervously, tuning out the woman’s commentary as she tried to summon the courage to strip off the damp pyjamas and slip on those wonderful, body covering clothes. To be completely covered for the first time in who knew how many hours.

Glancing once more at the woman going about her business, Emily bit the bullet and all but ripped off the sticky garments from her body. Reaching into the pile, she picked up the silky high-cut briefs, staring at them before pressing them to her cheek, marvelling at how soft they felt whilst wondering how they’d feel against her sore posterior.

“…did the best we can, hope they fit…” the woman was saying as she turned, the indignant huff passing her lips drawing Emily’s eyes up to her stern face. Emily froze statue still, her whole body flushed as she pictured what this must look like to the older woman. Tears fell as she waited for the rebuke she was certain was coming her way.

“The bathroom…” the woman muttered, “for pity’s sake… you change in the bathroom…”

“Stop!” the commanding tone halted Emily before she could step into the aisle. She’d grabbed the bundle of clothes and rushed for the door unthinking, desperate to avoid the punishment she feared was coming her way, “just get dressed already…”

Emily Jane looked down mind whirling, had she really been about to run out into the aisle bare butt naked? She shook as she realised that yes, yes she was about to do just that. Why, she wondered, would she do that to herself?

Distracted by her thoughts, she dressed gratefully. Not caring, for once, that she remained under the older woman’s scrutiny, only panicking once, and only then until the pantyhose snugged tight, holding the slightly too large panties in place.

“It’s all clean,” the woman recited as Emily dressed, “a nice lady in gave up her daughter’s tights, but the rest came from the cabin crew…”

She rebuilt her emotional armour with each layer as it went on, running her hands appreciatively over the collection of donated garments. A silky cream shirt that fell just under her butt replaced that stupid pink T-shirt, a pleated black skirt ended at her knees, topped with a fine wine-red sweater. She felt like a million dollars!

“Not bad,” the woman observed, “Now, you didn’t hear this from me,” she added with a conspiratorial wink, “but you might want to take a look at in your bag… once I’ve left!”

Emily sat in the empty suite as the plane prepared to land, smiling as she read the note again. She’d handed the phone to the flight attendant with a cheery ‘found this’, as she swept through the cabin making sure everyone had their seats upright and everything properly stowed.

Worth it, she’d thought, as every picture, video and sound file had permanently disappeared from the phone and its cloud backup. Worth it indeed.

[imanewb]

Emily Jane walked through the airport with a bounce in her step. She’d been the last passenger off the plane, airline policy for unaccompanied minors apparently – as was the bubbly escort she’d been palmed off on, so managed to avoid any awkward encounters. The flight had been an ordeal, in more ways than one, but she couldn’t help but feel good now and, if she was honest, more than a little bit smug.

She’d done it; got away from everyone for her fresh start and, whether he knew it yet, had taught an insufferable little bastard an important life lesson. She was a little disappointed she wouldn’t get to see his face when he realised what’d been done but maybe, she conceded, that was for the best… there was no telling how he might react, and if he knew she was responsible, ooh boy…

Not even the long wait in the baggage hall for their flight’s bags to start appearing managed to wipe the smile from her face. It only took a few nervous glances at the other passengers for her to realise they weren’t paying her any attention, perhaps they were too focussed on finding their bags, or maybe they simply didn’t recognise her in her fancy new outfit. Whatever, she thought, as she chatted amiably with her escort, she was just happy they were leaving her alone.

The conveyor eventually kicked into motion as luggage started to appear from the bowels of the Earth. The crowd starting to thin as bags were collected, just one or two people at first, then more and more until only a few stragglers remained. Her smile faded in time with her excitement, until a dour looking Emily Jane stood alone with her escort, the belt having ground to a halt, a solitary bag sitting uncollected having completed several laps.

“Well,” the escort spoke for the first time in several minutes, prodding Emily Jane into motion, “perhaps your bags ended up on the wrong belt, it happens… either way, it’s not the end of the world, right?”

Emily looked at her forlornly, it might not be the end of the world as far as she was concerned, but it was a major hiccup in her plans – nice as these clothes were, she hoped they wouldn’t be all she had to wear until she got her uniform.

“Nada,” her guide continued as they strolled amongst the luggage belts, “looks like they’ve gone for a walk… but hey, look on the bright side, they’ll comp you for some new gear to tide you over, and you’ll need a bigger bag for everything when your stuff eventually catches up with you. But for now,” she continued with a massive eyeroll, “you have some forms to fill in… fun!”

For the record, Emily Jane did not think the forms were fun. And by the time she’d finished filling in the fifth one (a separate form for each bag? Really?) her escort was getting antsy too. By the time they reached customs & immigration, the hall was practically deserted, her lack of luggage raised a few eyebrows until the paperwork was examined, she was soon passed through with a few sympathetic glances.
A few scant minutes later Emily Jane stood in her first foreign country, looking at a couple of curious teens and a stern-faced woman who’d been sent to collect her.

“You’re late, not an auspicious start,” the woman announced officiously, while she examined the girl in front of her, “I am your program coordinator, my name is Ms. Sinclair, you may call me Ms. Sinclair, or Ma’am now…” she paused as her eyebrows pinched in confusion, “where are your belongings?”

It wasn’t the friendliest of greetings, and so very formal, not at all like the teachers back at her middle school. Nevertheless, Emily Jane could relate, she didn’t like being kept waiting either.

“This is it,” she said, holding up her carry on, “for now, they’ve lost everything else so, yeah, I’ll need to do some shop…”

“Very well,” the coordinator waved her hand interrupting Emily Jane’s explanation, “we shall see what can be arranged. I can complete the formalities in the car but, for now, let us make haste.”

Ms. Sinclair introduced the teens as Mr. & Miss. Richards – Alex and Amy as she’d later find out, as they walked through the parking garage towards a large boxy vehicle.

“Stop gawking Ms. Chambers,” Ms. Sinclair complained when she froze in front of the sliding door, “it’s most unbecoming.” Unbecoming or not, Emily Jane couldn’t help it. Car was far too small a word for what she’d was seeing. Two rows of what she could only think of as sofas were arranged around a tastefully lit dark wooden table.

A countertop ran along the rear partition with a screen larger than the one she had in her living room sitting on it, image frozen on an introduction screen displaying a ‘Welcome to Rosemount Academy’ in a curly font she didn’t recognise.

“Come along now,” Ms. Sinclair chided, as Amy ‘helped’ her climb into the back of the van, “be seated, we have a fair amount to go through, with regrettably little time until we arrive, drinks,” she continued without looking up, “please Mr. Richards.”

A bottle of chilled water was pressed into Emily’s hand as she as the coordinator continued to talk. Non-stop. For what felt like hours to the excited girl. She was handed a diary that “had to be completed no less than twice weekly”; a fancy tablet that would apparently “link only to the school’s network, facilitating rapid transition between settings by obviating the need to repeatedly exchange materials” (whatever that meant); and, finally, a large bag emblazoned with the same crest shown on the screen containing a complete uniform.

“If there are no questions so far,” Ms. Sinclair concluded, “then I suggest we play the headmaster’s welcome message after which you should familiarise yourself with the documents; rules, policies and such, which you will find on your tablet’s home screen.”

No questions Emily thought? She only had, like a million of them, but the woman’s tone made it clear that she wasn’t actually offering the opportunity for them to be asked. No, as soon as her lips pressed together, the lights dimmed and the screen sprung into life.

“Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life…” The gravelly voice droned on espousing the ‘exciting opportunity’ being presented only to a very select few at their ‘prestigious non-traditional educational establishment’, one that employed a ‘holistic approach to the development of young minds’ centred around an ethos of ‘personal responsibility and peer mentoring’.

Jesus, Emily Jane scoffed quietly to herself, trying to get past the guy’s accent and meaningless, to her, jargonish. Do they all, she wondered, talk like that or is it just a ‘teacher thing’?

“No time like the present,” the headmaster’s smiling face hadn’t even finished fading from the screen before Ms. Sinclair was talking, again, “we have about twenty minutes until you have to be ready, sufficient I’d wager to garner an overview of the program requirements and expectations. You may begin.”

“Read girl,” Ms. Sinclair sighed, when Emily stared at her at her uncomprehending, “quietly, you’ll have plenty of time for chatter later, for now learn what it means to be a Rosemount girl.”

Emily Jane blushed under the woman’s stern gaze (doesn’t she ever smile?), fiddling with her tablet until the screen lit up. It took her a couple of minutes, but she was soon following the instructions to secure and personalise the device – something that had to be completed before it’d let her access any of its contents.

“It’s time, ladies and gentlemen,” Ms Sinclair suddenly announced, drawing Emily’s attention away from the tablet and the ‘pressing issue’ of choosing a lock screen background image. Just how much time had she wasted, she wondered, making her tablet look pretty instead of getting on with what she was supposed to have been doing?

She stopped wondering a few moments later, staring wide-eyed as the teens pulled out little travel cases and, without missing a beat in their conversation, nonchalantly started pulling off their clothes.

She watched in stunned silence, waiting for anybody to say something to make this make sense, as they stood. They’d soon stripped down to their underwear, stacking their carefully folded garments on the seats behind them. Emily let out a little ‘eep’ sound when Amy’s hand drifted towards her bra clasp, incredulous that she looked like she was about to…

Three heads turned as one, the inscrutable expression fixed on Ms. Sinclair’s face didn’t waver as she made a ‘get on with it’ motion with her hand before turning disinterested back to her tablet, the teens just looked on curiously. Nobody moved, Amy's hand hovered behind her back while Emily sat frozen to the spot, bordering on the edge of panic.

Surely they couldn’t mean for her to strip off here, in front of these almost complete strangers? Why on Earth would they want her to do something like that?? Concern flashed across the older girl’s face as Emily began to hyperventilate, she closed the distance between them, dropping into the seat to wrap Emily in a tight hug.

“You’re coddling her,” Alex said flatly as he pulled on a clean pair of navy boxers, “c’mon already, don’t get yourself in trouble for her…”

His voice trailed off as he worked the buttons a crisp white shirt. Emily tried not to look, her mind desperately wanting to flee while her eyes watched spellbound, a mixture of excitement and horror holding her in place as Alex finished dressing himself.
“Don’t say,” he said with a resigned air as he reached in and unhooked Amy’s bra, “that I never do anything for you sis.”

“And you,” he said turning to Emily, “need to put your bloody uniform on, we haven’t got all day you know!”

Now that got a reaction from Emily. Her mind whirled as she freaked out, Amy was his sister, and he was what? Undressing her? And he wanted her to do the same? Her panic spiked when he pulled Amy away from her.

“You will keep your hands to yourself Mr. Richards,” Ms Sinclair finally interjected, “Miss Richards, get dressed. She can change herself or,” she continued ominously, “the proctors can do it for her when we arrive.”

[imanewb]

“Come on Emily Jane,” Amy wheedled as she finished tucking her polo shirt into her skirt’s hem, “you don’t want to get in to trouble do you?”

"What’s the problem,” Alex asked at the same time, patting her leg encouragingly, “you ain’t got anything we haven’t seen before…”

Emily Jane flinched back from his hand, shaking her head numbly. No, she thought, she didn’t want any trouble, but she couldn’t face undressing in front of these near strangers. She was barely coping with what had happened back on the plane, only keeping a lid on her emotions from the knowledge that she’d never see those people again but here, knowing that she’d probably be seeing the siblings frequently over the next six months… or worse, she gulped back a gasp at the unwelcome thought, every day if they were from her host family, no, that would be too much.

“Fine,” he dragged out, “I’ll turn my back, see, not even looking…”

“Mr. Richards!” Ms. Sinclair snapped, “If you can’t be civil, be silent.”

Amy rolled her eyes at her brother, knowing full well he’d said something stupid, loud enough for Ms. S to hear him too… the idiot. She’d have to ask him what it was later when they found out how much trouble he was in but, for now, she was just glad his voice hadn’t carried to the clearly frightened younger girl.

“Yeah, ignore him,” she said, leaning into Emily Jane conspiratorially, “he’s as dense as lead at times. But he’s not wrong, you really don’t want the proctors ‘helping you’ when we get there… Can you manage, or do you need a hand?”

Decision eventually made, Emily Jane took a deep breath and looked away, unwilling to watch Amy watching her. “One step at a time,” she mumbled to herself, adrenalin surging as she reached for the first button on her shirt. Her shaking hands just wouldn’t cooperate properly, sweaty fingers repeatedly slipped from the brass button, leaving it still stubbornly fastened after a couple of minutes that’d felt like hours to the nervous girl. She wanted to scream out her frustration, she’d been doing this for herself for years, yet here she was about to be reduced to asking someone help her undress.

“I n…n…need,” Emily Jane stuttered out, “C…can y…you…” She just looked at the slightly older girl pleadingly, unable to finish the sentence.

Casting a nervous glance at Ms. Sinclair, Alex chuckled ruefully to himself, cursing his luck as he listened to the girls. The school, he figured, was going to eat the new kid alive… He couldn't imagine what this wallflower had done to deserve being sent here... She simply didn't seem to be the type, or maybe, he mused she was still in shock. Not that he’d take any pleasure from watching her crash and burn, he actually felt quite sorry for her… it just wasn’t his problem to fix.

But his sister. She was busy making it his problem. She’d taken a liking to the girl for some reason, was getting invested in her. At this rate she’d be taking the girl home and asking if they could keep her for Christmas!

Emily Jane wouldn’t be the first stray his sister had adopted nor, he grumbled, would she be the last… merely the biggest… and he, he’d just have to go along with it, help keep his sister happy or suffer the consequences.

Emily Jane held her breath, shuddering with every movement of Amy’s fingers as she worked her way down from her neck to her navel, her blush slowly spreading as the gap widened and the edges of her nearly non-existent breasts peeked out. Amy paused, frowning as her eyes flicked between Emily’s face and her skirt… Emily Jane flinched back in the seat, it was bad enough that she’d let the girl help with the shirt’s buttons, but now she’d have to be an active participant in her own stripping.

Casting a nervous glance to Alex and Ms. Sinclair she crossed her arms over her chest, pulling the shirt back together as she rose on trembling legs. Fear rising with the bile in her stomach as the memories of the last time a girl had stripped her rose unbidden. A soft moan passed her lips as Amy knelt, swiftly snapped the skirt’s clasp and worked the material downwards methodically, slowly baring everything a good girl kept secret.

Amy’s tugging stopped, the skirt and everything else bunched around Emily’s thighs. Amy’s ragged exhale blew warm air over her butt. Emily Jane’s face paled, her whole body shaking as she realised what the other girl must be staring at, what she'd soon see. She couldn’t look, didn’t want to know what she was making of the artwork they’d so kindly daubed over her.

“Henna?” Amy enquired breathily.

Emily Jane couldn’t find her voice, could barely nod her head in response.

Shaking hands pressed into her hips, turning her, baring the other half of the design to the curious girl’s eyes.

“Oh, umm... Ms. Sinclair…” Amy’s voice sounded loud in Emily’s ears, “umm…”

Amy could feel the older woman's judgemental gaze run over her exposed skin as she shuddered with the memory of her last inspection. A lifted eyebrow the was only sign the woman had noticed the ring she now wore, the twirl of a finger commanding her to reveal the rest of the 'artwork'.
Emily Jane dreaded what might come next, feared she'd end up blubbering like a baby if she was ordered bend over...

“Pretty,” the woman calmly announced, as if it were perfectly normal for a fourteen year old to have a jewel encrusted train mounted on a ring dangling between her legs, “but it'll have to go, and that looks like it should be gone in a few weeks… one demerit a week until it is.”

Emily Jane didn’t like the way both teens drew in their breath at that announcement, didn’t understand just what the proclamation would mean and, right then, didn’t really care. No, all she wanted to do was get this over with, wrap herself in the armour of her new school uniform and never take it off again.

‘Henna?’ Alex thought, intensely curious, his legs twitching as he fought the urge to turn around – kinda cool but why risk it knowing she was coming here? He was shocked out of his musing moments later by a piercing cry. Giving up on any pretence of appearing gentlemanly, he whipped round ready for trouble.

Emily Jane shrieked again when she saw the boy spin round, she lifted one hand from her crotch to cover her chest as she backed into the soft leather seat, face frantically looking between his sister and the scrap of fabric she held in front of her.

“Umm, Ms. Sinclair, we have another problem,” Amy announced entirely redundantly; the administrator was already climbing out of her seat, face screwed up in annoyance as she glanced between the girls.

“It, err, doesn’t fit,” Amy continued, responding to the unspoken command - Anyone with eyes could see the shirt she held up was at best half the size it needed to be, “I was trying to help, you know, explain the uniform policy and, well, that...” she finished weakly, pointing at the girl curled up in a ball atop the leather seat, two hands futilely trying to hide three parts of her body.

Amy shot her brother a concerned glance when the administrator wordlessly snatched the too small shirt, returned to her seat and started furiously tapping away on her tablet.

A moment passed, and another before she looked up again, a mote of confusion passing across her face.

“Aren’t,” she asked seemingly randomly, “personal responsibility and peer support key tenets of the Rosemount philosophy?” She waited for the teens wary glances to return to her, giving their answer with a quick bob of the head before she continued in a chilly tone, “And uniform compliance remains a matter delegated to the student council?”

“So,” she continued in much the same tone following another pair of shallow nods, “can either of you explain why you’re standing there doing nothing to resolve the issue when something has very clearly gone awry with Miss Chambers uniform?”

The siblings recognising the rhetorical question for the thinly disguised order it truly was, looked at each other, each hoping desperately the other might have some idea as the only adult present dismissed them and returned to stabbing at her tablet.

“We can’t let her walk round like that…” Amy was the first to break the awkward silence.

Well, they could, he thought, for a millisecond or two… until his sister’s eyes hardened. Yeah, she knew him far too well and she wasn’t the least bit impressed by that idea.

“OK…” he said slowly, making it up as he went along, “you’re about her size, a bit bigger maybe… so if we can get her inside… yeah, maybe, that might work… look,” he said, peeling off his blazer with a glint in his eye, “I have a cunning plan…”

It was, Amy thought, possibly his worst ever impression of that Bald Derek, or whatever, guy from the old British sitcom he loved... but the plan, if you could call it that, might actually work.

“Emily… Emily Jane!” Amy shouted, giving up on the gently, gently approach when it failed to get a response, “Look at me now!”

Emily Jane’s head snapped round to her newest tormentor. It was, she thought sullenly, just like the last time… they'd acted all friendly, pretended to be friendly only to trick out of her clothes, mock & humiliate her… at least they hadn’t touched her, yet… but, Emily Jane realised - flinching back towards her seat, it looked like that might be about to change.

“Good, now listen to me,” Amy continued more softly, not liking the look in the girl’s eyes or the way she'd jumped, “I know you’re scared, but we have an idea… if it works, and we think it will,” she added hurriedly, “you won’t get in any more trouble, you’d like that, right?”

Something in the girl’s eyes told Emily Jane that she wasn’t going to like this plan any better than walking around in the nude, but what choice did she have? Amy’d reminded her about the uniform rule while stripping her… ‘only items from the approved uniform list may be worn on campus’. She was trapped, and they all knew it, it was go along with whatever scheme these two had cooked up, or head out naked. Some choice… it's not like she had anywhere to go, if they'd even let her leave... and it was unlikely they’d let her hide here in the car forever.

Forcing a reassuring smile onto her face, Amy continued, voice soft and soothing, “The thing is… the rule says only approved uniform, right… they don’t say it has to be the whole uniform.”

Emily Jane squared her shoulders and raised her chin, trying to ignore the way her stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies and one particularly vicious wasp as that statement sunk in. Like a bull in the ring, her eyes tracked the movement of Alex’s blazer as he swung it back and forth, and Amy’s meaning became all too clear.

Amy left that hanging a moment, rushing ahead when she saw Emily glancing at her brother’s blazer, “Yeah, so if you wear that,” she said, nodding at it as if the Emily didn’t already know what she was talking about, “you’ll be covered, mostly… more than you are at the moment anyway. We can go inside while the staff sort out this little mishap…”

Emily Jane closed her eyes for her second, resigned and trying to hold on to her composure. She held out her hand for the blazer, stood and slipped it on.

The silk lining felt strange against her bare skin, or maybe she was just hypersensitive right now. That didn’t seem important though. She was only interested in what it covered, or not, as the case might be. It was long on her, which was good, it fell below her butt, if only just… she’d have to be very careful sitting anywhere, and definitely wouldn’t be able to bend over if she wanted to avoid flashing anyone.

But yeah, it was long on her, which was bad… the deep vee of the neckline dropped dangerously low, exposing far more than she was comfortable with. Looking down, Emily almost burst into tears when she saw what little cleavage she had was out for anyone who cared to look to see.

Emily Jane tried to put a brave face on it, not wanting to think how long she might have to walk around like this thanks to some cockamamie rule that the school, apparently, wouldn’t bend on in even these direst of circumstances. “Thanks,” she stuttered out with a sniff, “beats going to class bare arsed I guess… how long…”

She didn’t get to finish her questions, the siblings interrupted her simultaneously, again…

“Class? Are you nucking futs????” Amy all but yelled in her face, “you’ll be coming to my dorm to borrow some clothes!”

“Now that I’d pay to see…” Alex joked, “but you already gave it away for free!”

Alex’s snide comment threw Emily Jane back into a wild panic… OMG, she thought, they knew, she didn’t know how but they knew… They had to know, why else would he…

She looked between them, angry, hurt and confused… the look on his face didn’t match his harsh words. Amy snorted, and then they were both laughing, smiling at her. She realised he’d been joking, probably trying to break the tension but his comment had cut a little too close to the bone. She was on the verge of a complete breakdown when Amy’s words finally registered. Emily Jane crashed into the girl hugging her for all her worth, happy tears in her eyes… the promise of clothes chasing most of those butterflies from her stomach, life was looking up again.

[imanewb]

Sunlight flooded through the van’s open door, it’s warm rays cascading over Emily Jane’s exposed skin as she stood frozen, staring out over the school’s vast parking lot. Her fingers gripped the metal frame so tightly she was sure she was denting the metal as her whole-body shook, refusing to step out of the relative safety the van’s four, now three, walls provided her. Ms. Sinclair had brushed past her with an impatient huff some time ago, only Alex and Amy remained cajoling & trying to encourage her to move forward and get it over with. Their reasoning was sound, she knew, the sooner she moved, the sooner she'd be able to get dressed again but their words had disappeared into a background buzz as soon as she looked out into that wide, open space. She knew, just knew, the moment she stepped foot onto the cracked concrete her nightmare would become real again.

She leant against the side of the van, pressed her cheek against the cool metal and closed her eyes willing herself for the millionth time to wake up safe and warm in her own bed. Emily Jane fell backwards, fighting back the scream that rose when cold hands wrapped around her upper arm, her eyes shooting wide open as the grip tightened easily holding her limp body aloft. She looked first at the hand around her arm, tracing it back to a face set with a face set in a bland expression. An older teen boy, almost a man really, stood holding her flanked by two others, studying her like they would an insect under a microscope. Shivers ran up and down her already chilled skin as their gazes passed over her in silent judgement.

Emily Jane felt the weight of the world land on her shoulders. She was pulled forward, the air feeling thinner and thinner as her breath became increasingly ragged, heart leaping into her throat at the sound of the van door slamming shut behind her. She found them standing beside the van, Amy's eyes pinched tight in anger, Alex's face hard with determination, his arms folded across his chest.

“Richardses,” the man boy holding her said, jumping in when Amy opened her mouth to say something, “father’s not happy with you two or,” he continued, drawing a whimper from Emily Jane as he shook her, “with this.”

"You don't need to do this," Amy murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, "she's new, doesn't know... it's not her fault, the uniform didn't..." Her voice trailed off at whatever she saw in the older boy's eyes.

Emily Jane could see his jaw lock. She didn't know him, obviously, but she knew the type... the jock, the big man on campus surrounded by his goons. He wouldn’t like being challenged like that, he was definitely someone to be wary of.

“I’m getting tired of your mouth,” he addressed Amy with soft menace, his eyes locked on her brother, “you don’t learn do you girl. I’m thinking you need another lesson… or, whaddya say, for old times’ sake?”

“Don’t do it Al,” Amy said, wrapping her hand around her brother’s wrist and pulling him back, “you know it’s what he wants…”

"Sorry kiddo," Alex mumbled dejectedly, moving stiffly towards her, "I'll make it up to you, I swear, but if it's you or Amy, it's got to be you..." Emily Jane knew something was wrong, more wrong than ever that is, when the jerkoff tightened his grip and waved Alex forward.

She froze, went still as a statue, eyes locked and silently pleading as Alex reached her, grasped the blazer he'd leant her only a short while ago and carefully stripped it from her body. Emily Jane's breath hitched, her mind racing as the only thing protecting her modesty was stripped from her by a boy who wouldn’t meet her eyes. The fear, the humiliation, the anger, the pain, the humiliation, the pain... It all came flooding back in a rush as she started feebly struggling against the boy’s hold.

"Much better," the boy crooned, eyes never leaving Alex, "but too slow, weekend KP... let's go guys."

Emily Jane was manhandled, stumbling and tripping as her legs refused to support her as they all but dragged her across the parking lot in complete silence. Panting, body flushed with exertion, she’d tried and failed to break free from the iron grip on her wrist as her panic grew more and more intense with each of her captor’s silent steps.

They drew closer to an enormous ivy-covered building, pausing before the intricately carved dark wooden doors, as she prayed someone would step outside and rescue her, dreading anyone appearing and seeing her in her so exposed.

"So, what's it going to be?" he asked from nowhere, turning her around and forcing her to look at him. "You going to be a good little girl, or you going to make me drag you round like some kind of idiot?"

“P..p…puhleeease,” Emily stuttered out, held up only by the boys hands, “w.. wh…why…”

With a derisive shake of his head he let go, a flash of surprise on his face there and gone again when Emily Jane collapsed at his feet, curling up into ball like a wounded animal. Emily began slowly rocking, holding herself tightly for comfort rather than in any effort to protect her modesty, her mouth open in a silent scream.

“Get up!” the boy demanded, nudging her with his foot when she didn’t respond. “I said, get up!” he yelled at her, pulling her to her knees by her hair. She didn’t stay there for long, no sooner had he released her she fell forwards, face smashing unprotected into the polished marble step. For Emily Jane, everything went mercifully black.

Sounds slowly edged their way into Emily Jane’s consciousness, soft footsteps and hushed voices, an incessant beeping that grew more rapid as her eyes fluttered and the bright light brushed agonisingly over her retinas. Cold, she was so cold, she should do something about that, she knew, but what? Everything felt numb, even the throbbing between her eyes was nothing more than a dull pressure, and getting duller as the darkness wrapped itself around her mind.

"And how are you feeling young lady?" a gentle voice probed, sounding like it was coming from a million miles away.

Emily Jane’s voice was soft as she started slowly chanting, not responding to the man’s voice, “…two… three… four… Emmy is our little whore…”

The man was startled when her wrist jerked to a halt, her hand stopped by the restraint centimetres from his crotch while the girl continued to chant, “…five… six… seven… eight… she shows the boys how to masturbate…”

He looked on stunned as her hand made an unmistakeable motion, silent tears dripping from her chin as her voice grew louder, “…nine and ten… did each once, then all again…”

Emily Jane's chant started over, stopping mid-word when the man took a step backwards, his eyes wide and unblinking as he watched her hand drop limply by her side.

Emily Jane's eyes closed, flying open again seconds later at the incredible pain slashing through her head. Her hand jerked to a stop with the clank of metal chains as she tried to raise it towards her face. She groaned at the all-consuming pain, the world span and her stomach lurched as she lifted her head noticing a tall man in a doctor's coat staring at her wide eyed from a couple of yards away.

He watched her face screw up in pain realising something was different… it was… odd. And he didn’t like odd. Her face paled as her throat started working furiously swallowing… he moved automatically, this was something he recognised, something he knew he could help with. The bed tilted in the nick of time as his patient spewed bile and chunks of carrot. At least, he thought, his patient wasn’t going to aspirate the mixture and asphyxiate as a vile odour filled the room.

Emily Jane felt the soggy sheet being pulled from her body, watched the doctor through tear blurred eyes as he gently wiped her face clean. She flinched as the cloth brushed over her nose, lifting her chest as she tried to move her head backwards away from the source of pain.

“Just relax,” he said with a smile, his hand pressing her back down again, fingers closing round her breast, “I know it hurts, but that’s what happens when you headbutt solid rock…” His voice trailed off as he twisted round to examine the monitor, its steady beeping suddenly running machine gun fast… and faster… and faster…

Emily Jane could only squeak indignantly as the doctor started twisting her nipple, muttering something about dodgy connections. Her face and chest burning bright crimson by the time he turned around, ready to check another lead. He looked down and froze, struggling to understand, that wasn’t the sensor… he’d been twisting… was… his eyes lifted to meet the girl’s ready to explain, to apologise, to say something but found his mouth suddenly too dry.

“Dr. Carter?” a women’s interrupted the silent stare off between patient and doctor, “I’ve got her admission forms, is something wrong?”

Wrong? Emily Jane thought, wrong? He was standing there pawing at her chest, twisting her nipple, gawping like a goldfish in his obvious excitement.

“Getthispervertshandsoffme!” she screamed in the direction of the nurse, snapping the doctor out of his momentary immobility. He snapped his hand away as if just realising what he’d been holding, an angry flush crossing his own cheeks, pervert indeed, couldn’t she see it was an innocent mistake?

Emily Jane could feel her nipple throbbing in time with her face when the doctor finally released his grip. Her restraints clanked again as she tried to move her hands to rub her sensitive nubs.

The nurse looked anxiously between them, the obviously distressed girl and the embarrassed doctor she’d worked with the last twelve years. Sure, something had obviously happened, she’d seen his hand fly back as if he’d been slapped - but she just couldn’t believe he’d ever inappropriately touch a patient…

“So,” the nurse said turning away from Emily Jane, “Who’s going to tell me what happened? Doc?”

Emily Jane watched on in horror as the nurse listened to the doctor, not understanding half of what was being said. The nurse’s face gradually splitting into a radiant smile telling her more than any words could that he’d got away with it. Her heart sank, the emptiness inside opening to swallow her whole. It was just like the last time, and every time before that…

“Well, just a little accident, then,” the nurse announced winking conspiratorially at Emily Jane, “silly man thought he was adjusting one of the leads off the ECG, now don’t you want to apologise for calling him names…”

The nurse’s smile froze as Emily’s eyes hardened then turned away from her. “or,” she continued somewhat flustered by the girl’s reaction, “we’ll have to write you up, and you know what that means.”

Emily Jane didn’t know what that meant, nor did she particularly care at that moment in time as the numbness pulled her down. What was the point, there was nothing she could do from stopping these people from doing whatever they wanted.

[imanewb]

“Well I don’t think we’ll be needing these anymore,” Doctor Carter observed, releasing the restraints from around Emily’s body, “now that the sedative's working... you gave me quite the scare I can tell you, thrashing around like that, but… hey where do you think you’re going?”

His voice washed over Emily Jane, the backing track to the voices in her head – yet another person who couldn’t be trusted, another person who enjoyed her misery… there was no hope, her heaven had turned into hell and now, she thought, she’d have to suffer through it unless… no, she couldn’t do that, wouldn’t give in to the temptation to take the easy way out, and it would be easy… a few pills, some booze, the slice of a blade, she’d researched different methods after everything they'd done to her at the party, the knowledge of what it would do to her dad the only thing that held her back…

“Someone wanted to see me,” she said lifelessly, resignation pressing down on her with all the weight of a three hundred pound gorilla as she responded to the doctor’s question, “I should go.”

The look that passed between the doctor and his nurse went unobserved as she felt her body moving, walking towards the door without her having told it to do so. She felt like a passenger in her own body, an observer looking down on a naked girl walking out into the corridor before anyone could catch her.

“They let you out then,” a shadow loomed over Emily Jane, remembered fear sending adrenalin surging through her body causing her to tremble, the urge to run squashed only by the void within, “let’s go.”

She was aware of the cool air blowing across her exposed skin, the stares and whispers that followed in her wake, but she was a robot mindlessly following in her master’s footsteps. Her body marching steadily onwards while her mind recoiled from every ugly look, every overheard comment. Her mind reeling at the strangeness as she saw everything, was aware of every single feeling but remained trapped inside this shell, this accepting front led by the voices from the darkness.

“…here,” her escort stopped in front of an unremarkable door, his hands dragging her to a stop when her feet kept moving forwards, “look, I shouldn’t say this, but I feel kinda bad about your face… make things easy on yourself, go… or,” he continued angrily when the door opened and Emily Jane brushed past him into the space beyond, “on your own head be it.”

Emily Jane noticed the man in passing as she walked in, dwarfed by the conference table he sat behind, his eyes tracking her from the moment she entered the room, doing nothing to calm her racing heart. Her body responded as it’d been taught those many weeks ago under their intense inspection, the panicked scream she felt rise lodged firmly in her throat as she stood shoulders back and legs spread wide, letting them look. She could feel their eyes wandering, boring in to every no longer private place, judging.

Her blush spread as their eyes trailed down her body, pausing briefly on her kitty, no, her cunt the darkness reminded her. The voices knew what she had to do. She raged against the void as the playground chant echoed through her mind, ‘one… two… three… four… Emmy is a a little whore…’
Her body betrayed her once more, a single tear slipped from her eye as she turned and bent at the waist, showing the other half of her artwork in all its glory. Her legs trembled as she fought futilely against the self-imposed restraints, desperate to break free of the darkness before she could humiliate herself further.

Her hand was drifting back between her legs when strong hands suddenly pulled her upright, holding her tight against a powerful chest as familiar voice pierced the fog, “…she’s your problem now, do what you like with her, we’ve washed our hands of the little slut!”

The sound of the disconnected phone line was loud in the silent room, Emily Jane stared forwards with blank eyes, no hint of the inner turmoil showing on her face until one word from the witch’s parting shot hit home hard… ‘We’… the nausea rose with the realisation that her daddy had abandoned her too, her anchor… gone… silent tears poured in contrast to her brittle smile as she looked around the room, looking for something to fill the empty hole her broken heart had left in her chest.

The light flashing in her eyes dragged Emily back to the moment. “…bad reaction to the sedative,” the doctor was saying, “won’t get anything sensible out of her for a while I’m afraid headmaster.”

Where he’d come from, she couldn’t say – didn’t know where she was either, or why her face throbbed and her whole body itched so badly. All she could focus on was the sensations, they were driving her crazy, it felt like she’d been wrapped in the world’s least comfortable blanket and kicked around by the horse it’d been taken from.

Memories started to trickle past the cracks in the wall she'd built. The van ride, arriving on campus, waking up in a clinic of some kind… Emily Jane started to tremble, a small gasp squeezing past tight lips as she realised she was naked beneath this scratchy covering, and sat before two strange men.

“Excuse me,” Emily Jane quietly groaned, uncertain whether she actually wanted them to look at her. “Excuse me,” a little louder when her first foray went unanswered. Both men turned their attention back to the girl they’d just been discussing as if she wasn’t even in the room. “Can I get some clothes now, please,” she couldn’t help the pleading tone in her voice or the way the scarlet flush shot from her face to her toes, “before I meet my host family, I mean, it’s bad enough sitting here, I’d just die if I had to meet them like this…”

The two men passed a look between them that Emily couldn’t decipher before the one she didn’t recognise spoke to her.

“Ms. Saunders, without wishing to state the obvious, something has gone awfully wrong today… and I’m going to get to the bottom of that I assure you but, your application indicated you would be boarding on campus… and, without wishing to sound unkind, it’s far too late to make alternate arrangements now.”

The confusion that passed over her face wasn’t feigned, “But, I had to write to introduce myself,” she muttered to herself, yet loudly enough for the man to hear if the raised eyebrow was anything to go by…

“Ms. Saunders,” the man spoke again, “I assure you, your application was something of a mess but the amendments were clear enough, here, see for yourself…”

A file was placed in front of her, open to a page of crossed out answers, each change initialled with a hastily scribbled ‘PS’ - Emily Jane stared at the page horrified, and the next page, and the next… the Witch had gone through and changed dozens of her father’s responses… accommodation, contact details, extra curriculars, permissions, anything, it appeared, to make the experience as unpleasant as possible for Emily Jane. Punishment, she supposed, for escaping their clutches.

“The bitch,” she stated plainly, knowing that she should be angry but barely having the emotional bandwidth to process this latest shock, “she did this...”

She winced as she shook her head, quickly closing her eyes as she let out a resigned sigh. “She changed daddy’s answers… you could,” she started, knowing it was probably futile, “contact him and…” Her voice died without finishing the thought, both men were already shaking their heads in the negative.

“I’m sorry Ms. Saunders,” he grimaced, wanting to stay as far from this family drama as possible, “I understand you’re upset, but please moderate your language. And I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do, we have to adhere to your parent’s instructions as written.”

“Step,” Emily Jane shot back automatically, eyes still locked on the file in front of her, “she’s ruined everything, the… and,” she added despondently, “I think I know why my uniform didn’t fit…”

She turned the file back to the two men, opened to the page holding her measurements and style preferences. Every single measurement correct as best she could remember. Only one minor alteration had been needed across the page to leave her, as she suspected the witch had intended, stripped bare for the world to see.

“Daddy wouldn’t know centimetres from centipedes…” she said pointing at the page where every circle her father had drawn around ‘“’ (inches) had been filled in, leaving ‘cm’ showing as the unit of measurement.

[imanewb]

“Well,” the man she now knew to be the headmaster eventually said, “that’s unfortunate… but I don’t suppose it matters much. While we’d prefer your time at Rosemount Reformatory to be pleasant, that’s something entirely down to you. I’m sure, given your record, it was probably only a matter of time until you ended up in your current state, so…”

Emily Jane could only stare at the headmaster, stunned and uncomprehending as his speech progressed… reformatory? what record? Why would they expect her to end up stripped and battered, abandoned without hope?

“Unfortunate?” she squeaked out, “Doesn’t matter? What?”

“Please don’t interrupt, you’ll have a chance to ask questions shortly,” the headmaster interjected calmly, continuing as if she hadn’t even spoken, “we have a proven system here, a system that works very well with troubled teenagers, and that’s why you’ve been placed with us specifically. Not as a punishment, but a chance to turn your life around. With our unique approach we’ve turned around much worse cases than yours, graduating hundreds of respectable, well-educated young adults over the years… and I expect no less for you...”

The pressure in Emily Jane’s chest continued to build as the headmaster spoke, troubled teenagers? She wasn’t perfect, she knew, but nobody would call her troubled… well, one person might, but… wait, graduate? What the heck? She was only meant to be here for six months…

“…Some of our rules, and the consequences for breaking them may seem harsh to you and, in fairness, they are – by design, all the more reason for you to cooperate fully, focus on your studies, give up on your slatternly ways, your promiscuity, the drugs and alcohol and…”

Emily Jane couldn’t bite her tongue any longer, “Drugs?” the fist that’d formed in her throat making her voice weak and squeaky, “what are you…”

“One demerit Ms. Saunders,” the headmaster’s bland indifference was completely at odds with his words as he continued, “you’ll get your chance momentarily, but do not interrupt again or I shall have you gagged. Drugs & alcohol – you will be monitored throughout your time with us, naturally, but I’m certain you’ll be clean by the time you leave us. Of course, it’s not all stick - adhere to the three Ps your life here will remain comfortable, excel and you will be rewarded accordingly. Now, do you have any questions before the doctor completes his screening for contraband?”

Emily Jane’s mouth flapped open and closed a few times as she struggled to make sense of anything the headmaster had just said, she had so many questions she didn’t know where to begin… “troubled, drugs, record, graduate… I don’t understand, what are you talking about?”

A frown passed over the headmaster’s face as he sighed, “I’d hoped you would be reasonable Ms. Saunders, but no matter… it’s all there in your file, a copy of which is on your tablet – read it, you’ll see we already know everything, so there’s no point lying to us or fighting the inevitable. Something I’m sure you’ll come to realise in your own time, until then… doctor,” the headmaster tilted his head, “please proceed.”

“Stand please Ms. Saunders,” the doctor spoke quietly but with an unmistakably commanding tone, causing a distracted Emily Jane to comply automatically, “very good. We’ve already checked your bag... so I just need to give you the old once over…”

Emily Jane was barely aware of the rough material slipping from her shoulders as the doctor loosened the blanket they’d wrapped her in earlier. Her thoughts slowly moving from the nonsense the headmaster had just spouted to what the doctor was saying as he tapped her ankles further apart and pushed down on her shoulders. The realisation of what was about to happen hitting her like a sledgehammer between the eyes.

“…now, be a good girl,” he said calmly when he felt Emily Jane tense up, “and we’ll get this unpleasantness over and done with quickly… ok, squat… good…”

Emily Jane’s flinched as a cold, greasy finger pressed at her butt hole. She could feel the colour draining from her face and her legs threatening to buckle under as the doctor’s finger managed to worm its way inside of her before any protest had a chance to pass her lips. She drew in a pained gasp as the finger was removed, only to be immediately replaced by at least a couple more that scissored and squirmed around searching for god knew what.

“Relax, you’ve had much larger up there before, I’m sure,” the doctor commented blandly, causing Emily Jane’s eyes to nearly explode from her head as he continued, “after all, it’s all there in your file… ok, clear back here… nearly done, just a quick check up front and…”

Emily Jane jumped up, doubling over with a pained grunt, tears slipping from her eyes as the doctor’s finger slammed into her hymen, thankfully stopping short of pushing through the fragile membrane.

“Umm, headmaster,” the doctor called hesitantly, jerking away from the young girl, eyes wide in confusion, “doesn’t her file say she’s been sexually active?… promiscuous even?… well, umm, she appears to be, umm, intact…”

Emily Jane couldn’t help herself, couldn’t stay silent any longer - a bitter laugh clawed its way past her throat. The doctor stepped back, seemingly startled by the intensity of the undisguised loathing aimed squarely his way, the apology for his inadvertent roughness dying on his lips at the chilling sound.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Emily Jane demanded, keeping her voice deathly calm no matter how much she wanted to scream and rant, “Your precious file can’t possibly be wrong now can it, you gonna fix that problem now or later you perverted fu…”

“Control yourself Ms. Saunders,” the headmaster bellowed over her, “I will not hear such vile imprecations levelled at any of my staff, do you hear me?”

Emily Jane shrank back from the headmaster’s righteous fury, his hard stare sending an icy chill across her skin, stealing all the oxygen from her fiery rage until only embers remained. The headmaster’s glare turned harder as if he could see the retort forming on her lips, almost daring her to challenge his authority.

“That’s a second demerit Ms. Saunders,” he said, voice returning to its former cold indifference once satisfied the girl was properly cowed, “now, pick yourself up, close your mouth and stand on the rug in front of my desk so the doctor can complete the rest of your exam…”

Emily Jane felt her skin crawl as the so-called doctor reappeared from behind her, flinching when she saw the small digital camera in his hand. She let out a soft, relieved breath when he placed it on the headmaster’s desk, not that she could stop the heat from spreading across her face as she wondered what the old letch intended, or how long this momentary respite might last… not that she had to wonder long, tears prickled at the corners of her eyes as the doctor walked around her, moving her body around silently like a mannequin as he looked where he pleased, letting out the odd disgruntled snort when he didn’t find whatever it was he was looking for.

Emily Jane squeezed her eyes closed shut tight, unable to look at either man without feeling the urge to throw up, as the doctor knelt. His fingers pried her kitty open, his warm breath blowing across moist skin as he pulled her lips one way and then another, his face mere inches away from her button. Panic began to set in as her imagination went into overdrive, convincing herself of ever worsening fates. She tensed as she pictured naked images of herself being spread far and wide, almost stopped breathing when his finger brushed her button, certain he was about to finish what he’d started earlier…

And then it was over. Emily Jane’s eyes flew open at the sudden loss of contact, fearing whatever was to follow, desperate to see it coming.

“Nothing,” the doctor muttered half to himself, before looking up at the headmaster, “nothing… no wounds, signs of infection, scars, not a single damned track mark. I don’t know how she’s managed it,” he continued, moving back beside Emily Jane and running his fingers through her hair, “but a strand analysis will tell us more… there’s a least a year recorded right here.”

Emily Jane winced at the sudden sharp pain, eyes shooting daggers at the doctor as he carefully bagged the hairs he’d just ripped from her head, turning her back on him when it looked like there was something he wanted to say.

“You’re not off to a good start Ms. Saunders,” the headmaster said after a few moments after the doctor closed the office door, “you may think you’re special, you may think you’re a hard case, but you’ll learn… one way or the other... report to the dean of discipline in one-thirteen… now get out.”

[imanewb]

[Note]This part started getting 'long' so I've broken it at a convenient point - Still open to suggestions for her 'artwork' if anyone has any good ideas![/Note]

Emily Jane was surprised by the lack of reaction her nudity seemed to warrant from the few students she passed as she wandered dejectedly from the headmaster’s office looking from door to door, imagining what new horrors she’d find as she searched for the room she’d been sent to find.

The search didn’t last long, the dean’s office sat alone at the end of a long corridor not far from the headmaster’s study. Its identity confirmed by an ornate brass plaque affixed to the boring office door, giving no hint of what might lay beyond. Her hand rose and stilled, held ready to knock – the feeling of dread that’d built with every step of her approach freezing her in place as she considered simply turning round and running away… and then it was too late, the door clicked opened before her.

“I haven’t got all day,” a gruff voice called out from the still hidden interior, “come in, and close the door behind you.”

Taking a deep breath, she willed her feet forwards, pulling up short as her eyes fell on the man waiting for her. He was younger than she’d expected and, it seemed, doing his best to appear friendly and unthreatening.

“Welcome to Rosemount Reformatory,” he said, eyes running over her, swiftly taking in her appearance with a sly smile and a shake of his head, comparing her favourably to the mental image he’d formed while reading his newest student’s file.

Though he’d echoed the headmaster’s words from earlier, Emily Jane thought there was a warmth to his voice that had been absent earlier and, she had to give him credit, his eyes didn’t linger – after a business like inspection his eyes moved back to her face with a sympathetic wince. Not that she’d let that fool her ever again. No, she knew what hid behind those kind eyes and his soft smile - another snake in the grass, setting her up for a fall as he waited to reveal his true colours.

“Take a seat,” he continued with wave of his hand when it became clear that the girl wasn’t moving, “don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

If he was taken aback by her disbelieving snort it didn’t show on his face, as he maintained his easy-going façade in the face of her sullen silence.

“You and I are going to be spending a lot of time together young lady,” he said eventually, as he paced behind his desk, “mostly, I hope, in my role as your form tutor – a cross between a homeroom teacher and guidance counsellor, if you like. Naturally, I had hoped we might meet under better circumstances, get to know one another a little better, although,” he continued, absently patting a stack of papers on his desk, “I feel like I already know you quite well.”

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, while Emily Jane stayed silent, staring into the distance and wondering if he was going to get on with it, whatever it was, or if he intended to talk her to death, “there’s a couple of issues we must address. Firstly, pretty as your jewellery is, I’m afraid it can not stay…” He paused, as if expecting some protest at his proclamation.

Emily Jane grunted, like she’d cared about her piercing - it could melt in the fires of hell along with the bitch who’d forced it on her as far as she was concerned. Slipping the train off the ring when he resumed pacing was the easy part, all she’d had to do was unscrew one ball, and it slid right off… working the ring itself loose, and carefully dragging it from her flesh however… still, she thought, the discomfort was preferable to having someone else fishing around down there as she listened to his droning voice, words going in one ear and directly out the other.

“…and,” he continued, slapping his desk for emphasis, “you have, I’m told, been quite rude to certain members of staff. If you’re prepared to apologise I will take that into consideration in deciding your punishment...”

The soft tinkling of something metallic bouncing drew his eyes first to his desk, and then on to the girl sat before it. Her soft pants and the new starkness of livid bruising in her pallor evidence of her discomfort. His words of concern died in his throat as the girl looked back at him with undisguised malice.

“I haven’t got all day,” she sneered, steeling herself for what came next, “we both know there’s nothing I can do to stop you, so get on with it already…”

His cheeks puffed out in frustration, he’d tried to be nice, tried to take into account how she must be feeling, and she’d spat his kindness back in his face.

“Very well,” his snapped frostily, “let us proceed… Your four demerits have earnt you a tier two punishment, and on your first day too! Your attitude has bumped that to tier three…”

Despite the brave face she’d put on, Emily Jane was nervous now. Her heart leapt into her throat, racing away as he started rummaging through a cupboard. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was searching for, nor imagining the very worst. A paddle, a switch, the cane, worse? Just the thought of the cane caused her legs to tremble and her butt to twitch in anticipation of the pain she would doubtless soon be feeling.

“…should count yourself lucky,” he continued, oblivious to her mounting panic, “one more demerit and you would’ve been performing for the whole school! I hope this will serve to remind you of that fact…”

Having her wrists strapped to the arms of the seat did little to allay any of her fears. If anything, the uncertainty heightened her anxiety – if he wasn’t going to beat her butt then what???

Her mind was dragged from its ruminations by the high-pitched buzzing coming from behind her. It was familiar, but she couldn’t quite… and then the first lock of hair landed in her lap. She bit back the tears that threatened to spill as the clippers scraped backwards and forwards over her head, hacking away until only the occasional tuft remained.

It didn’t take long… her hair soon lay pooled around her feet, her mind drifting back to a history lesson – the épuration sauvage, the wild purge that swept through France as the allies advanced towards after D-Day. Women were stripped & shaved, publicly humiliated for their ‘collaboration’… and today Emily Jane knew just how those women must have felt. Her cheeks flushed in anticipation of being seen like this, stripped of her clothes and her dignity both, when she finally left this office, knowing this wouldn’t end with a ‘simple’ haircut and dreading what might come next.

Those women suffered greatly, she knew, as they were dragged through the streets where they were taunted, beaten, spat upon and, sometimes, even killed. Cruel though this school was, she knew they couldn’t go that far, right?, even as she wondered if that’s what he’d meant by performing for the whole school.

She drew in a startled breath when he pulled her roughly to her feet and pushed her towards the door. She’d been so distracted by her thoughts she didn’t notice her hands being released, and now stood there frozen in indecision.

‘Was that it,’ she wondered, ‘or was this some kind of trick?’ - not that she wanted to be hurt, but she had to be missing something…

“Let’s go.” She looked up in time to see his back disappearing out into the corridor, wincing at the fresh sting between her legs she hurried after him, glad she hadn’t simply left.

The corridors felt darker, more threatening as he led her silently along a seemingly random path to who knew where. The longer they walked the more people they encountered. And this time people did stare, and point and laugh, unchallenged at the freak being led around before them like a performing animal… the only thing missing, she thought bitterly as her cheeks burned hotter and hotter, was the leash.

“This,” he said breaking his silence, “is your dorm… we’ll conclude your punishment here…”

And the other shoe dropped. She kicked herself for thinking this might actually be over, for daring to believe the ember hope that he was finished with her.

“…take a seat, your roommates should be with us sh… you’re bleeding,” his voice rose in pitch as he interrupted himself, having finally looked at her, “what…?”

Emily Jane looked down at her lap, there wasn’t much blood – barely a trickle in fact, and far less than she’d feared from his reaction. She spread her legs wide then reached down and spread her lips in answer to his question, blushing furiously even as she took some grim satisfaction from the way his face paled as two small holes, the only remaining evidence she’d ever been pierced, came into view.

“Ooooh,” an excited female voice broke the spell that held him in place, allowing him to look away, “is it show and tell?”

[imanewb]

“Don’t stop on my account…” Emily Jane’s head turned towards the voice as her knees slammed together to see a girl, a little older than herself maybe, leaning against the doorframe wearing a shit-eating grin from the scene she’d walked in on.

“Indeed,” the dean proclaimed, lips quirking into a brief smile, “given that it’s your first time, you might as well start your performance now… who knows, you might even finish before the others arrive.”

The girl clapped her hands, bouncing in place excitedly at the Dean’s words - Emily Jane just looked between the pair in confusion… if the ‘walk of shame’ through the hallways hadn’t been her performance what, she wondered, was it he expected her to do?

“You’re wasting time Ms. Saunders...” the dean reprimanded, “you will perform now, or your roommates will be forced to give you a hand,”

“Or a finger!” the girl, one of her roommates Emily Jane guessed, interjected enthusiastically, slapping a hand over her mouth at the look the dean gave her.

“Yes, thank you Gloria,” he continued drily, returning his expectant gaze back to Emily Jane – irritated by her inaction, “now…”

He let out an impatient sigh when he was interrupted, yet again, by the sight of bodies crashing together in the doorway, struggling to enter the room at the same time. The boys, it seemed, had arrived… which might actually be useful, he realised, as it didn’t look like the girl had any intention of making this easier on herself.

He waved the kids into position, watching carefully how Emily Jane reacted to their proximity, planning to interfere only if she struggled. He observed the way her body responded as they closed in on her: Her breathing becoming faster, shallower, and her eyes widening, giving lie to stoic front she was trying to project.

He made a mental note of the way she tracked their movements as they settled around her, the resigned way her shoulders sagged, the faint blush that appeared as Gloria knelt in front of her and the way she flinched as the girl’s hands rested on her thighs. All told, he was quite satisfied that they were getting through her ‘tough girl’ shell.

Emily Jane’s gaze lifted back to his at the sound of his voice, not scared but hard, and full of loathing. Her body flushing with what she realised was about to happen. Performance – why not call it what it was? Her mind flashed back to the in-flight shower and the shame she’d felt at the show she’d given the flight attendant… it would have been horrible just trying to bring herself off but now, having to suffer these strangers’ hands on her body… perhaps if he’d taken a moment to explain, not that it would have made anything better, but to not even be given the choice…

It was clear she was fighting hard to ignore their touch, to stay still and silent in the face of their ministrations, despite the anxiety she was obviously feeling. She’d chewed her lip from the moment the first hand brushed against a nipple, soft strokes and little flicks that graduated to pulling and twisting, yet her gaze never dropped from his face even as the kids mocked her obvious arousal, the evidence of her embarrassment at being seen and handled like this spreading across her skin.

He knew she wouldn’t be able to hold out forever. Even if he was quietly impressed she’d resisted this long, not that he’d tell her that, he wouldn’t intervene - she’d learn the futility of fighting against them, when she experienced the inevitable shame and humiliation magnified by her eventual failure.

Gloria pushed firmly at her knees, strong hands overcoming the momentary resistance to open the path to her target. He noticed Emily Jane’s pupils dilating and the sharp intake of breath when Gloria’s fingers traced their way along the inside of her thighs.

She was panting heavily, teetering, he judged, right on the very edge until Gloria’s fingers flicked her little bean and… nothing happened. He watched in amazement as the blush of arousal faded from her skin and her ragged breathing calmed, returning to normal even as Gloria worked that button between her fingers. Watched as she shut down in front of him…

“Uhh, Dean Thomas,” Gloria’s uncertain voice interrupted his thoughts what could have been minutes or hours later as he stood staring, trying to work out what had just happened or, more incredibly, not while the girl stared at him relentlessly, “I can’t… she’s not… umm…”

“Enjoy the show?” Emily Jane asked flatly, the burning humiliation fading along with the light in her eyes as the walls she’d built around her heart locked into place. The waves of numbness that’d washed over her with each memory the kids’ touches had ignited formed into her armour, protecting her psyche in the moment even as her memories and emotions were stored to fuel her nightmares later.

Truthfully, no, he didn’t enjoy this part of his job, but he did like the results. Whatever else could be said, humiliating the students in public punishments like this was very, very effective – in all the years he’d been at Rosemount a single session, and the threat of some nebulous ‘worse’ to follow, was usually enough to ensure students quickly fell in line and, mostly, stayed that way.

Until today that is… he’d never seen a student shut down like that, hold his eye with such disdain whilst being stroked and fingered. There’d been nothing in her file, he was sure, to indicate such a response was probable - no evidence of abuse or other trauma, though he made a mental note to double check when she finally looked away.

A chill passed down his spine as he watched her turn that same flat expression on her roommates, driving them back as she muttered to herself, studying their faces intently… he couldn’t help but shudder as he wondered what was going through her head, or what kind of viper they’d accepted into their midst.

“And there it is,” Emily Jane said turning back to him, unable to hide the contempt in her voice when he ordered her roommates to spank her, “get off on watching do you? Afraid to get your own hands dirty?”

“It won’t work,” he said, straining to keep his voice even, “push as much as you like, you’ll only make your life harder - it won’t get you sent home…”

“What home?” Emily Jane interjected bitterly, the callousness in her voice taking him by surprise – if she wasn’t trying to get herself expelled, not that expulsion was an option for any of their students, then what?

The silence stretched between them until the nervous shuffling of the other kids let him know he wasn’t the only one rattled by this girl’s abnormal response, nor the obvious challenge to his authority - something he couldn’t leave unanswered.

He was, he realised slowly, losing a battle of wills with a teenage girl when she simply ignored his non-verbal command to take the position over his lap, and then the order she’d forced him to reluctantly give – giving him no real option other than to manhandle her. Her words from earlier came back to him as she flopped lifelessly over his lap, sliding halfway to the floor before he caught her; “…we both know there’s nothing I can do to stop you…“

No, he thought, she couldn’t stop him from doing his job… wasn’t even trying really… no, she was doing something far worse than fighting back, this was something insidious. She was making him look weak – making him repeat himself, openly showing her contempt for him and the school, spreading doubt where there should only be certainty - what, he wondered would happen if she continued with this policy of non-compliance… if it spread to the other students. Riled, he hit her maybe a little harder than he’d originally intended…

“One,” Emily Jane screamed, not making any effort to hold back the way she did on the plane, the searing agony shooting from her butt down the back of her thighs, “thank you for molesting me, please may I have another…”

“Two,” she wheezed, her breath exploding from her lungs in a single violent exhalation as his hand landed, “h-h-happy now?, p-p-please may I haf another…”

“Thr…” She didn’t finish the word as she fell into the waiting darkness.

Emily Jane awoke cold and mercifully alone. Shuddering with every step, she staggered over to the door. She slumped against the door, blocking out the world and everyone in it, wrapped her arms tightly around her core and let the walls down. The tears came, faster and faster until she had to bite her fist to keep her wracking sobs quiet as she drowned under the weight of everything she was feeling.

There was the physical pain, of course, but she knew from bitter experience she could survive that. But the emotional pain… she felt trapped, abandoned and unloved. The sense of hopeless despair grew as the darkness chewed at her own self-worth: bad things, her mother had told her, happened to bad people… what, she wondered, had she done to deserve a fraction of everything she’d suffered, was she so unlovable, so disposable, as to warrant everyone’s callous disregard.

Her thoughts continued to spiral, warring with the flashes of anger she knew she should be feeling as she recalled the embarrassment and shame she’d felt at her introduction to this hellhole - being stripped of her dignity, of the way her arousal grew as her roommates had molested her, watched her as her body betrayed her.

She shifted, the sudden pain cutting through the thoughts she couldn’t, wouldn’t, voice. The pain fuelled her anger, funnelling everything into the raging tornado nestled deep inside her chest, pushing aside her niggling doubts, the temptation to accept this injustice, until the darkness finally quietened.

She glanced around the room, scrubbing at the evidence of her pity party as she wondered how much longer her peace might last. As if drawn by her thoughts, quiet voices murmured on the other side of the door. Emily Jane scampered back to the bed she’d woken in, pulled the duvet tight around her and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep, hoping they’d leave sleeping dogs lie.

[imanewb]

The other kids padded round the room quietly, approaching and backing away from her apparently sleeping form several times. Their hushed conversation was too quiet for her to catch what they were saying, as if there could be anything else on their minds – no, Emily Jane knew they had to be talking about her and, much as she might want, didn’t know how to stop them.

For a moment, she was tempted to ‘wake up’, to see if they’d carry on knowing that she was listening to every word but soon dismissed the notion, remembering the almost gleeful way they’d followed the Dean’s instructions earlier – there’d been no hint of sympathy nor remorse in their eyes when they’d held her down and played with her body. No, she thought, these people wouldn’t stop if they knew she was listening, they’d probably enjoy making her uncomfortable, trying to get a reaction from her.

A deep laugh echoed loudly in the quiet room, startling her before the room fell completely silent… “You’re in my bed new girl,” the words sent icy shivers down her spine as he spoke. Her heart started to race as bile rose in her throat, her stomach rebelling at the idea of sleeping with… no, what sort of boarding school allowed co-ed rooms?

“I know you’re awake,” he continued, so close the breath from his voice brushed her ear, “you gonna be my little snuggle…”

Emily Jane had heard enough, bolting upright she barely missed colliding with whoever it was leaning over her. She was already halfway to the door before the laughter started, and in the corridor before anyone could stop her. She ran like her life depended on it, turning randomly through the unfamiliar hallways in her bid to get away. She didn’t dare look back as she searched for somewhere to hide, somewhere with a door she could put between her and the pursuers she could feel breathing down her neck.

She could hear excited voices growing closer as more and more people were drawn to the commotion outside their dorm rooms, anxiety turned to panic, and panic to all-out fear as she passed one locked handle-less door after another until, miraculously, one moved under her touch. She didn’t stop to think, to wonder where it might lead or why this one particular door remained ajar. No, she barged through. The rebounding door locking in her wake, the click unheard over her ragged breath or the pounding of her pulse in her ears.

Eyes wide in the dimly lit space she slumped against the door, shaking from the adrenalin surging through her system as she waited for the footsteps to draw up outside her hideaway, for the door to rattle under their pounding fists, for something, anything to happen once she was discovered. Seconds crawled by into minutes, minutes stretched eternally until the corridors fell silent and her adrenaline rush slowly faded.

Had they given up, she wondered, or were they waiting silently to pounce the moment the door swung open? Uncertain what to do she looked around her for the first time, noting the shelves packed with linen disappearing into the shadows at the back of the long, thin room… at least she could make herself comfortable, she realised – even if it was only a matter of time before her own needs would drive her from this temporary sanctuary.

Emily Jane woke with a start, momentarily confused about what had roused her… stunned she’d managed to sleep at all as memories of the fear and running blindly through the corridors returned. But sleep she had, she realised, as the door nudged against her legs – forcing her to struggle free from the makeshift nest of towels she’d made, ready to face whoever it was who’d found her…

“Well,” a voice with a perfect ‘movie villain’s accent’ exclaimed, “what do we have here then?”

He stood there in the open doorway, the bright light streaming round his body revealing only his outline - but that was enough for her to see his size, to send tingles of fear shooting up and down her spine. She locked her knees to try and hide her trembling as she considered her options - she could scream or try to run if she could but get past him, for what little good either might do her.

“Come on out then,” he continued, when she didn’t move, “we’ve been wondering where you got to.”

Fearing he’d simply drag her out if she didn’t move of her own volition, she took a couple of tentative steps, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she wondered what fresh hell she was walking into.

Head down, she didn’t notice the appraising look he gave her, couldn’t bring herself to look at him or speak, lest she triggered whatever wrath he had in mind for her.

“I’m glad I found you when I did,” he continued lightly, oblivious to the thoughts running through her head, “any later and you would have missed breakfast completely, and we wouldn’t want that! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day you know, got to keep your energy up…”

His voice droned on and on as he led her through the maze of corridors and, before she knew it, she found herself back outside the dorm room she’d been dumped in the night before.

“OK, home sweet home,” he said with a smile, seemingly content to continue ignoring the elephant in the room, “let’s get you dressed and ready for the day shall we.”

He pulled her into the, thankfully, empty room without waiting for any kind of reply from Emily Jane, dragging her towards the bed she’d so recently been forced to flee. Her blood froze in terror when he sat on the mattress, her limbs refusing to cooperate as he patted the space beside himself, expectant, demanding.

She could only shake her head, as she prepared herself for the worst - angry with herself and the piteous whine that passed her lips as he easily overcame her resistance, dragging her to where he wanted her. She turned away as soon as she felt his weight lifting from beside her, not wanting to see it coming… waiting… Though it didn’t hurt, the quiet thud of something unexpected bouncing off her chest was enough to draw a pained gasp from her lips, for her to open her eyes and stare at what had just hit her.

“Wha?” The strangled question escaped as her eyes fell on the clothes he’d, apparently, thrown at her. She snatched them up, pressing them to her face, reassuring herself they were real before they could be taken away again. She rushed to put them on, getting into a tangled mess in her haste to restore a little dignity, forgetting for a moment her audience.

She looked down and smiled. Twirling, she took in the dishevelled appearance of the badly fitting uniform and cared not one whit. Sure, she’d missed a few buttonholes on the shirt and the skirt flared dangerously high as she’d turned, its hem barely covering her kitty or her butt, but she was overjoyed to be covered for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

“Forget something?” He asked, his snort of laughter sounded genuine to her ears as he held out a pair of plain white panties.

Colour flared in her cheeks as she looked at the small white bundle in his hand, wobbling unsteadily as she wondered just what he’d seen as she span around, feeling even more exposed now that she had when she’d been standing there bare arsed naked.

“Here,” he said, reaching out a steadying hand for the girl to grasp, “allow me…”

Emily Jane sucked in a deep breath and placed her hands on his shoulders. Her blush deepened as she lifted a foot, causing the hem of her skirt to rise up but, if all this creep wanted to do was to dress her, she’d count herself lucky… his eyes widened slightly before he stiffly knelt and guided the panties over one foot and, after a little tap to get her to swap legs, the other.

He shimmied the underwear into place without comment, his fingers brushing up over her thighs, stopping wrapped around her hips.

Emily Jane bit her lip, trying to fight back a moan as her flush spread across her chest. She stood placidly, horrified at the way her body was reacting to this stranger’s fleeting touch, refusing to look at his face as his woodsy scent washed over her.

When she didn’t move, his fingers slowly undid the buttons she’d mangled in her earlier rush. All the air seemed to leave her lungs as her chest was re-exposed to him, she closed her eyes, almost enjoying the slow rhythm of his fingers pressing against her still chilled skin, wishing he’d just hurry and get it over with.

She was beginning to feel lightheaded from holding her breath, her mind floating from the sensation of the fabric scraping back and forth across her sensitive nipples as he worked. A sharp slap to her behind snapped her from her revelry, a single tear leaking past her screwed up eyes as she wondered what was wrong with her, why she got so excited by his gentle touch.

“Aww, you’re cute,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, “but sorry honey, you ain’t got the right equipment to get my motor running, now…”.

Stunned by the gentle kiss, her eyes flew open to see his smiling face retreating from her. It took several moments for her brain to catch up with his words while he rooted around in her bag. The thought that he didn’t find her attractive sank in, her own disappointment surprising and confusing her - Her mind raced, recalling her every flaw as she tried to work out why he wouldn’t like her: Was it because her breasts were too small, the two black eyes she currently sported, what they’d done to her hair… or…

“You’re gay?” she blurted out, her voice cracking with the desperate hope that his disinterest wasn’t because of something wrong with her.

“Guilty sugar,” he laughed, “now let’s get you down to breakfast… look on the bright side, at least you don’t have to brush your hair!”

Emily Jane scowled at the reminder but followed him out the door when her stomach loudly protested it’s dissatisfaction. He kept up a brisk pace as they walked, talking practically non-stop – finally remembering to introduce himself as one of her floor’s RAs in between pointing out different rooms and buildings as they passed.

The smell of coffee caught her attention, pulling her feet forward and away from her guide until she found herself looking over a nearly vacant cafeteria.

“Keen, aren’t we,” he panted out between laboured breaths having ran to catch up with her, “but you should be more careful, someone else might report your ‘very fast walk’ and then we’d both be for it!”

Very fast walk, she snorted at the air quotes she heard in his reprimand… dismayed she’d somehow managed to break yet another rule in this shit hole.

With time short, she grabbed a pile of toast while Rowan poured her coffee. After the first bite, she practically inhaled the food guided by her rumbling stomach. Looking round, she’d been pleasantly surprised by the variety on offer, thinking maybe, just maybe, Rosemount wasn’t all bad after all… if she could keep her head down…

“So,” Rowan interrupted her silent musing, a new tension in his voice, “you going to tell me how you ended up in that cupboard?”

[imanewb]

[Note - Been sick the last week, knocked this out in a couple of hours, hopefully I haven't screwed anything up too much ]

And there it was, she thought, as the coffee turned to ash on her tongue. Show her some kindness, put her at ease and lead her into a trap… not that she had any friends here, but she wasn’t stupid enough to go out of her way to make more enemies and, sure as eggs are eggs, grassing on her roommates was a sure-fire way to destroy any chance of anything resembling a peaceful coexistence.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” she said, pushing the plate away from her, “and I’m going to be late… if you’ll excuse me.”

Not waiting for a response, she was up and following a couple of stragglers out into the corridor within a couple of heartbeats, leaving a confused looking RA in her wake.

Two minutes later she found herself stood outside her homeroom fighting the urge to simply walk away, not looking forward to the warm reception she felt she was sure to receive.

“Are you planning on coming in?” The woman who stood arms crossed over her chest and looking down at her was most definitely not Dean Thomas. He’d said he was her homeroom teacher, hadn’t he? Was she, she wondered, even in the right place?

“Ms. Saunders,” the woman chided, “if you’re not inside before the bell sounds you will be marked absent and have to explain yourself to Dean Thomas.”

Emily Jane leapt into motion, keen to avoid that hateful man. Tripping over her own feet, she stumbled into the classroom prompting quiet laughter from the already seated students. Head down to hide her embarrassment, she looked around for an empty seat – wanting to get out of the spotlight.

“Front and centre Ms. Saunders,” the teacher spoke over the students, quieting them with a look, as she pointed to a small chair beside her desk, “your seat, until you show you can be trusted to sit with your peers... Now, if you’ll introduce yourself…”

They were going to pretend this was just another first day in a new school were they? Emily Jane bit back the derisive laugh before it could escape past her lips and, suddenly inspired by one of the many movies she’d watched whilst hidden away over the summer, looked up at the other kids. “Who am I?” She asked, “I’m prisoner 24601!”

A few giggles spread amongst the class as she turned and, ignoring the huffing teacher and the small chair completely, dropped to sit cross-legged on the classroom floor.

“Work quietly,” the teacher snapped before turning to Emily Jane and lowering her voice, “fight the inevitable as much as you like Ms. Saunders, you won’t win.”

Emily Jane shivered at the ice in the teacher’s voice, wondering why she hadn’t simply gone through the motions and how this show of defiance would come back to bite her on the arse. She pulled out her tablet and distracted herself, trying to memorise her timetable until the bell rang.

She stood staring at the battered metal door wondering, again, just what kind of sadist would schedule a gym class as the first lesson of a day?

Taking a deep breath, she slammed her locker shut ruing the lack of any kind of lock and followed her classmates out into the gym itself. Her feet dragged to a halt, blocking the doorway, as she stared - eyes roaming over the sight that greeted her.

A not to gentle shove soon got her moving again, even as she tried to process what she was seeing. This was unlike any school gym she’d seen before, it looked more like how she imagined a military boot camp might appear with and abundance of padded walls and flooring, and rows of punching bags some kids were already hammering away down one side.

“Welcome to anger management,” a familiar voice said in her left ear, “I think you’re going to enjoy this,” its twin said in her right.

A shrill whistle blast echoed through the cavernous space, quieting the excited babble and drawing everyone’s eyes to a small woman stood calmly in the middle of the room, her hard eyes passing over each student in turn.

“Welcome back ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you’re all looking forward to some therapy but remember, safety first – group up, laps, stretches and then you can let it all hang out on the bags... Go!” Her little speech was punctuated by a short peep, the sound of which hadn’t finished ringing before Emily Jane felt herself being dragged off by the twins for the first of who knew how many laps.

A tortured lifetime later she stood bent double in front of a heavy bag, wheezing as Alex strapped a pair of gloves over her hands. “Ready for this?” he asked smiling, “time to work out some of those negative emotions, just picture the face of someone…”

He didn’t get to finish his introductory speech, Emily Jane’s fist crashed into the heavy bag with a grunt of discomfort, pain rippling through her hand and up her arm. She pictured Judas’s smug face as the sloppy punch connected and felt something ripping free inside her. She swung wildly, faster and harder, over and over, as she screamed out her burning anger, wishing the traitorous bitch was there to feel her wrath until she fell to her knees, physically and emotionally spent.

She felt lighter than she had in months, even as tears streamed down her face. The complete absence of sound finally registered, however, prompting her to look up. Scrubbing her eyes with the back of the gloves, she found the whole class watching her intently, their mouths hanging open in a mix of shock and horror. Even the teacher seemed to be caught out, stopping mid-step and whispering something under her breath, averting her gaze after briefly making eye contact.

Nobody tried to stop her as she climbed unsteadily to her feet, nor when she turned and stumbled back towards the locker rooms - pushing past bodies frozen in place as she fled the intensity of her own emotions. She could hear the whispered commentary as she tore off the gloves, not well enough to know exactly what was being said but, after that little display, she had no doubt who they’d be talking about.

She hurriedly peeled off her sweaty gym kit and, desperate to drown out the insidious whispering, fell into the nearest shower, letting the water drum against her face until it was all she could hear.

The class obviously ended. Footsteps came and went, voices rose and fell as other students showered and left while she hid under the pounding spray until long after the water had run cold. Shivering, she gathered her composure and stepped out, relieved to note she was alone. She dried herself briskly with the rough towel, trying to rub some warmth into her aching limbs as she marched back towards her locker.

Her heart fell as the bell sounded indicating the start of the next period. She looked from the empty locker to the equally devoid-of-clothing changing room and back again, anger rising as she wondered why anyone would do this to her. Was it merely a cruel prank played on the new girl, an initiation maybe, or something more serious - did someone have her in their crosshairs for some reason?

“And why are you not in your next class Ms. Saunders?”

She turned slowly, fighting the urge to scream as she pulled the towel tight around her body. Her eyes lifted slowly, getting only as far as the large proctor’s badge before dropping back to the floor. She breathed out a small sigh of relief, the proctors were far from her favourite people but at least he’d help, right?

“Well,” he said holding out her bag, “hurry up and run along Ms. Saunders, you’re already late.”

“Funny,” she snarked, “I can’t go out there like this...”

His hand dropped and his eyes roamed over her, widening as if only just noticing she was wearing nothing but a towel. Her anxiety rose as he smiled, dampening some of her anger - her blush suddenly blossoming as he looked towards the door, realising a second too late what he intended.

“Well,” he said smiling coldly, “let’s do something about that…”

She couldn’t help the scream that slipped out as her hands flew up to catch the bag flying towards her head. She didn’t have time to protest further before she felt his hands pushing her towards the door.

The door swung closed with a clang behind them, leaving them alone in the, thankfully, empty corridor. “See how easy that was,” he sneered, “you were right about one thing though… you can’t go to class like that!”