The Re-education of Tris Neill

Matron's Hairbrush

It is a late October evening and the wind is cold and damp as it swirls across the courtyard and plasters my black gabardine skirt tighter against my thighs. Matron tugs impatiently on my leash as she escorts me back to the Stepford Re-Education Center Dormitories. i totter fearfully in her wake, my high heels and tight skirt hobble me, my anxiety makes me clumsy.
Her displeasure is evident as i glance up at the tall, womanly figure in front of me. Her stride is hurried, Her posture erect and commanding. i clutch my purse to my breast, trying to stay warm in my pretty but thin ivory blouse. My nipples harden inside my lacy bra, and not just from the cold, as i think about the punishment She is sure to reward me with once i am back in my room.
My face is still burning and red from the slapping Miss Wells, the administrative office manager, had given me just minutes ago.

My first week in secretarial training had not gone as well as i had hoped, to say the least. i had proven to be forgetful, clumsy and willful, according to Miss Wells, an opinion she relayed to Matron in clipped and disgusted tones as i stood next to Her, my head lowered in dismay.

'Get into your room, young lady', Matron snaps once we are back inside Dormitory  C. 'Once I have filled in your report, I will be back to deal with you. Now, get in that corner and KNEEL!'

i hear a rustling noise behind me and a moment later she yanks my head back by my hair and rubs Her still warm panties over my face- a familiar (and secretly welcomed) humiliation. 'Hold them there with your pretty little nose until I get back,' She hisses. i shiver as i hear Her lock my room door behind Her. i press the warm nylon firmly against the wall- i dare not let them drop!

to be continued...