Chapter 3

Anna awoke to the sound of a loud alarm bell at 6.30am. She had hardly slept all night and only fallen into a slumber as dawn approached. For a brief moment or two, she wondered where she was. Then the horror hit her.

Naked women were beginning to pass the end of her bed. She emitted an anguished groan as she struggled out of bed and stood in pyjamas on the cold linoleum floor. The morning she had dreaded all night was upon her.

“Hurry up!” Jane urged her, putting her head through the cubicle entrance. “If you’re not under the shower one minute after the bell, you’re for it. Didn’t you read the rules?”

“Yes... yes...” Anna answered. She had, but, of course, she had forgotten. Quickly removing her nightclothes, she ran after her to the shower room where all around here there were gasps and squeals. She soon discovered why. Darting under the shower, the water was freezing. She too shrieked and ran out.

“No... no...” warned Jane. “You’ve got to stay under. For three minutes. You must learn the rules... fast...”

Anna got back under, gasping like the others were. Jumping up and down, flapping her arms. Her breasts were bouncing and rolling, so were her buttocks. So were everybody else’s. After a minute or so Miss Beeton came strolling in to watch, a sardonic grin on her face, amusing herself at the antics of the women prisoners!

Suddenly the water went off and they all staggered out like half drowned rats. Anna’s flesh was tingling all over. Panting, she hurried back to her bed, wondering if she was supposed to put on her pyjamas again.

Miss Beeton was at the entrance. “Dobson,” she said, leaning against the wall. “Go along to Matron and ask her for your uniform.” Anna looked around for her pyjamas. “Just as you are,” she grinned.

Blushing, she stumbled out of the dormitory, trying to remember the way to the Store.

Hurrying up and down several corridors, she still couldn’t find it. Then, out of nowhere, another uniformed warden appeared.

“Hello, what’s all this birthday suit stuff, then?”

Blushing, Anna tried to cover some of herself. Pointless really, but, natural for a woman. “I... I’m looking for the S-Store...” she said.

To Anna’s shocked surprise, catching her off balance, the warden gripped her arm, spun her round and slapped her bottom hard. Once ... twice! “Forgotten something, haven’t you, imbecile?” she said.

Gasping ... shamed and shocked that this could happen to her, Anna realised at once what it was she had forgotten. “M-Miss ... I’m s-sorry... Miss... s-sorry...” she blurted out.

“First left, second right,” the warden said. “Hurry along, like a good little girl.” The young warden gave Anna’s bottom a third slap as she made off. Finding the Store, she knocked on the door. A grunt came from inside that she took to mean enter. The Matron, a large squat woman, was sitting at a table. “I ... I’ve come for my... my uniform, Miss,” she said, feeling herself flush with fury. Oh the humiliation of it all!

“You should have picked it up last night,” the Matron said.

“I ... I didn’t know, Miss,” Anna said, seeing, to her horror, that the Matron had picked up a slipper.

“I’m not concerned with that. But you will remember in future. Bend over.”

“P-Please... please... no...”

“Bend over!”

“B-But... I’m new here... please... I d-didn’t know...”

“Bend over or I’ll report you. Then you’ll get the cane. Not just my slipper.”
.
As she bent over, a great sob burst from Anna. How could she be in this awful place? Naked ... helpless... subject to every whim. It was a living nightmare.

“Legs straight... bend more. Touch your toes.” Anna just managed it.

Whaaccckkk!

“Yeee... oww... owww...” Anna leapt up, clasping at her left buttock cheek where the hard leather sole had fallen.

“Hands away. Bend over!”

Whaaccckkk!

“A-aggh... ooowww... oooowwwww!” This time, as she jerked erect, it was Anna’s right buttock which she clasped frantically, sobbing uncontrollably. The injustice of it! It was beyond all reason. Then she heard a locker opening.

“Here, girl...” the Matron said, holding up what looked to Anna like a pair of old-fashioned bottle-green bloomers before tossing them to her. She gave Anna a sardonic smile. “Won’t forget again. Will you?”

“No ... n-no ... Miss,” Anna choked. For a moment, she looked at them in dismay before resignedly stepping into them and pulling them up over her thighs. The knickers were the old-fashioned high-waisted bloomer style with elasticated legs but she was glad of the opportunity for even this covering and stepped into them. They were so absurdly small however that it was almost impossible to pull them up over her bottom, no matter how hard she tried.

“Tearing knickers whilst putting them on or taking them off is a punishable offence,” said the Matron.

“They’re ... they’re t-too tight ... Miss ...” she said.

“Maybe be you ought to try harder ...”

Anna wriggled this way and that, tugging harder but the knickers wouldn’t budge over her buttock cheeks.

“They ... they w-won’t ...”

“Try these, fat arse!” Another pair of knickers sailed through the air.

Anna removed the first pair and put on the second. They were several sizes too large, so much so that the elasticated waistband barely supported them.

“They ... they’re a-awfully big, Miss.” Anna said.

“They’re just right,” pronounced the woman. And that was the end of the matter. “Now your vest ...”

That too was thrown. Anna began to put it on. It was a thick woollen vest that stretched tightly over her ample breasts and down to her waist.

“Socks.”

Anna caught the items thrown at her and pulled the grey woollen socks up to her knees. She hadn’t worn knee-socks since boarding school.

“Now your shorts..” A pair of thick cotton shorts came flying through the air. They were big, with a strongly elasticated waistband. Anna stepped into them and pulled them up but they were uncomfortably baggy and loose. Like everything else, they were a mockery, designed to degrade.

“Blouse and tie.”

They too were thrown. Miserably, Anna put them on. The blouse was made of rough cotton material with a rigid starched collar.

“Beginning to feel more like a schoolgirl now?” the Matron grinned as Anna fastened the tie under her collar and tucked the tight-fitting blouse inside the waistband of her shorts.

“Y-Yes ... yes ... I suppose I ... am ... “ she answered wretchedly, as tears ran down her cheeks.

“Shoes...”

The shoes were brown slip-on plimsolls, the sort that schoolchildren used to wear in the 1950s. Anna put them on and stood up. Everything felt so hideously unnatural.

She shivered with dread as she caught sight of her distraught, red-eyed features in the wall mirror, hardly recognising herself standing there dressed in the ridiculous shorts and knee-socks. The shaming indecency of the ‘uniform’ she had been forced to put on was brought home to her as she waited while the Matron pulled her shoulder length hair into two bunches and tied powder-pink bows at the end of them, only adding to her humiliating ‘schoolgirl’ appearance. Yet there she was, a mature woman of 32, meekly submitting to this ghastly new regime. How utterly absurd it was!

“Right ... off you go, girl,” the Matron said. “I’m taking you to Miss Beeton ... and I advise you to be most, most respectful towards her. She has a mind of her own and knows what she wants. Also, she has a strong right arm.” Stark fear lanced through Anna. Now ... now it was really beginning.

Trying to hold her tears in check, she stumbled after the Matron out of the room.

Anna was taken along a short corridor, after a few steps Matron halted. She pushed open a door. “Inside.” They entered a large kitchen. There was a plump woman working over a stove, another woman about her own age mopping the floor and a younger girl washing dishes.

“This is the new girl ...” the Matron said, as they all stopped their work and looked in our direction. “Her name is Dobson.” The women grinned. “You will address these ladies as Miss, if ever they speak to you. Is that clear?”

“Ye-yes ... Miss ...” What choice did she have. Horror upon horror ... she now even had to address the kitchen maids as Miss.

“Can’t have you inmates troubling me at this time of day. Off you go... back to your dormitory.”

Anna found her way back to the dormitory, only to find Miss Beeton, hands on hips, waiting for her. “You took your time,” she said in a surly fashion.

“I... I’m sorry Miss... I lost my way, Miss,” Anna replied as meekly as she could.

“Were you cheeky to Matron? More than likely,” she said. “Show me your bottom.”

Reluctantly, Anna turned round, wondering what was going to happen.

“Whenever I tell you to show your bottom, girl,” she said. “You show it by pulling your pants down, bending right over and touching your toes. Do it.”

With a groan, Anna eased the elastic waistband of her shorts and bloomer-style knickers down her thighs and bent right over. “That’s how I like to inspect a girl’s bottom. Other wardens may like to have a girl standing. You will remember that.” How many more things were there to remember... “I thought so, got some slipper. Why?” she demanded.

“I... I forgot to get m-my uniform... l-last night, Miss,” Anna replied, still bending in that humiliating fashion.

“Ah well, I don’t expect you’ll forget it in the future,” she said. “Pull your pants up and get dressed properly.”

Dressed! It was scarcely the word Anna would have used to describe what she was wearing. Miss Beeton stood watching with an amused smirk on her face as Anna pulled her shorts up again, hating the way they accentuated the ample proportions of her bottom and thighs. Even the tight blouse she wore made her breasts thrust full and firm through the thin material.

“Follow on down to breakfast... and don’t forget to eat everything up,” said Miss Beeton, turning on her heel. Her trimly curvaceous bottom swung arrogantly from side to side under a close-fitting black skirt and her blonde hair bounced with her movement. She was very much the young ‘Madam’.

After hearing that, Anna made a special effort to eat everything, the last spoonful of porridge, the last crumbs of toast that went with the eggs. The inmates ate, sitting stiff-backed and in silence, as the regulations prescribed. Except for their size and garb, it could have been some scene out of a strict Victorian nursery. Towards the end of the meal, a loudspeaker on the wall clicked then crackled into life. “Pupils will be ready for class in half an hour,” came Miss Beeton’s voice. “They will go to their classrooms.” Click. Silence fell. There was a tension in the group as they looked from one to another, wondering what was in store.