In northern Vermont there's an old school building that we had used once as the State Police Training Facility. Some vandals had trashed the place recently, and Deputy Johns and I were sent up there to play janitor. And I certainly wasn't happy about it. But then, in the debris of some vandalized wooden lockers, I found these papers -- letters from a girl to her sister.
It was kind of strange at first to read them, but it was also kind of titillating, too. It took some work and some research to reconstruct the whole story.
I found out that we had used the old school building for more than just a training facility. Seems that in the 80s (when I was still in school), the Corrections Department had used it, too. They had "Boot Camps" in the summer, back before they were all the rage and the celebrities even got into the act.
It had its detractors and they lasted only a couple of years. Some people apparently would rather have convicts rotting in cells, than out doing roadwork or cleaning up parks, which is what the boot campers did. Each session lasted two weeks and was segregated by sex, one session for males and one for females. The "campers" were mostly first time offenders and usually in the 18-20 age range. If you finished the two weeks, then your record was wiped clean. Or, you could quit at any time and just serve out your sentence.
The first of the letters was written shortly after the girl had arrived in camp. (I took the liberty to do some reader friendly editing.)
*****
Hi Sis, I"m writing like you asked. They give us an hour at night to read and write. But I don't think they want us writing the truth, like I plan to do. So I found a little hiding place for this, but I'm still nervous. Anyways here goes. Oh, thanks for dropping me off. At least YOU were there for me. Wendy showed up a couple of minutes after you left. Can you believe it? She is still with that creep, Billy. I mean it was his stupid idea that got us into this mess in the first place. Anyways, Wendy joined me on the bus, and I had to fake a smile, as this wasn't the time to tell her how I really felt.
The bus slowly filled with women, most of whom looked like trouble -- and smelled like it, too. Then this pretty blonde walked onto the bus. She was dressed in a sexy red dress and red high heeled shoes. I almost laughed at how out of place she looked, while I also wondered what she did to get sent here.
Looking around, I counted twelve of us. The bus ride was long and quiet, with no talking, of course. I guess we were all thinking about just what was in store for us. The pretty blonde, meanwhile, used the trip to make sure her makeup and hair was just perfect. I tell you sis, I wasn't looking forward to two weeks of people yelling and screaming at me. And two weeks of wearing those uniforms! I wondered if the blonde knew that for the next two weeks she would be wearing pink shorts and a small white T-shirt, instead of sexy dresses?
Finally the bus pulled up to the brick building. Our new home. We all walked up the front way single file, through the front door, down a corridor, and into what must have been the gym at one time (judging by the old basketball nets that were raised up to the ceiling). The sun was shining through some windows in the roof. It made the gym sweltering in no time.
Once inside, we were met by two guards, a male and a female, and they both started to bark out orders. We each had to find the plastic basket with our name on it. It was kind of chaotic, especially with all the yelling and screaming. I just knew it!
Finally we were all standing behind our baskets. We were in two rows of six, facing each other, a couple feet apart. I was kind of surprised (what were the odds) that Wendy was standing next to me, looking petrified. We were on the end of one line. Two guards were standing by the door we had came in through, and I noticed the back doors were chained shut. I felt trapped. Even though none of them carried guns, I was sure that their flashlights and nightsticks should be considered weapons, so they still had "power" behind their badges.
The two new guards were walking back and forth, snapping at us here and there about our stances -- hands by our sides, palms out, shoulders back, chest out, feet well apart. Basically they were doing a bad Louis Gossett Jr. impression from that Richard Gere movie that you're always watching. (Except they were white.)
I have to say, though, that they were pretty intimating, if only by their appearance. He was bald, shaved clean, with a few scars. Also, tall and really built, which he showed off in a white muscle shirt and tight black pants. Basically, he was mean looking.
She was also tall, had to be a six footer herself. She wore a tight white T-shirt tucked into her black pants. It showed that she was in shape. It also showed the outline of her nipples, which made me cringe, 'cause if I could see hers, then when we wore ours.... I didn't want to think about it! Her too-short black hair was wet or slicked back. When she got in my face, I was surprised to smell perfume, as I was starting to wonder about her sexual preference.
She stepped back and told us to drop our handbags into our baskets. My heart began to race, as I had a bad feeling.
"Ok, you six on this side," she said, as she looked our way. "Remove all of your clothing and put it in the basket."
Gasps and moans quickly followed the order. I couldn't believe my ears, even though that's what I thought she might say. I knew we were going to relinquish our personal belongings after arrival -- that was in the forms that I had to sign at the courthouse. But never, sis, did I dream it would happen like this. I was looking around, dumbfounded, for a moment, and I guess most of the other girls were, too.
"I said, 'STRIP'!" She snatched her nightstick off her belt. The bald guard also pulled out his weapon. It was like a whip that a jockey would use. It also reminded me that HE was there.
"In front of him?" One of the girls on the far end moaned out, seemingly for me, or all of us.
"What! you don't think I've seen a pair of tits before?" He hissed, as he raced over in front of her. He punctuated his question with a whack on her thigh from his whip. She cried out, probably more from shock, than pain. I noticed the girl next to me was already down to her panties. She slid them off too, and I gasped as I realized just how naked they wanted us.
"At least we have one camper that knows how to follow orders," the female guard said, standing in front of the naked girl. She slid over to me. "What the fuck is your problem, are you deaf?"
"No ma'am," I managed.
"Then why ain't you naked?" Her face was inches from mine. "You too, honey pants," she said, glancing over to Wendy. We shared a roll of the eyes, before I kicked off my shoes and started disrobing. I'd dressed simply, because I knew I would be taking them off in front of someone. (Of course not a gym full of people.) First my sweatshirt (I left my bra at home 'cause I knew from the forms, they weren't allowed inside, anyways), then my jeans. I had the bad luck of being down to my panties when the bald guard moved over in front of me. He didn't even hide the fact that he watched as I peeled them down. Maybe he didn't have to.
With all my clothes in the basket, I was standing buck naked along with 5 other girls. I was using my hands to cover my body, and the others were doing the same. The guards seemed amused at our timid postures. With a bark, they ordered us to assume the stances that we had learned a couple minutes earlier. I'll tell you, sis, this stance was not meant to be done naked. I've never felt so exposed.
I was left looking at the blonde, standing across from me. She wore a look of dread on her face. She had to know that her line would be next. Before that happened, though, the guards moved in front of the first girl in my line. The female fished her shoes out of her basket, and examined them, and told her to put them on, saying something about the cold floor, which was strange, because it wasn't at all cold.
After she put on her shoes, they read her name off the basket and asked her why she was here. The female guard then put a metal dog-tag, like soldiers wear, around the girl's neck. Then they ordered her to turn around and put her hands on her knees. The female guard, meanwhile, changed her nightstick for a flashlight. I was listening to the instructions, but I didn't want to watch anymore, because I knew I was in line for the same humiliating treatment.
The next order, "Spread your cheeks," caused some gasps. Out of the corner of my eye, I found out what the flashlight was for, before they moved on to the next girl. My heart was pounding, as they dealt with the girl next to me. And then it would be my turn!
"Stay strong!" I kept telling myself, as I didn't want to lose it, before they even got to me. I wasn't really surprised to learn that the girl next to me was in for prostitution. Maybe that's why she knew the drill -- and didn't seem to mind stripping in front of strangers.
They moved over in front of me. It felt like my face was on fire. She pulled my shoes out of the basket, and I was thankful that I'd worn simple, open toed shoes that I could just step into. As she looked for my tag, she asked me about my crime. I had no simple way of saying it, so I just told her the truth -- about us stealing Davenport High's mascot for our senior week prank.
"No shit!" she gushed, finding my tag. "I read that in the paper. Didn't the thing die on yah?"
I just nodded my head, still embarrassed about it. "Man, isn't life a bitch?" she teased, as she applied my tag. It was now my turn to turn around and face the light. I cursed myself for letting Eddie talk me into shaving down there now, because I knew when I pulled my cheeks apart.... Well, at least it sped up the process, but it was still the most humiliating thing I've ever had to do.
It was Wendy's turn next. I know you know how shy Wendy is. She had to be just dying. She always complained about the size of her breasts. I tried not to look, but I was burning with curiosity, since, as long as we'd been friends, I'd never seen her naked.
