College Behavior Advisor Ch 05

I gather up my professional gear, give Zia a last hug, and depart for my next behavior correction appointment. Not forgetting to take the Student Behavior Board's official sign from Zia's dorm room door:

Official Discipline in Progress

Do Not Enter

-----

Merri's second disciplinary appointment of the day will begin in less than 15 minutes. Snow accumulates this chilly morning. Six inches deep as she strides across the commons. She zips her hunter tan and green parka tight and pulls a matching knit cap close about her ears. Icy flakes clinging to the fabric. Duck boots keep her feet warm.

Merriweather Cradle is an official Consequences, Behavior, and Academic Advisor at Margaret Thatcher College. She earned her Master's degree summa cum laude in Applied Corrections at the College last year. Her position is universally known on campus as "college disciplinarian."

Merri loves the mountains and tall woods that surround the college and the Blue Popcorn Springs area in the northern Rockies more than she ever loved the equally cold area of the Berkshires in Western Massachusetts she once called home. Hot springs richly endow the local country like, well, spilled popcorn.

After a brief stop at her office to refill her official disciplinarian's kit bag with water, tissues, and a special bra, Merri arrives at the young woman's dorm.

Faye Bogan's room is on the second floor. Merri knows Marharyta, the floor's Resident Advisor, ("RA,") because Merri has administered discipline to five of Marharyta's charges this semester. As is the Behavior Advisors' protocol, each time she requested Marharyta's follow-up in the form of a bedtime spanking. Merri sat in with Rita, as Marharyta is known, the first few times the newbie delivered quick, motivating bedtime spankings for any of the many reasons bedtime spankings are routinely administered at MTC. Rita showed a prowess that spoke well of her mother's tutelage. A heritage of maternal spankings is a history (a 'herstory'?) many female disciplinarians share.

After bedtime spankings, Rita dispenses comforting cuddles and forgiveness, creating a nurturing environment. This is aftercare Merri deems essential for a corporal punishment to transform into an effective behavior changing tool.

Rita turned on the dorm's public notice system earlier. It tells non-students, such as parents, they are not allowed on the dorm's bedroom room floors and wings during an official punishment. Students, dorm residents or not, have

no

such restriction. Indeed, the College hopes they will listen and learn. Sometimes they get to watch and learn.

Merri reaches Faye Bogan's room, her heart and her professional mind filled with determined anticipation. She knocks on the door, the sound echoing along the quiet hallway. Faye opens the door; her eyes widen as she sees Merri standing there, the living symbol of official authority and discipline. A woman who has 'visited' her before. In Faye's eyes, Merri was graceful and unexpectedly kind, unhurried yet stern.

Faye remembers her promise to Miss Cradle at the last visit to behave with self-discipline. Miss Cradle's presence signals Faye's failure to keep her promise to this woman.

Without a word, Merri hangs the Official Discipline in Progress placard on Faye's door and enters. Her presence projects to fill the small space. Faye's eyes dart around nervously, her hands trembling, as if seeking the non-existent back way out. Merri takes a step closer, into Faye's space. The room seems chillier, as if the snow outside has seeped into Faye's bones.

Merri's boots crunch against the floor, a sound that echos in the tense silence. Her gaze sharpens on Faye. She knows that this disciplinary session is crucial, a turning point for Faye's behavior. A punishment for a repeat offender must be sterner in all regards than an initial correction. Such is one of the many lessons learned in her Master's program.

Merri's default professional persona is kind while purposeful. She offers a hand and her heart to help a misbehaving student. "We'll get through this together." While her helping hand will be present for Miss Bogan, Merri vows to herself, the dominant theme she must project is a stern headmistress. Or a deeply upset mother.

"This will hurt terribly, Miss Bogan. I'm sorry it has come to this. Remorse and discomfort will be your lot today. Yet, I know you, young lady. You will survive it and. And this time we will find your core of self-discipline and turn on the grow lights."

Merri removes her cap, allowing her shining mahogany hair to flow smoothly down to her shoulders, framing her long Nordic face. In one swift motion, she removes her parka and places her kit bag on Faye's messy desk. Faye's eyes widen more in response to these displays of authority, displays of ownership of the space.

"Unless I am much mistaken, you are the same Faye Bogan I counseled in this very room not a month ago. Your student ID please, for the official audio." Merri sets her tablet to record. Upon inquiry, she is told that Faye is not on her period.

"This counseling experience must differ from our last session, young lady. While I will help you get through it, and you will not be permanently physically harmed, there must be much more soul searching on your part." Checking Faye's full college record on her office computer that morning, Merri remembers Faye is a young woman drifting, future course uncertain.

Faye is repeating misbehaviors, exposing behavioral patterns. Excess (any drinking is excess in MTC terms) drinking, slacking off, disrespect and disobedience. All but the slacking off and some expressions of disrespect are acts the world around Margaret Thatcher now punishes fiercely and quickly under the nation's new laws.

Faye's most acute misbehavior today involves a physical altercation with another student. Specifically, an incident in the showers when both girls resorted to hair-pulling. Merri strongly suspects Faye's alcohol consumption is a leading indicator of escalating misbehavior.

Merri detests alcoholic misbehaviors, although she totally gets that alcoholism is a disease. A close family member is in AA. Several more need to be there. A drunk driver killed her youngest sister. She, herself, is in Al-Anon.

Vulgarity, idleness, and disrespect are the misbehaviors that parents have long sent their daughters to Margaret Thatcher to have rooted out. Since its founding in 1911, the College punishes its young women with lines, detentions, and in- and after-class corporal punishments. What College catalog terms, "thoughtful, proven corporal punishment consistently applied by credentialed professionals."

Faye's room is awash in pinks and pale greens, stuffies, and celebrity posters. Dirty clothes, an unmade bed, a slew of trash, a whiff of pizza, what might be spilled beer, and a dank scent, likely from Faye's dirty clothes, permeate the room. The contrast with the smell of lilac candles in Zia's room earlier this morning is stark. Faye's room was not a pigsty the last time Merri visited her, she remembers.

"Did you read the Notice of Adjudication the Student Behavior Board sent you, Miss Bogan?"

"Ah, um, yes. Yes." Faye replies, while shrugging and toying with her unbrushed hair. Merri's gaze is unmet by Faye's lowered eyes. A liar's evasions.

Faye has a square shaped butt, Merri recalls. She owns a nice overhang that often accompanies this type of bottom on slim women she learned in her graduate program's Women's Anatomy class. Below Faye's orange gym shorts Merri sees proportionate thighs for a mildly curvy 5'2" woman. Thighs that will be easy to tenderize to fiery pain with her disciplinarian's strap. Thighs which call for deep blows to impart long lasting bruises and a lasting reminder. Merri formulates her campaign's tactics.

Faye's B cup breasts gently poke through her canary yellow tee shirt. No bra. They should be easy to fit in one of the College's correctional bras, which come in the official school colors of sage green and rose. Those colors are not the most flattering choice for Faye's pale olive skin.

"Did you read the Student Code's mandated Punishments, Consequences, and Enhancements sanctions for your violations, Miss Bogan?"

"Sure. Well, I mean, they must be the same as the last time they caught me with beer." Faye gives another shrug.

"So far, Faye, you have lied to me twice. The convictions are not the same. For two reasons. One conviction is a second offense. Another is a new offense. Worse, you lied. First to your RA and then to the Board, and now twice to me. So, the range of punishments and enhancements is, politely said, 'more'."

"'More?' Ma'am? Um, what..."

"Stop right there Miss Faye Bogan. You had a chance to mentally prepare yourself, but you chose to ignore it. Just as you are not adequately preparing your homework. Worse, failing to develop self-discipline. Look at the mess in your room."

-----

Let's Be Candid

-----

"Unless you contest your convictions, we begin immediately. Do you wish to appeal?"

"No."

"No, what?

"No, I do not wish to appeal. Ma'am."

"Better. Let us begin. Remove all your clothing. Now." I accompany my words with a finger snap.

Reminding her of our previous session, I emphasize she had been granted the freedom to choose the extent to which she would disrobe initially. However, "that privilege is now revoked."

Faye meets my order, with slumped shoulders, a sign of resignation rather than defiance, I conclude. Eventually, I will bring her to acceptance, then understanding. The cause of Faye's inertia, whether shock, denial, or a mere delay in comprehension, is irrelevant to me. Step one. She must obey.

"Strip. Now."

Faye's trembling hands reach for the hem of her tee shirt and drags it over her head, confirming she is not wearing a bra. Cute, small, erect breasts, which I prefer because mine are petite, too. Small for my height, that is. Larger than Faye's. All of which is an idle thought I need to banish from my mind. This young woman needs my focused help.

Her shirt lands on the floor in a heap, as if unwanted. Which it is for our purposes.

"Young lady, I remind you what I told you the last time: failure to comply with the instructions of a disciplinarian inevitably results in quite uncomfortable extra punishments. Or, and you are headed in this direction, Miss Faye Bogan, a return visit from me."

I point at her shorts. Dark orange, with the "Pink" logo. I move into her personal space, my eyes locked on her, a predator closing in on its prey. She might view it that way; I prefer the metaphor of a teacher glaring at a student who fails to live up to expectations. A student for whom there is abundant potential.

Faye's breath audibly quickens. She ploddingly pulls off her shorts. After a brief glance at me, and evidently seeing my displeasure at her dillydallying, she drops her lipstick-red nylon panties and toes them atop her tee and shorts.

Her choice of synthetic-fiber, tight fit panties is consistent with her other clothing. Today, not with her wardrobe the last time we met.

Faye's resistance is eroding. Her skin, bared to me, if not yet to the world, is an open canvas awaiting my touch, my influence. Her mind is not similarly open to me. It will be, I vow.

Her room becomes my stage, my spotlight trained solely on Faye's exposed form. I circle her, my presence a shadow that engulfs her lightly quivering figure. She stands naked, stripped of her modesty defenses. There is no escape, only the reality of what awaits her.

"For the record, and because you didn't read it with care, Miss Bogan, here is your notice.

-----

_____Margaret Thatcher College_____

---------- Notice of Adjudication ----------

FROM:

TO:

Faye Bogan

, Second Year, Teresa House

DATE: September 28, 20XX

The Student Behavior Board, acting on the misbehavior referral from Mistress Swift, Dorm Mother of Theresa House, unanimously finds you:

1. Guilty of Code violation T2, Consumption of Alcohol in your dormitory. Repeat violation. Consequences raised to Level 2.

2. Guilty of Code violation T4, Conspicuous Inebriation. Consequences: Level 2.

3. Guilty of Code violation. T18, Physical Altercation. Consequences: Level 3.

The Student Behavior Board, acting on its own reference, unanimously finds you:

4. Guilty of Code violation D1, Disrespect, General. Consequences: Level 1.

Consequences to be administered

consecutively

unless otherwise determined within the sole discretion of the Consequences, Behavior, and Academic Advisor.

Consequences are to be

enhanced

as required by the Code.

Consequences for conviction of

Disrespect, General

are to be served

consecutively

or

concurrently

with the consequences for all other violations, or

at the sole discretion of the Advisor.

Assigned Consequences, Behavior, and Academic Advisor:

Merriweather Cradle, B.S., M.A. (Applied Corrections).

-----

"Faye Bogan, the next step is your color photographs. The 'before' and 'after records. There are two additional photographs mandatory today. Stand against that wall," I tell her, pointing at the least cluttered wall space.

"Differences?"

"Face the wall, hands on head.

"Spread your legs apart.

"Twice that far apart.

"More."

Finally, she spreads her legs broadly, as I instructed. This series of short orders is not about perfect poses for her candid shots; my purpose is to create psychological vulnerability.

I take the series of required photos. First of her back, from whole body to one focusing from just below her waist to her knees. One a close-up of her butt, which is the square, thigh-gapped, taut bottom I remember. A prime target today, if not the only one at all.

The official photos feature a shot taken from a unique angle, almost vertical, the camera positioned just behind her knees. This perspective directs the focus up towards her intimate area. The deep valley formed by her inner thighs highlights the territory between her anus and clitoris. Her thigh valley walls that will receive my meticulous attention today. Although it may seem inappropriate to admit, I can't help but be curious about the colorful transformations that will be revealed in the 'after' photographs.

"Okay, Miss Repeat Offender. Here is the first difference. You may need the experience of ginger root or essence of hot pepper oil in your rectum today. Ah, my bad. Anatomy euphemism word. Your asshole."

"What? Ma'am. I don't ... You can't ..."

"Young lady, I may and I will, if needed. Or simply as an enhancement to what the Student Behavior Code mandates for your unruly misbehavior. If I were you, I would try very hard to do what I tell you. Immediately. Obediently. Most important for your progress, without reservation. Do you understand?"

"But I've never..."

"Stop right there, young lady. Anytime a woman being disciplined uses a word like 'but' it signifies her resistance to obedience and her refusal to acknowledge the necessity of her correction. It is exactly the sort of disrespect that earns young women consequences such as the searing heat of butt plug ... or an extra behavior modification session tomorrow. Do you understand now?"

"Ah, yes. Yes, Ma'am."

"Missy, bend right over, with your legs as wide as they are now. That's good. Now, hold your butt cheeks apart for the camera. This is your 'before' candid. If we determine you need some 'wake up and smell the flowers' attention to your anus."

She obeys, tortoise like but without an actionable delay.

"Good. Smile." I comment. "Sorry about the humor, Faye. I know this is hard. I'm worried that you seem not to have learned anything from our first session." She makes no response; it wasn't a question.

"Okay, you may stand up and shake any kinks out. I want you to turn around and face me. Keep your hands on your head."

When she does, I take the usual series of full body and close-ups of her breasts and groin, and the obligatory angle-up from knee-level crotch shot. An "up the kilt" photograph, without benefit of the kilt. The color of her pussy thatch is dark brown, and as disordered as her room. Waxing pubes to bare is not a disciplinary tool the College embraces. Yet, thank goodness. The local sheriff's office's matron relishes it, I'm reliably told.

"Here is the second difference, Miss Bogan. Open your mouth as wide as possible."

I see her pause, think about speaking, then resign herself and open up. A pretty set of teeth and morning breath hit me as I get in tight for a couple of shots.

"Miss Bogan, I approve. You chose not to question my order. I will tell you why we are taking shots of your mouth. Mouth soaping is likely in your immediate future."

"Oh."

"Has anyone ever taken the time to give you a mouth soaping?"

"No. Um, no, Ma'am."

"No worries. I was top in my class in mouth soaping. There are many types of soap and ways to administer a soaping, from simply yucky to yuckier and then yuckiest. Your acceptance of your need to change your behavior will go a long way to determine the method of soaping we choose for you today, young lady.

"Okay, last photo, the 'before' of your mouth filled with such beautiful teeth. Teeth you haven't brushed yet this morning. We will take care of that.

We're done with the official color photographs.

"Our next step presents you with an opportunity to reflect upon the changes necessary to modify your behavior. You are going to stand facing the wall across from your door. In the hall. For ten minutes. Fully undressed just as you are now. This is one consequence of being a repeat offender. No private corner time in your room for you, young lady.

"A significant difference between this first wall time and today's later ones will be the extensive visual marks and deep color on your skin as your discipline progresses. Oh, and you will probably be crying."

"Oh." Very muted, only the noise of a breath.

"Look, Faye. I want to help you. I picked a time for this session when most of your dormmates are likely to be in class. Probably only one or two girls will see you naked, spanked and paddled. I considered scheduling our meeting for, oh, 5 pm. When everyone would be milling about. For sure and certain, if we meet again, you will spend a lot of time standing naked in the public hall in front of my official office in the Student Center. You know where the disciplinarians' offices are, don't you?"

"OMG, Yes, yes I do. I'm sorry. Please. I'll do anything to avoid that."

"Do you remember how you should address me, Faye Bogan?"

"Sorry, sorry. Yes, Ma'am. I do."

"We will discuss exactly what you need to change as this lesson continues today.

"If anyone comes by and wants to talk to you, tell them you are not permitted to talk. Point them at the official sign. Ok?"

Faye agrees with a 'yes, ma'am'. If Faye is like me, she is awash in imagined 'what-ifs'. Her mind races with uncertainty. Her actions led her to this moment. The consequences will seem harsh. The thought of being exposed, vulnerable, and humiliated in front of her dormmates sends visible shivers down her naked body I can see from my vantage point sitting in her room. The hallway, with its institutional fire doors at either end, its walls closing in on her as she stands there, is silent. An overcast sky visible in the few hall windows is a depressing note. Every second will seem an eternity, stretching out before her like a gray sky across an equally gray ocean. The imagined whispers and judgmental glances of her peers feel, in the confines of her mind, like sharks' fins cutting through her already fragile confidence.

All these roiling emotions if I have done my job of intimating them. But, and this is a reaction I seek, she cannot help but wonder/know: She deserves this correction.