This is a serialized work of fiction with all characters over 18. In this chapter Abby Collins, new innocent inductee of the academy faces a rude awakening and meets her classmates as life at the academy gets underway.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Go on, Collins, it's time"
Miss Morgan put her gloved hand on my back and gently pushed me forward into the room. Through the steam rising from the open showers against the far wall, I could see other girls, soaped and wet and showering. The steam rose to the high ceiling and hung in the shaft of sunlight falling through the high, barred window. Some of the girls talked in low voices, hushed as they washed and filed out, each taking a gray robe from the single line of hooks on the far wall.
"Strip her, Jeffries." Miss Morgan said, and a larger, red-haired girl stepped forward to grab my wrist. She yanked me forward toward a single open stall in the corner of the room, separate to the communal area where the old iron shower heads sprayed onto the last of the girls.
"Arms out," the girl, Jeffrries, said without a hint of friendliness or ceremony. She worked quickly with her rough hands, lifting my pinafore dress first. Then the tight white blouse. The corset, zippered up the side and now mercifully released. I was left standing, trying to cover my breasts, in my "correction panties" as Miss Morgan had called them the other day. "Brace," Jeffries commanded. I didn't know what that meant but she suddenly yanked the panties and their inserts down and out of me. I gasped. "Hands on the wall." I glanced around and saw her inspecting them up close.
"You dirty little, bitch," she snapped. "You're wet. Look at these things. You're not supposed to like it! Is she Miss Morgan?" Jeffires whirled around looking for a confirmation from Miss Morgan, now striding toward both of us with a stern, disapproving look on her face. Morgan snatched the panties from Jeffries and took one quick, conclusive look.
"Get her cleaned up, properly, Jeffries. You know what you're doing."
Jeffries grunted and turned to me. She yanked a long, brass chain to my side and in an instant freezing, ice cold water rained down on me.
"Hands stay on the wall, legs spread now."
Shuddering and gasping from the ice water already, I could barely think or respond. I was just about to say something, to try and reach for the chain, when she kicked my legs astride and reached for something hanging in front of me, by a single brass hook. "Wha.. is that?" I tried to shake the water from my hair, matting into my eyes. But Jeffries didn't explain. She grabbed the long wooden handled scrubbing brush and in one single movement, dragged its course bristled head between my thighs. I flinched at the first touch, and then it got worse. As she scrubbed rapidly, relentlessly back and forth, the pain, searing, became unbearable. My legs trembled and shook uncontrollably.
