Well, it's been two months now of working as Ms. Hutchins' henchwoman. You know, despite her cruelty to the poor buggers who come in here, she is actually quite pleasant to work for. She is always patient and polite with me - I think because I've already lasted longer than any other receptionist she's ever had and doesn't want to lose me. She even shows genuine concern for my state of mind. We went to the tea room across from campus after work today, and she asked how I was dealing with the job, emotionally. I told her fine, but of course, she saw right through that. In her profession, she's learned to see through deceptions pretty reliably. She's really a remarkable woman. I confessed it was not always easy - after all, yesterday a guy came in that I knew as a friend of Brad's. He tried to be friendly - probably hoping I might somehow mitigate his predicament - but, of course, I couldn't in all conscience treat him any different than any other miscreant. All I could do was to nod sympathetically. I hope he understood, but I don't know. Brad and I are getting together with his friends this weekend, and I don't know how it's going to go if this guy is there.
Anyway, Ms. Hutchins told me her door was always open to talk, if I felt the need. It was amazing to me that she could be so harsh with the students and so kind to me. When I mentioned that, she shrugged it off. "Everything in its proper proportion, dear," she explained. I think she really, sincerely believes she is helping the offenders she deals with, that she is doing far more good than harm.
"We all need discipline in our lives, Lindsay. Without it, we drift aimlessly, or fall into detrimental habits. I merely supply that discipline in a manner which makes it stick. Everyone who walks in knows, deep down, that they lack that discipline, and crave for us to retore it to them. It's not easy, but they come anyway, don't they?"
You really think they want you to beat the daylights out of them? I asked her.
She laughed. "No - they want me to beat the daylight back into them. Mind you, you do get the occasional deviant sort who is seeking a kind of sexual thrill out of the experience, but they need my help, too. I can usually cure them of those types of cravings. If I can't, well, I won't cater to their desires. I send them away."
"Like that guy who came in today, for his fourth appointment?"
"You're developing a keen judge of character, Lindsay. Yes, like him. I think I got through to him today, but it make take another dose of the cane next week, together with the lexan paddle, before I'll know for sure."
Then we got into this long, weird discussion about why lexan and the hows and whys of how she goes about determining implements and punishments. In a way, Tessie, it was quite fascinating to listen to her. She is very dedicated and passionate about what she does, and has really studied her trade. She isn't just some sadist who snatches up a whip and starts swinging. To her, disciplining is a form of therapy, and has to be approached with dignity and respect for the ritual to make it worthwhile. It has to have a goal, beyond just punishment.
It was past dark before we finally got out of there, and I realized I'd forgotten all about Brad waiting for me at the restaurant. She really left me with my head spinning, and I am beginning to see Ms. Hutchins in a whole new light. As I said, she is really quite a remarkable woman.
As it turned out, I didn't have to run into Brad's buddy last weekend. Brad thought it was all quite funny. He said the guy was staying home to soak his buns in a cold sink of water. I assured him it was no joke, but Brad's one of those testosterone poison victims - I don't think he believes a woman capable of inflicting a serious level of pain on a guy unless he's a wimp. It could have turned into a argument, but it's not worth getting into a snit over. Let him have his precious ego.
Yesterday, I had to help Ms. Hutchins with one of the students. In his struggling, he had pulled an ankle cuff free from the punishment horse, and was kicking and squirming so much Ms. Hutchins was having difficulty applying the tawse. "I could send him away until it's repaired, but I believe we're getting somewhere here and don't want to let the effort go wasted. Would you mind holding his leg in place, Lindsay? I can't do both tasks at once."
I don't mind saying I was more than a little scared, sis. After three months, I'd never actually witnessed a punishment directly. I didn't want her to think me weak, so I agreed. She had me draw his right leg up under the bench, knee to chest, and hold it in place by leaning down on his back and locking my arms around his torso and curled up leg. This had the effect of forcing my face onto his sweating back, and I had a very unusual vantage of things as Ms. H wielded her strap - each time she drew it back, it looked like she meant to strike me in the face, but of course her aim was not so inept. Nevertheless, the tawse landed only 8 or 9 ninches from my face with a frightful sound. I could feel the guy's torso shuddering and heaving under me, and I had to struggle to hold his leg in place. I had the crazy urge to straddle his head and clamp it tightly between my thighs to subdue him. He was bucking hard against me, and rather than feel sorry for him, it actually angered me. If the idiot would just settle down, this would go a lot easier for him. By the time Ms H had done, we were all exhausted. She thanked me and I hurried back to my desk, only then realizing my nipples were hard as pucks and I was flushed with arousal. This disturbed me more than the plight of the student. Why had the incident made me aroused?