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Chapter 7 –First signs of metamorphism?
Dinner had concluded with a now chastened and much less defiant Charlie shifting her weight from one buttock to the other as she slowly ate the fish and fries that had been brought out of the kitchen for her. Mr Campbell, satisfied that his lesson had been effective, was slowly working his way through a piece of flame grilled sirloin steak cooked rare and a Caesar salad.
Charlie had sat in silence once Mr Campbell had outlined the rules of the house and her spanking had ceased. She was broiling with conflicting emotions. In pain, she despised the man smugly sitting next to her; she despised every reminder of his domination of her. From the kid's meal she had been served in lieu of the sumptuous steak, to the teddy bears and bunny rabbits adorning her bedroom – he had engineered this travesty and she hated him for it.
Her pain and hatred was almost equal to the sheer embarrassment she was suffering. Sitting in a child's chair at the table, dressed up in a light pink fantasy of lace, frills and ruffles - she felt humiliated. Even more so for the knowledge that tonight she would be sleeping under the teddy bear motifed coverlet in a bedroom to make the most feminine of little girls cringe. Gone was her comfortable room decorated with action posters of her favourite sport stars. Gone was her cable TV almost always switched to one of the twenty sports channels her father subscribed her to. No more comfortable jeans and blazers – they had been stolen by the servants and presumably destroyed. Her humiliation was complete and utter.
And yet during her spanking – during the stinging pain of Mr Campbell's firm hand, under the firm grip of the butler – again the butterflies in her stomach had swelled. Stronger than her memory of being pinned beneath Kyle, she had felt through that pain and humiliation, the hatred and embarrassment, a feeling of jubilant elation. A warm glow through her stomach reaching down, spreading through her thighs. Under the hand of this monster she had felt a feeling never fully revealed to her before. She struggled to identify its source and its meaning. She simply couldn't articulate in her own thoughts what that feeling meant to her, except that she thought she'd liked it.
For a second there, just a second, after that last blow had descended upon her satin covered panties, she had almost asked for another smack. Just one more, to bring that feeling back.
Instead she had resumed her seat once Bosker had released her and now she shifted her weight about to try and alleviate the pain in her bottom from the unyielding hard wood of her little chair.
The meal was cleared away by the maid and Mr Campbell enjoyed a snifter of brandy. Finished with eating he began speaking again. "Tomorrow you will meet your first tutor. She has been retained to teach you manners, deportment and protocol. I expect you to do your utmost to please her." He paused awaiting for a reaction from Charlie. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Do you understand me?" He asked firmly.
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes sir." Charlie was too conflicted at the present moment to push the boundaries any further with Mr Campbell. She would have to consider her position and feelings before she chanced her hand against this man again.
"Good Girl. Now get yourself to bed, it's getting late. Madeline will help you to your room." With that he picked up the evening paper and began to read through it, continuing to sip on his brandy.
Dismissed, Charlie stood and began gingerly walking after the Maid as she directed Charlie back down the hallway toward her new bedroom. On reaching the room the maid indicated that she should change out of her clothes into the pyjamas that had been laid out on the bed. She also showed Charlie where the laundry chute in the bathroom was where she could deposit her dirty clothes. It barely even registered with Charlie that the chute was too small for even her delicate frame to wiggle into.
The door closed behind her and locked, leaving Charlie alone in her private nightmare for the night.
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Charlie woke stiffly to the sun shining through the lead lit flower window. Her memories of the previous night's dinner still disturbed her. Mr Campbell, she still refused to think of him by his first name, had informed her of his rules.
There were many of them - but only one punishment, to submit to whatever punishment he prescribed...
She had received her first taste of his brand of punishment when she had thrown her apple juice over his jacket. Taken by surprise she had been forcefully thrust over the edge of the table and spanked on her satin panties. She hadn't been spanked ever, even when she'd lost her father's car keys when she was seven.
The ignominy and embarrassment of being spanked like a little girl in front of the maid and the butler had shamed her to the core. Yet she had also felt again those butterflies in her stomach. The feeling of exhilaration that she had felt when pinned to the ground by Kyle, she had felt that again last night. Bent over the table, dressed up in lace, ruffles and frills like a little girl and spanked forcefully on her bottom.
What was happening to her? I'm Charlie – the best pinch hitter in my baseball team, the best 3-point shot at school. I'm Charlie, I beat most boys hands down at anything and everything they do. I'm Charlie, I'm in your face, I ain't going to take your attitude…
She dragged herself out of bed and walked into the bathroom, a shower would help her recover and get her head around the last twenty four hours. She shed the cotton sheep-print pyjamas that had been provided to her. Last night she'd considered not wearing them, but the thought of Mr Campbell watching her in the night through his camera while she was naked convinced her that her modesty afforded this small loss of her dignity.
She finished showering and brushing her teeth just as the Butler's voice came over the speaker from the bedroom roof. "Twenty minutes until school time Miss Charlotte – you had better get dressed, I've put your clothes in the wardrobe for you to wear."
Clean and somewhat resolved to the day ahead after her initial period of confused waking, she walked to the dreaded wardrobe. Last night it had given up that hideous pink dress; what did it have in stall today?
Again it proffered the hairbrush, ties and comb together with wide red ribbons. She walked to the mirrored dresser and began putting her hair up in pigtails.
"The Master indicated that you need to put them up higher on the sides of your head Miss Charlotte, they'll fall out otherwise."
"Shut-it weirdo – at least if I have to put my hair up into these gay pigtails, I'll do it how I want."
"I'm sorry miss Charlotte, I'm going to have to give you a black spot."
Mr Campbell had explained the Merit Board to her last night as she was bent over the table suffering under his firm hand. When he wasn't there, the staff could give her black spots and gold stars. Spots were meted out for breaking the rules while gold stars were rewards for good behaviour. A copy of the merit board sat in a photo-frame next to her bed. It contained a lightweight computer screen, similar to a PDA, providing her with a constantly updated summary of her transgressions. Mr Campbell carried a similar screen with himself.
To her chagrin a black spot appeared on the board next to today's date.
"Fine, I'll make sure they're nice and high for you asshole…" she mumbled to herself.
"What was that Miss Charlotte – you do know it's not polite for good girls to mutter to themselves, would you like another spot?"
"No sir." She responded quickly.
Not a stupid girl, Charlie had resolved to comply somewhat with the wishes of her captors, at least in the short term. She was more likely to be able to check out escape opportunities if she was seen to be relatively willing and agreeable. Not too agreeable however, a seismic shift in her demeanour overnight was bound to attract attention.
"I said I will make sure they are nice and high for you sir."
"That's better young Charlotte, now you had better get a hurry on, your tutor will be here in ten minutes."
Her hair finished, the wardrobe now offered up a pair of white socks, this time with scarlet lace trimming and a new pair of shiny scarlet Mary Janes. She also found a peculiar pair of white cotton panties.
Similarly to the satin and lace panties she had been forced to wear last night, these were fringed with white lace around the waist and the legs. The front of the panties had been embroidered with a cute teddy bear. However, the truly intriguing part of these panties was that down the inside of the crotch ran a length of Velcro.
She didn't have time to contemplate the panties much further as the Butler hurried her up over the intercom. If she kept the tutor waiting, he told her, he would be forced to black spot her again. Anxious to avoid any further punishment than was already coming, she hurried into the frilly panties, socks and shoes.
The wardrobe, which she was quickly coming to despise for the horrific creations it offered up, now contained a large box. Opening it revealed a scarlet sailor suit. A wide white collar, bordered with scarlet squared off behind her back, it then ran over her shoulders and met at the front to be topped with a big red ribboned bow. A white seam gathered in around her midriff, just below her bust, while the scarlet puffy sleeves where again contrasted with white edging. The skirt descended down, again to her knees and along the hem it was bordered in startling white. The skirt itself was bustled out by a set of petticoats, bulking the skirt out to make it appear even more feminine and girlish.
'Thank god there's not as many ruffles and lace this time' she thought as she put on the scarlet sailor suit. She'd barely finished struggling into the dress by the time the maid opened the bathroom door.
"Ready for school Miss Charlotte?" The maid asked.
"Yes. Charlie is ready, thankyou" Charlie referred to herself in the third person, just to drive home the point that although she was clad in a ridiculous sailor suit straight out of the JC Penney catalogue from 1932, she was certainly not about to start referring to herself by that dreadfully prissy name her late mother had imparted on her.
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