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“Yes, exactly.”
* * *
The first girl to be published in Jane’s official disciplinarian role at Birchbane is Penelope Boadicea Fortunum-Smyth. Jane is well prepared and has reviewed the headmistress’ notes, which are very clear. MissFortunum-Smyth has missed many of her classes, preferring to sunbathe. She has shown an unbecoming attitude to many of the staff, and she is in the process of failing her first year. She will need a significant adjustment to her attitude. Jane is confident she can help in that matter.
A tap at the door heralds the arrival of the girl in question.
“Come in,” Jane calls out, as she has so many times before.
Miss Fortunum-Smyth steps into the room and closes the door behind her. She looks slightly worried, but she has a great deal of composure and meets Jane’s eye without issue.
“Hello, Miss Strict,” she says. “I’m Penners.”
“Miss Fortunum-Smyth, come stand in front of the desk.”
“I will absolutely not.”
Jane is surprised by the young lady’s sudden strident resistance. She does not know her well, or at all, but there is some artifice about it, almost as if it is not truly in her nature. Jane has met many recalcitrant young women in her time. This one’s tone does not match her demeanor. She is more nervous than she is letting on, and her body language belies her words.
“Young lady, you will do as you are told this instant, or you will make this discipline session a great deal more painful than it needs to be.”
Penelope’s eyes dart about the room, settling on the canes and paddles and such. She seems to be considering her next words carefully, but when she speaks, that illusion is banished.
“I am not afraid of yourlittle props,Miss Strict. I understand that you like to talk a big game, but we are not on a boat bound for a colony now. This is quite a different kind of ship.”
If she were given to expressing astonishment, Jane’s jaw would drop.
* * *
Storm is fucking delighted. She decided to follow after Penners to see how events unfolded and is now listening at the door, loving every second, and absolutely every syllable.
“I've been informed how you operate, Miss Strict,” Penners declares.
“I do not believe you have,” Jane replies. “Certainly not accurately.”
“You will not be laying a finger, or a piece of plant on me today, my good lady,” Penners insists. “I am above such things.”
Storm covers her mouth in the effort not to snort. That last part was supposed to be subtext, but Penners has no tact. This is going even better than she had imagined it would.
The sound of heels on the wooden floor as Jane draws closer gives Storm a clenching sensation. She draws back from the door, half afraid she has somehow psychically been found out.
The absolute outrage in Penners’ voice as Jane presumably takes her by the ear reaches peaks that seem to echo throughout the chalet, and quickly reassures Storm that Jane is thoroughly distracted.
“Unhand me, woman!”
The request is clearly not honored. Instead, a series of short, sharp slaps echo out into the hall.
Storm can’t see what is happening, but it is clear that Jane must have abandoned the cane, which requires some level of cooperation from a disciplinee, and has instead resorted to the application of some kind of more easily handled paddle.
When Jane speaks again, it is quite close to the door, enough to give Storm a little shock. Her tone is very stern and quite grim, more serious than Storm has ever heard it.
“When I give you a direction, young lady, you follow it. Do you understand me?”
“Yes!” Penelope howls.
Penelope quickly gives in after that point, and soon finds herself across the desk for the cane, which Storm also enjoys immensely, to the point of wrapping her arms around her sides in the effort to stifle fits of giggles. It is fun to get revenge on a rude girl, and she can only imagine Jane’s face when Penners started talking about colonies and calling the canea little prop.This has gone so much better than she had imagined it would.
It is all very enjoyable until a frosty voice interrupts her mirth.
