Three drab and dreary years I passed in this institution, submerged in an atmosphere of repression and humiliation which was fairly soul suffocating.
My complete lack of adaptability to the manual work assigned to new arrivals made me the special target of persecution by the female warders. My delicate physique and small hands and tiny, pointed fingers, so patently incapable of performing scullery work, laundering, and floor scrubbing with any degree of efficiency seemed to kindle their resentment.
Quick enough to show fight at first to these manifest injustices, I soon learned that, right or wrong, I was always on the losing end and that the slightest indication of insubordination brought punishment of a heartbreaking nature to say nothing of the loss of certain prerogatives and so called privileges which were greatly prized in this barren place and which were accorded only to those who accepted their fate with the proper show of humility and servility.
The first two or three months were a perfect nightmare of horror. Let me make myself clear, the sufferings were more mental than physical, for there was little or no actual physical brutality. Corporal punishment, though authorized for incorrigibles, was rarely resorted to.
I do not think there were more than half a dozen whippings inflicted on girls during the entire period I was in the institution. These whippings though, when they were administered, were something not to be forgotten.
In addition to the humiliation of being forced to lie face down across a massive table with her panties removed, the blows inflicted on the victim's naked bottom were of such severity as to cause her to shriek with anguish. Five or six or seven times during my incarceration my face blanched at the sound of those shrill cries, intermingled with the dull slap, slap, slap of heavy leather against naked flesh.
However, time reconciles us to any misfortune and we become hardened to the inevitable.
As this institution admitted only minors, many of whom were girls not over fifteen, educational facilities were provided and there were four hours of classes daily, except Saturdays and Sundays. I discovered that in study there was a surcease from the deadly monotony. I had never been very studious; in fact, during the year proceeding my commitment my interest in learning had waned almost to the vanishing point.
Now, however, I found that time devoted to study passed very quickly.
It was something like a mental narcotic which kept one's thoughts from useless repining. My application impressed the teachers and matrons favourably, and gradually they became friendly and treated me with greater consideration. And, if it be true that every cloud has its silver lining, the silver lining in this one was that I received an education which I would otherwise never have possessed.
I passed the probation period and was relieved from further scullery work. It would be carried on by new unfortunates, two or three of whom appeared each week.
We slept in dormitories or wards, each ward a long room with from twenty or thirty narrow iron beds in a row. These wards were locked at night, and a matron slept in each one, locked in with her charges. In addition, there was always a night superintendent on duty, who could be called in any emergency.
At nine o'clock each night all lights excepting a dim one near the ward matron's bed were turned out and no conversation was permitted between girls after that hour. Our movements during the day, except in school or work hours, were fairly unrestricted within the confines of the building and grounds, but at seven o'clock we entered our respective wards and were allowed to talk, read, and attend to our toilet necessities. At nine we had to be in bed and cease all
conversation. As it was impossible to fall asleep immediately, the hour which followed was probably the most disagreeable of the deadly routine. By ten o'clock most of us had found peace in slumber.
But there was a variation to this feature to which we always looked forward. The ward matrons were rotated weekly between dormitories.
And, as is sometimes the case in correctional institutions, there are occasional kindly hearted individuals who, instead of exercising the last ounce of their authority to make life as miserable as possible for their unfortunate charges, are disposed to mitigate their wretchedness when possible to do so at no great cost.
A certain matron who slept in our ward one week in every five condoned whispered conversations after nine o'clock, even though it was against the rules. Another, also with us one week in every five, was a very sound sleeper and snored so loudly we were never in doubt as to when she was asleep. So, during the weeks when either of these two matrons were on duty we were fairly safe in exchanging whispered conversations as late as we wished. When the snoring matron was on duty we told naughty stories or exchanged venal confidences.
Occupying the bed on my left side, with a space of about four feet between us, was a girl named Hester. She was but a few months older than I, but much more so in experience. She was taller than I and very pretty. Her hair, which almost reached to her knees when unbound, was that beautiful shade of auburn which just misses being black by the narrowest margin. She had been very nice to me from the start and had given me much kind and useful advice. She was philosophical in her attitude and possessed of an extremely likeable personality.
Nearly all the girls in this reformatory owed their commitment to delinquencies of a sexual nature. Hester had been taken out of a house of prostitution.
She questioned me as to how much money I had been accustomed to get for the bestowal of my favours and when I told her, ruefully, that though my last and fatal adventure had brought me ten pounds, I had rarely gotten over ten shillings, frequently far less, and sometimes nothing at all, she exclaimed:
"Why, you little fool! With your form and baby face you could earn fifteen or twenty pounds a week. In the place I was last I got a pound every time I did it beside what the madam got, and lots of times I got more than that! Why, you were just a little charity chippy!"
One night, taking advantage of the snoring matron's somnolence, we whispered stories and experiences until eleven o'clock. The ward lights were out at this hour, but the shaded lamp near the matron's bed gave just enough light to break the darkness. Hester suddenly kicked off the bed coverings and, stretching her legs out lasciviously, exclaimed:
"Oh, Lord! For a good stiff cock!"
I murmured some sympathetic rejoiner as, lying on my side facing her, I observed her pretty round legs dimly visible in the half darkness.
"Gee, don't you ever get that way, Jessie? Sometimes I want to fuck so darn bad I nearly go crazy!"
"Who wouldn't, locked up in this miserable place month after month?"
I answered gloomily.
She sighed, and after a moment of silence, whispered:
"Did you ever kiss the baby in the boat, Jessie?"
"Did I ever what?"
"Kiss the baby… suck another woman."
"No!"
"I never did, either. But there are girls here that do. I sucked a guy's cock once. I didn't like it much, but if I had one now I could eat it alive."
She giggled faintly.
"Well, I don't know what you're going to do. Go hungry, I guess."
"I darned well know what I'm going to do. It's better than nothing!" she exclaimed, and arching her legs she placed a hand over her cunny and began to rub it vigorously.
From around us came the sound of suppressed giggles, sighs, and the movements of other listeners as they stirred uneasily in their own narrow beds.
I watched the rapid movement of her hand, dimly visible in the partial darkness. And when, with a groan of satisfaction, the movements ceased, my own hand edged down between my legs and under discreet cover sought to quench in like form the fires her frank words and franker actions had aroused.
What she had said about girls who did certain things was true. To be caught in another girl's bed or in any other compromising circumstance indicating that something of this kind was going on was one of the things that girls could be whipped for, and two or three of the whippings which took place while I was there were for exactly this cause.
Nevertheless, something of this kind was going on most of the time without the matrons knowing about it. Sometimes the girls would take a chance in the night time while the ward matron was asleep and get two in a bed, but this was very dangerous because the switch which controlled the lights was right near the matron's hand, and she could flood the room with light instantly should she hear any suspicious sound.
There was a safer way. In each ward there was a linen-room where clean sheets, pillowcases, towels, and extra blankets were kept. It was a very small room, mostly filled with shelves, but there was a little extra space. The doors to these closets were kept locked, but the keys were in the possession of linen-room girls, or trusties, assigned to distribute towels, sheets, pillowcases, etc., as needed in their respective wards.
If satisfactory arrangements could be made with a linen-room girl, the door would be left unlocked, and when two lovers had slipped inside unobserved by matrons, she would lock the door, leaving them inside for half an hour or so, and when the coast was clear, let them out and lock the door again.
Some weeks before my entry in the reformatory, there had been a linen-room rendezvous of this kind in another ward and the lovers had been caught. It came about through a peculiar accident. A matron, coming down the long corridor between wards, saw a girl she wished to speak to entering a certain ward. She followed her, but when she got inside the ward the girl she had seen was not visible, which mystified her, and with good reason. The girl she was following and a companion were already locked inside the linen closet. Seeing the linen-room girl standing nearby, the matron asked her if such and such a girl had not come in a few moments before.
"No, ma'am," was the reply. "She isn't in here. She must be out in the yard, or downstairs."
"But I'm positive I saw her come in here not half a minute ago!"
"It must have been someone else, ma'am!" answered the frightened girl.
"Someone else? There's no one else in here but you! What's going on here, anyway?"
The puzzled matron glanced around the empty dormitory. Her eyes fell on the door to the linen room. She went to it and tried it. The door was locked.
"Give me the key to this door," she requested.
"I… ah, I've lost it, ma'am!" stammered the poor girl.
"Give me that key!"
Inside the linen room two trembling lovebirds were listening to the ominous conversation. Naturally, when the matron opened the door and found not only one girl but two, she grasped the situation and both the lovers and the linen-room girl were strapped over the table in the superintendent's office and whipped on their bare bottoms.
For a while after this a watch was kept on the linen rooms, but the vigilance gradually relaxed and now they were being used again with considerable frequency.
There was Heloise, whom everyone called Frenchy, who would suck another girl off for any trifling payment. And several others who were known or suspected of similar complacencies.
Hester, who had become my special pal and confident, used to joke with me in her dry, half comical, half serious way, as we sat on the edges of our beds at night before lights out.
"Darn you, Jessie, you give me a hard-on every time I see you undressed. I believe I'll sneak into your bed some night and give you a good fucking."
"I don't think you've got what's needed!" I replied, snickering.
"Well, I could gamahuche you, anyway. Do you think you'd like that?"
"Gosh, I don't know. Two different fellows I went with did it to me that way. I don't know how it would be with a girl."
"Must give one a funny sensation to have another girl do that to you.
There are women who pay for it that way. And maybe you don't believe it, but there are even some that will pay you just for letting them do that to you, without you doing a thing. Some people have the funniest ideas."
I told her about the fellow who had paid me to whip him.
"That's nothing," she replied, "there are lots of men like that. The ones you have to be careful about are the ones that want to whip you. Some of them go crazy and whip you so hard the blood comes. They don't care how much they hurt you."
"Why, I wouldn't let them whip me!" I exclaimed, horrified.
"Well, when you're in a sporting house you have to do everything and pretend to like it. Those fellows who do funny things are generally the best spenders. They're always springing something new on you, too," she continued, "the best paying regular I had was one of the funny kind; you'd never guess what I had to do with him."
"Tell me, Hester!" I begged.
She began to giggle.
"Well, there really wasn't much to it, but it was so… so… crazy, I nearly went into hysterics the first few times, until I got used to it. He'd lie down on the bed and make me get on my knees, straddling him, right over his face. Then I had to jack myself off with my fingers, and just when I started to cream, put my cunny down on his mouth. And will you believe it, right then he'd start to squirt without my even touching his cock, and the stuff would fly all over my bare back."
"My heavens!" I breathed.
"I couldn't sleep last night," she continued, changing the subject. "I laid awake the longest time, just imagining things, and thinking what I'd like to have the first night after I get out of here."
"I can guess," I said dryly, "a stiff cock."
"No; five of them, all at the same time."
"Five? At one time?"
"Yes; one in my cunny, one in my mouth, one in my bottom, and…" she burst into laughter, "…one in each hand!"
"Hester, you're the limit!" I exploded.
"I get so darn tired of jacking myself off I've half a mind to go in the linen-room with Frenchy. She's crazy about that new shoulder scarf I have, and it's no good to me in here, anyway."
"Well, why don't you?" I suggested. "You can tell me all about it afterwards. But be careful! I'd faint if I ever heard you getting the strap."
"Maybe I will. There isn't any danger. They don't watch the linenrooms much. Besides, I thought of a dandy way to fix things so they couldn't catch us. I saw Amy and that new girl she chums around with sneaking out of the linen room in ward five this afternoon. I had a suspicion that's what Amy was up to when she started being so nice to that little kid."
"Jessie! Jessie!" I heard someone calling softly as I was sitting on a bench in the exercise yard reading the next afternoon. I glanced up, and saw Hester hurrying toward me. "Frenchy and I are going in the linen room. You come up and stand in the corridor where you can watch the stairs! If any of the matrons come, you signal the linen-room girl before they get upstairs, and she'll have time to get us out before they reach the dormitory!"
"All right!" I agreed, rising to follow her.
This was a very practical plan. The ward was far enough from the top of the stairway to allow ample time for them to get out of the linen room should the girl on watch in the doorway receive a signal from me. The only risk they ran was that of being abruptly interrupted in their affair.
I followed Hester up to the corridor and stationed myself where I could watch the stairs and at the same time be seen by the linen-room girl in the doorway of the dormitory who, in the event that I suddenly started to walk toward her, would quickly warn Heater and Frenchy.
But there were no interruptions. I stood there twenty or twenty-five minutes, watching the stairs and picturing in my mind what was taking place within the linen-room. The girl finally disappeared from the entrance and I knew she had gone to unlock the door.
A few moments later Hester and Frenchy appeared in the corridor.
There was nothing in Frenchy's calm demeanour to indicate anything unusual, but Hester's face was scarlet and she was holding her handkerchief over it. Frenchy sauntered coolly into another dormitory and Hester went on downstairs with me and out into the yard.
"Well…?" I invited, after waiting for her to say something. "How was it?"
"Oh, Jessie! It… I… she… wait till I get my breath…" and she began to laugh hysterically. When she recovered her composure and her face had resumed its natural hue, she said: "I can't talk about it yet; I'll tell you tonight. Look: my hands are still shaking, I'm so nervous!"
"Oh, all right," I answered disgustedly, "but I don't see what you have to be nervous about now."
"It's the reaction. Don't be sore; I'll tell you all about it tonight, honey!"
And, that night, sitting close together on the edge of my bed before lights out, at my insistent urging, Hester told me in whispers what there was to tell.
"Well, we got inside, and as soon as we heard the door lock we turned on the light and took our panties off and hid them under some sheets on a shelf so in case we had to come out quick we could just leave them there and get them later. Then we put a blanket on the floor and I laid down on it. Frenchy wanted to do 69 but I told her I didn't want to do it that way because I couldn't get my nerve up to do that to a girl. So she said all right, she'd just do it to me. It was the funniest thing, Jessie, all last night and today, while I was thinking about it, I felt hot, but no sooner did I get inside that room with her than my passion all left me. I felt like telling her I had changed my mind and letting her keep the scarf anyway. But then I thought, what a silly thing to do after going to so much bother, and why not let her go through with it. When she pulled my dress up I started to giggle, I couldn't help it, I felt so funny, not passionate, just silly. Well, she squeezed in between my legs, and stuck her tongue right up inside. When I felt it go in I wanted to push her away, but I didn't and after she put it in and out a while, she began to lick me all around down there, and then she started to suck my bottom. I thought I'd go crazy, really. I couldn't stop laughing. It didn't make me feel passionate, but the sensation started to come anyway, and sure enough, she did make me cream something fierce. If she'd have stopped then it wouldn't have been so bad, but she stuck to me like a little leech and it set my nerves on edge so, I felt like scratching her. I almost had to yell at her to make her let go. She wanted to know when I'd let her do it again; I told her 'someday' but I don't think I ever will. It isn't so hot. I don't see how some girls can go batty over that kind of stuff."