Reforming Little Anya Read online

  She slapped the nurse’s hand. “Paws off, bitch! I can dress myself.”

  * * *

  Ivana Klinski was a very kind and caring person; that’s why she became a nurse. She was not prone to angry outbursts, and she didn’t speak English. But she had learned a few words recently from some tourists. She knew that word, that it had two meanings—one was a female dog, but the other was not. She didn’t appreciate a willful young lady using it in that context and striking her! So, without another word, she acted.

  Sitting on the bed, she pulled Jessica over her lap. Holding her tight with her left arm, she raised her right hand high, and brought it down hard and fast.

  Smack! A large red handprint appeared on Jessica’s right cheek. A moment later, a matching one was added to the left. After that, Ivana set up quite the rapid pattern of spanks.

  * * *

  Jessica was shocked. Never in her life had she been treated so. By the age of six, she’d had her dad wrapped around her little finger, and never been disciplined in any way, even a timeout. This not only hurt, it was also humiliating. Not only was she over this idiot’s lap being spanked like a child, but her feet barely touched the floor, her hands were nowhere near it, and the door was open! Anyone passing in the hall got a great view of her nearly bare behind quickly getting red.

  “Unhand me, you mental pygmy,” she shouted. “I am not a child, and I will not be treated this way—ouch!”

  “You are a very naughty and willful child, and that will change, starting now,” Ivana scolded, not letting up for a moment.

  Between their mutual shouts and the sounds of the spanking, it wasn’t long before quite a few of the staff came to see what was going on. They all snickered and moved on, and Ivana kept spanking. Jessica struggled to get free, but her small stature made that impossible. Her attempt at blocking led to Ivana pinning her hands behind her back. Finally, Jessica decided to exercise the better part of valor.

  “Okay, okay, I be good,” she said, parroting the broken English she’d heard them use.

  Ivana gave her a few final hard smacks, and then stopped, but did not release her. Jessica grew concerned. What is the bitch up to? She strained her neck to see, and saw the nurse stretching to reach the table. She got a rectal thermometer, lubricated it, parted Jessica’s red cheeks, and slid it home.

  “Whoa,” Jessica gasped, her eyes popping wide. “What the hell? Get that out of me!” she demanded, and started squirming.

  “Be still,” Ivana ordered, and gave her another hard spank.

  “Ouch! Okay, okay, just hurry.”

  Jessica’s face turned bright red; now she had four red cheeks. The humiliations just kept piling up. She made up her mind: When she got back to the States, she would see to it that this woman was fired. As the minutes ticked by, she could also see the nurse prepare a shot. Finally, close to five minutes later, she withdrew the thermometer. Jessica heaved a sigh of relief, and then jumped slightly as she felt something cold dab across her right cheek.

  “What the—? Nooo, my arm, give me the shot in my arm! Not in the as—ouch!” she started to ask, then gasped and her jaw dropped as she felt the needle jab. “Why, you bitch, you’ll pay for that.”

  Now she’d done it. It was clear the nurse had had enough. Pulling Jessica to her feet, she marched her into the bathroom, Jessica rubbing her stinging seat the whole way.

  “I don’t know much English, but I know that word, and you, little lady, must learn to not call people that,” she scolded.

  Jessica was confused for a moment, but then, as Ivana soaped up a washcloth, the light bulb came on.

  “Oh, crap! No way, no, you’re not—glub.”

  She was cut off as Ivana stuffed the cloth into her wide open mouth. Jessica reached for it, but Ivana easily pinned her hands. She then seated herself on the closed toilet seat, sat Jessica on her lap, and clamped her legs around hers. Jessica wasn’t going anywhere. She tried to spit the cloth out, but Ivana’s hands were much bigger than hers; she held Jessica’s wrists with one and the cloth in place with the other.

  “Now, you keep that in your mouth, little lady, or else,” she ordered.

  Jessica still didn’t understand a word, but the intent was clear, and she meekly nodded. Ivana then deftly spun Jessica around in her lap, bent her over her left thigh, and re-clamped her legs. Jessica gasped, even as her hospital gown slid down and off her body. She was now buck-naked and helpless!

  Smack! Ivana again spanked her. Jessica screamed into the soggy cloth, kicking her tiny feet in protest. On and on it went, until finally, Jessica broke. Between the pain, the humiliation and embarrassment, and the mouth-washing, she lost it and started sobbing. At this point, it now seemed the nurse was satisfied. She released Jessica and allowed her to spit out the cloth and rinse, and then led her by the ear and still naked back to the bed.

  “Get dressed,” she said, pointing at the clothes.

  Again, Jessica understood, and she quickly put them on. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she was taken aback. She truly looked about twelve or so; all she needed was a pink ribbon in her hair to complete the ensemble. As far as she was concerned, the sooner she got out of this hellhole, the better!

  A throat-clearing at the door caught her attention and she turned, and gasped.

  “Holy shi—cow! Who the hel—heck are you?”

  A giant filled the doorway, at least that’s how it seemed to Jessica. The woman looked to be about eight feet tall to Jessica, and her rippling muscles suggested that she bench pressed Chevys for a living!

  Chapter Two

  “Ah, Misha, there you are,” Ivana said with a smile.

  “Yes, I certainly am,” she replied, giving Ivana an even bigger smile. “So, is this little Anya?”

  “Yes, and let me tell you, she’s going to be a handful.”

  Misha’s brow wrinkled. “How so?”

  Ivana launched into a full report on Jessica’s antics since she awoke. Misha stood and took it all in, gradually frowning as she cast her eyes up and down the small woman standing between them. It seemed the young American lady was going to be as much trouble as the Russians had been. Her grandfather had often spoken of the Soviets ‘liberating’ the country during World War II, forcing communism on the people, and then the big one, invading in 1968 to crush their first attempt at freedom! From what Kelly had told her, this woman would be worse for their town than a division of Soviet tanks. Still, Misha made herself a promise: She would treat Jessica decently, but firmly.

  “Well, well, well, an ill-mannered girl with a foul mouth, eh? Not to worry, I believe in a loving hand that is also a strong one, and Kelly has given me a full report on her.”

  Ivana grinned. “Then I leave her in your most capable hand.”

  Ivana left, and Misha turned her attention to Anya.

  “So, you’re Anya Holstein, I am Misha Palicka, Palicka means pounder in English. As some of the girls at the home will tell you, I can ‘pound’ them when necessary, but only when they deserve it. You may call me Miss Palicka or ma’am.”

  * * *

  Jessica was taken aback; someone who was fluent in English, finally!

  “Oh, thank God, someone I can actually talk to,” she said, heaving a huge sigh. “Look, lady, this is all a big misunderstanding. My name is…”

  Misha stood and listened to her story. “Goodness, little one, what an active imagination you have. You should consider being a writer. Now, come along, we’ll get you to the home and settled into your new room. Ours is a small home, only two dozen girls, so you get your own room.”

  “No! Oh, crap, what can I do to convince you I’m telling the truth?”

  Misha grabbed Jessica by the arm and marched her out the door and down the hall. “Anya, the sooner you drop this silly story, the better for you.”

  “Ohhh, brother, another idiot,” she grumbled.

  Misha stopped and spun Jessica to face her. “Young lady, insults like that will earn you a double
dose of the paddle! This is the first and last warning you’ll get about that.”

  Jessica actually jumped in surprise. “Oops. I forgot that you spoke English. I was so used to the moro—people here. Okay, I’ll watch it.”

  “And?”

  “Ahhh, oh, I’m sorry,” Jessica said, very halfheartedly.

  “And…?” Misha said slowly, crossing her massive arms over her equally huge chest.

  Jessica’s brow wrinkled. What else did she need to say? She chewed her lip for a moment, and then it came to her. “Oh! Ah, I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “Good, better, now don’t forget it.”

  After that, it was out to the car for the drive home. It wasn’t easy on Jessica; her ass was still sore from the first and second spankings of her life. That was another item to add to her agenda: Avoid future spankings. It shouldn’t be difficult.

  As they rode along, Jessica let out the occasional grunt and yelp at each bump in the road.

  God, where is this home, in the next town?

  Finally, they arrived. Jessica grinned; escaping from this place would be a cakewalk. A high wrought-iron fence was before them, but the gate stood wide open, and they drove through. The building was large, brick, and clearly many years old; decades of ivy clung to its front. A four-car garage stood off to the left, which they were headed for, and some sort of garden was on the other side of the building; she hadn’t gotten a good look at it. As they parked, Jessica looked over the garage; it was quite the dilapidated old shack, and all manner of lawn and garden equipment filled it. She hopped out of the car, glad of the ‘glute relief,’ and saw two other cars, in varying states of disrepair. It was clear neither could run and were being used as spare parts.

  So much for stealing one of them. Oh, well, I don’t know how to drive. Ah, but what if I learn? Hmmm, that idea presents possibilities.

  Her jaw dropped as she turned to take in the backyard. Many of the girls were outside, some playing (there was even a simple swing set) and others working in a garden. Jessica had never seen girls so big! It was clear that they were all at least eighteen years old, and not one of them looked to be more than twenty, but nearly all of them were bigger than she.

  No wonder ‘Miss Hannigan’ didn’t believe me when I insisted I was twenty-eight. God, what do they feed them?

  “Girls, come over here, please, we have a new member of the family,” Misha called out.

  The girls stopped what they were doing and raced over to encircle the pair. Jessica actually felt a bit intimidated and stepped closer to Misha, even as her brow wrinkled in confusion.

  “Hey, you spoke to them in English,” she said.

  The girls giggled. They were all very happy, and it didn’t seem as if they were laughing at her, which mystified Jessica. They were orphans and outcasts, what did they have to be happy about?

  Misha grinned. “Yes, Anya, we’ve taught the girls English, it’s quite the international language. Plus, many of the girls hope to travel to America to work or attend university. So, knowing English is useful. Girls, this is Anya Holstein, she’s going to live with us from now on, and I expect you all to make her feel welcome.”

  The girls swarmed her, hugging and kissing her; some even lifted her off the ground.

  Goodness, what’s wrong with them? Sheesh, they’re so damn sweet I almost feel like I need to brush my teeth.

  When the welcome routine was done, Misha dismissed the girls and led Jessica inside. They passed through the large kitchen, where three women were in the midst of cooking dinner. While not as big and tall as Misha, they still towered over Jessica. She felt very small and inadequate. She also crinkled her nose. The food sure smelled spicy! They passed what looked like an oversized high chair, and Jessica did a double take.

  Man, an adult could sit in that thing. Well, a normal-sized adult.

  Going up a back staircase, they passed the large communal bathroom, and then came to the bedrooms. Jessica glanced in each as they walked by. Some had two beds, some only one, and each room had clear signs of personal tastes and preferences: posters of rock bands and movie stars, etc. What she didn’t see were any truly modern conveniences: TV, iPod, laptops, DVD players, and so on. Finally they came to a snug room with one bed and a window that looked out toward the garage.

  “Here you go, Anya, this is your room. There are plenty of clothes in the dresser,” Misha explained, pointing at the small wooden dresser. “I’m sure you can find some things that fit. We have sewing class twice a week; you can learn to make and alter your own clothes. Dinner is in an hour. As the new girl, it’s your turn to set the table. Report to the kitchen; the cooks will tell you what to do.”

  “Sewing? Setting the table? Are you serious?”

  Misha raised an eyebrow. “What, did you not do that at home? You didn’t have chores?”

  “Chores!? Certainly not. Jesus Christ, this place is a nut house.”

  “Anya, do not take the lord’s name in vain! That’s another punishable offense,” Misha said, and picked up a book from the small bedside table. “This is our rule book. I suggest you read it tonight. Violation of a rule will result in punishment. Do I make myself clear?”

  Jessica swallowed hard. “As crystal,” she replied, and then, as an afterthought, added, “Ma’am.”

  “Good. See you at dinner. You’ll meet Mr. Craznik then. He’s the director,” Misha replied, and turned for the door.

  Jessica heaved a sigh of relief. Yeah, getting out of here would be easy, and I’m going to do it ASAP.

  She made a quick survey of the room. No lock on the door or window, a small closet, dresser, wall-mounted mirror, desk and chair, and bed and bedside table. The clothes were mostly her size: dresses, skirts and blouses, some jeans and t-shirts, and then underwear. No bras. The rules were easy enough to digest: make bed, keep room clean, take dirty clothes to laundry room, help set table, study and do homework, help in garden, clean the house and grounds, help in kitchen, etc. There was one good one that put a smile on her face: help maintain the car! That could prove most useful. She looked at the small clock on the bedside table. Between it and her stomach, she knew it was close to dinnertime.

  Heading down the stairs, Jessica made her way to the kitchen. Introductions followed, but she paid little attention to the names. She wouldn’t be around long enough to learn them. Still, she knew she had to ‘play ball.’ She got to work setting the table. It was long and narrow, a good fit for its room. As she tossed the plates and silverware about, she heard the wooden floor creak behind her. Spinning around, she saw a smiling girl in the doorway.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Iva, I thought I’d come and help you.”

  “Help? Yeah, great, thanks,” Jessica replied.

  She promptly slowed in her efforts because Iva was like a human dynamo, or maybe the Energizer Bunny’s sister! And all the while, she kept that insipid smile on her insipid little face. She stood a head taller than Jessica, looked about eighteen, and then there was her build: broad shoulders, strong legs, and a good solid frame. Not fat, but she made Jessica look like a scrawny supermodel by comparison.

  “Iva, why the big smile? I mean, come on, this is a chore!”

  “Smile? Oh, that. One thing Miss Palicka and Mr. Craznik taught us is to be grateful for every day we’re alive. Life is a gift, never squander it.”

  Jessica rolled her eyes. Sheesh, what morons.

  A few minutes later, a bell rang out, and everyone was called in to dinner. Jessica took a seat near the end of the table, right next to Miss Amazon. On top of that, she was still sore, and the wooden chair seemed especially hard. Then, at the head of the table appeared a man. He was tall—well, to Jessica everyone was—and well-groomed, with chiseled features and soft hazel eyes. If she was herself and not Anya, she’d be stringing him along in the vain hope he might get lucky. Introductions followed, and she learned he was Mr. Viktor Craznik. The older girls served the food, and then sat. Jessica couldn’t believe what
she was seeing: potatoes, vegetables, and some sort of bratwurst-type meat.

  God, no wonder these people are so big.

  The food neither looked nor smelled especially tasty, but Jessica was starving. So, she picked up her fork, and promptly got a slap to the back of her hand from Miss Sourpuss.

  “Bow your heads,” she ordered, looking right at Jessica.

  Everyone brought their hands up in prayer and bowed their heads. Jessica, not wanting to cause trouble, did likewise. Mr. Craznik said grace, and then they all started eating. Jessica wolfed down some bread and butter and found it to be delicious, but then tried the main dish and gagged.

  “Jesus, what do you put in this, a pound of salt?”

  A series of gasps echoed around the table, and Viktor frowned.

  “Anya, hasn’t anyone spoken to you regarding the lord’s name?”

  Misha nodded. “Yes, I have. Now, Jessica, eat up, we don’t waste food here.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. Forgot about that. But this food, it’s way too spicy. Come on, don’t you have something milder?”

  “This is our ‘daily bread,’ Anya,” Iva said softly. “We are thankful for it, and enjoy it.”

  “Yeah, well, the bread is great, but I can’t eat this other stuff.”

  “Anya, I will only say this once, you will eat, you will eat everything,” Misha ordered. “I believe the Americans say, clean your plate.”

  “Yeah, that’s what we say in America, but I’m not eating this crap!” she shot back.

  Viktor made a slight motion with his right hand, the gasps again echoed around the table, and Jessica suddenly felt strong hands grab her from behind.

  “Take her to ‘The Chair,’” he said casually.

  “Hey, what the hell? Let go of me,” Jessica snapped, trying to look around.

  One of the cooks, who looked like she could be a lineman for the NY Jets, hauled Jessica away from the table. She struggled, trying to break free, and saw Mr. Housemaster following, carrying Jessica’s plate. The next thing she knew, she was in the kitchen and being sat in the high chair. The other two cooks watched and sadly shook their heads to see her strapped in at the waist, ankles, and wrists. A tray was set in front of her, and then her plate was put on that.