Reforming Little Anya Page 9

  “Yeah, go figure.”

  “And this ticket?” Viktor said, holding it up.

  Crap! Think, Jessica, think, there has to be a plausible reason for you having it.

  “Ah…”

  Brilliant, you moron.

  “And why did you try to get on the train?”

  “Ahhh, I thought I saw someone on it.”

  Viktor frowned. “Not your father again, I trust.”

  “No! I thought it was one of the other girls,” she said quickly.

  “Ah-huh. Again I ask: Why did you buy this ticket?”

  “Well, I was hoping that someday I could travel back to Prague, and since I happened to find myself at the station, I thought I’d buy the ticket while I had the chance. After all, sir, I’m not allowed out in the village all that often.”

  “Ah-huh. Come with me, Anya, we’re going outside,” he said, getting to his feet.

  Jessica chewed her lip. Why did he want to go outside? She figured she should obey. After all, to refuse would only get her in more trouble. She got to her feet and followed along, hopeful that the elaborate scheme she’d set up would save her ass. As they moved down the hall, Jessica heard whispers among the girls. Several times she heard the term ‘The Box’ and wondered what it meant. She swallowed hard. Somehow, she had a feeling it was not good.

  Once outside, they headed to a small shed, and Jessica noticed that the cooks were right at their heels.

  Oh, this is so not good!

  * * *

  Viktor was trying to be patient with Jessica. In the short time that she’d been with them, he’d found himself developing real feelings for her. He felt like a mentor, an uncle, perhaps even a father figure for her. And he’d also seen some real progress in her. However, her acts today, they were a major setback. It was clear this young woman was still void of morals and a conscience. Stopping at the door to the shed, he pointed inside.

  “Misha will deal with you, young lady,” he said.

  * * *

  ‘Deal’ with me? Oh, yeah, so very not good.

  Jessica hesitated, and the cooks swooped in to take her by the arms. In an instant, they were through the doorway, and the door slammed behind them. Jessica gasped. There was a box sitting dead center in the room, and it had restraints. Standing next to it, holding a stout cane, was Misha.

  Jessica swallowed hard, struggling in their grip. “No, wait, you can’t do this! I didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, I didn’t do anything bad on purpose.”

  They were unimpressed. The cooks were easily able to bend her over the box and strap her down. Jessica heaved and bucked, and then shuddered as Misha moved into position. She felt the tap, tap, tap of the cane to her jeans-clad bottom, and her teeth chattered in anticipation of pain.

  “Anya, I want you to know, I take no pleasure whatsoever in doing this, but it must be done. This punishment is reserved for only the most severe of crimes, and we’ve not had to do it to one of our little girls in… well, four months. But not only have you lied and deceived, but you’ve also committed theft, and that is a crime we simply cannot forgive. Stealing is wrong, little girl, and it’s high time you learn that.”

  “It’s not true, it’s not true, I didn’t steal anything. I paid for the ticket,” she complained.

  “With what money?”

  “The money I earned! You remember, you got me the jobs in town, and I did them perfectly. I didn’t get one single complaint from anyone, did I? So, I did not steal!”

  Crack! Misha brought the cane down with a firm swing. Jessica gasped.

  Good God, that pain is worse than anything I’ve ever known. It took a second for her mind to process it, and then she howled.

  “That was another lie, Anya. So, you’ve earned yourself another punishment,” Misha said.

  Jessica strained to look, and saw the cook move to a small laundry sink in the corner. She started to soap up a washcloth, and Jessica groaned, knowing what was coming. Opening her mouth to protest, Jessica froze, and a thought came to her.

  “How… how do you know I’m lying?”

  Misha moved close to her head, and bent down. In her outstretched hand, Jessica saw something. It took her a moment to focus on it and figure out what it was: a U.S. dime. Where had that come from?

  “This coin, it’s very special to Viktor, it has his year of birth on it, and a cross on the back,” she said, and flipped it over. “So, he recognized it.”

  “It was among his other coins, wasn’t it?” Jessica said softly.

  Misha nodded. “Yes, which are all gone, and which means you stole all of them. You have committed the worst crime any little girl in our care can, Anya; you have destroyed our trust in you.”

  She moved once more into position, and Jessica heaved a sigh, and then gagged as the soapy cloth was shoved in her mouth.

  Ack, what a horrid taste.

  Before she could even try to think of something to say, the cane fell again. She bit down on the cloth, water and soap spewed forth, and then the next stroke landed. Stars danced before her eyes, as she felt as if a rod of hot steel had been struck across her. Struggling was pointless, and yet she did it. She figured, later, when she could actually think, that it was due to pure instinct. Her mind and body were desperate to escape the punishment she so richly deserved. Yet, it was all pointless; she stayed right there until Misha had given her a full two dozen strokes. The first was for the theft, the second for the lie.

  Finally, as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks, she was released and allowed to stand before Misha. At this point, rubbing was out of the question. Besides, it was also forbidden, as was removing the cloth, and there was no way she was going to dare defy Madam Ogre now.

  “I have never been so severe with anyone, Anya, and I truly hope I never have to do this to you again. However, know this, if we catch you in another lie, you will get a mouth-washing and a spanking every night for a week! Is that understood?”

  Jessica positively shook with dread at her words, and immediately nodded. Only then was she allowed to remove the gag and rinse her mouth. After that, Misha helped Jessica back to her room and let her lie down.

  Lying there, barely able to touch her stinging seat, she took stock of her situation and her life. She had hurt these people, and after all they’d done to try to help her. Jessica’s conscience was growing stronger. However, it was still inferior to the monster that squatted at the pinnacle of her soul. For one thing, she had yet another reason to despise these people. While Misha had been caning her, Viktor was in his room doing up a new ‘Wanted’ poster. This one, Jessica later learned, now informed the townsfolk that Anya was to be brought home if she was caught walking the streets unaccompanied. No note would save her from being detained and returned from now on.

  Rising up on her elbows, she ground her teeth. No, they’re not helping me, they’re unfeeling ogres, through and through. Revenge is what I want, and I shall have it!

  A gentle rap at her door broke her out of her pity party, and Jessica turned slightly. It was Misha, and she was carrying a bowl of soup.

  “You missed dinner, Anya, and I thought you might be feeling hungry.”

  “Oh. Ahhh, yes, thank you,” she mumbled, and started to rise.

  As she grunted in pain, Misha swiftly moved to her side, and gestured for her to stay down.

  “No, no, child, you stay down. Here, I’ll help you.”

  Jessica’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I… ahhh, okay.”

  And so it was that Jessica lay in bed and Misha sat next to her, and gently fed her. As painful as her poor backside was, that simple act of kindness actually hurt more, because it was a stroke to her soul. That night, Jessica cried herself to sleep, and it wasn’t due to any physical pain.

  * * *

  Later that evening, Misha and Viktor called Kelly. She was feeling better, but the doctor had not yet cleared her to fly home. They discussed Jessica’s progress and lack thereof. On the one hand, Viktor felt this incide
nt was a setback to her growth and improvement of character, but Misha didn’t agree.

  “As I was feeding her, I’m sure I saw genuine remorse in her eyes. I think today was a major breakthrough in her growth.”

  “Viktor, what’s your opinion?”

  He paced about for a moment. “I… don’t know. Jessica seems so completely devoid of conscience. I think she could lie through her teeth, as you Americans say, and still sound sincere.”

  “I don’t agree,” Misha said. “Remember what the Father has always taught us: The eyes are the window to the soul. I looked into her eyes, I saw a twinkle there.”

  “Yes, but what caused it?” Kelly said. “Was it regret, or rage? Do you think perhaps we should call this off, I come get her, and just take her home?”

  Silence. Viktor chewed his lip, and Misha stared off into space.

  “Kelly, let’s give it a bit more time,” he said. “Our Easter celebration is next month, and it is a glorious time to be here. Let us see how she reacts to that. If we see signs of true change in her, I say you let her stay. If not, we’ll put her on a plane for home.”

  “I agree,” Misha said.

  “Very, very good, my friends. I agree. Let us hope that she continues to grow into a better person.”

  * * *

  Jessica nursed her poor bottom for a couple of days, and also used it to gain more sympathy from the girls.

  Ah, they are such simpletons!

  It did not work with the ‘jailers’ at all. So, one morning, she decided to try a new tack. When Misha came into her room, she rolled over (so as to protect her ass), and painted as sickly a look as possible on her face.

  “Ohhh, morning, ma’am,” she groaned.

  “Anya, are you all right?” she said, moving to sit on her bed.

  “I don’t know. I think I’m sick. I feel hot and cold all at the same time.”

  Misha put her hand on Jessica’s forehead. “Hmmm, you don’t seem to have a fever.”

  “Ohhh, but I’m sure I’m sick. I feel like I’m going to throw up at any second.”

  “I see. Well, don’t you worry, we’ll check you out, and get you better in no time.”

  She left, and Jessica sat up. What’s she up to?

  Jessica got her answer a few minutes later when Misha returned with a small tray. There was a bottle and spoon on it, and some other items. She recognized one as a thermometer!

  Damn, I wasn’t expecting them to have one of those around. I thought sure a sick girl would result in a call to the doctor. After all, a couple of days ago, when one of the other girls got sick, Viktor had brought the town doctor to see her, and she’d been babied for days.

  “Ahhh, ma’am, I don’t like thermometers, they make me gag. The way I feel right now, I’d probably puke all over you.”

  Misha set the tray down and sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh, there’s no problem there. Just lie on your tummy, and I’ll take your temp the best way.”

  Jessica’s jaw dropped. Holy crap, she’s planning to take it… that way!

  “No, no, no, no!” she squealed, practically curling up into a ball. “Absolutely not. You keep that thing away from me.”

  “Anya, you do as you’re told. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. So, your choice,” Misha said firmly.

  “I will not!” she shouted.

  Misha was as fast as a cobra. In a flash she had Jessica by the arm, and a second later she was over Misha’s lap and she was undoing her dropseat. Jessica bucked and squirmed, trying to escape.

  Smack! Misha’s hand connected with her bare little bottom.

  “Anya, stop it, settle down and be a good little girl. You’re only making this harder on yourself.”

  “I won’t, I won’t. You let me go this instant,” she commanded.

  “All right, you asked for this.”

  Misha let her have it. Her firm hand slammed into Jessica’s bottom over and over again, even as she struggled to escape, and squealed like a cat getting a bath. Then a new wrinkle was added: the girls. All her carrying on attracted their attention. Iva and several others dashed to her door to see what was the matter. Oh, the humiliation. It was bad enough getting spanked in front of them, but—when Jessica finally broke down and gave up—they got a great view of her getting a rectal temperature taking. To their credit, they wanted to leave and preserve her privacy, but Misha ordered them to stay. She said it was important they see what happens to a naughty little girl who didn’t do as she was told.

  Finally, after what seemed like about five hours, Misha withdrew the thermometer and read it. “Huh, normal.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” Jessica choked out between sobs. “I still don’t feel good.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you don’t. Not to worry, we have a fine old-fashioned cure for the ails of little girls,” Misha said, lifting her to her feet.

  Jessica rubbed furiously, and dreaded learning what that might be. Misha picked up a large bottle and the spoon, and poured a huge gob of… something. She held the spoon before Jessica’s mouth.

  “Open,” she ordered.

  Jessica just knew she was going to regret it, but the throbbing in her ass was a great motivator to comply with Madam Ogre. Slowly, reluctantly, she did, and the spoon was stuffed in. Instant displeasure rippled through her mouth and down her throat.

  “Blahhh! What the hel—heck is that?”

  Misha smiled, as she put everything away. “Castor oil, a very powerful curative for girls with non-descript ailments. One dose, and it seems they’re ‘inoculated’ for life. Now, you get dressed and get down to breakfast. I’m sure you’ll want to eat now.”

  Jessica stood there, coughing and gagging again and again, desperate to spit the horrid stuff out, but there was no escaping that foul medicine. It seemed the old ‘calling in sick’ routine was a done deal here.

  Man, these folks are good. She nodded to Misha. “Yes, ma’am. You got any really spicy meats today?”

  “I think we can find something to satisfy you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Jessica appeared to improve. While she was still bored in the regular classes, Viktor delved into other subjects: honesty, decency, and concern for others. He taught the girls that to have a friend, a person had to be one. Jessica had no friends, at least not back in America. He told them that everyone was created equal and had within themselves the power to make the world a better place. Jessica had never done anything to improve the world, at least not for anyone else. He told them how people should live by the rule of what was best for the greatest number of people, and yet still respect the needs of the few. Yeah, Jessica had learned that—she’d always respected her needs, and no one else’s. And finally, he lectured them on how all things in life, in the world, changed except truth, and that truth alone lived forever. The lessons seemed to touch Jessica.

  She was also eating better, working in the garden, and exercising. As a result, she started to actually develop a figure. After so many years of starving herself as a means of controlling her life, she was finally living a healthy lifestyle. She got some muscles, curves, and a fine figure. Of course, as she was an adult, she would not grow any, but she found herself liking the new her.

  But then, one afternoon, she found herself feeling bad—for real. She didn’t want to chance another dose of Misha’s ‘cure-all,’ but she was in genuine pain. They were all out working in the garden, and she walked up to Misha.

  “Anya, are you all right? You have such a pained expression,” she said, the concern clear in her voice.

  “I don’t know, ma’am. I… well, I feel a little… off.”

  “Here, come with me, and we’ll check you over,” she said, taking her by the arm. “Girls, you all stay here and continue working. We’ll be right back.”

  They headed inside and up to the bathroom. Misha had Jessica sit on her lap, and then she checked her over. When she poked and prodded her stomach, Jessic
a couldn’t help herself; she both giggled and groaned.

  “Ticklish, sweetie?”

  “Ahhh, yeah, kind of. I just feel so… I don’t know, bloated, cramped.”

  “Hmmm, sweetie, when did you last go to the bathroom?”

  “Bathroom? Well, I went this morning.”

  “Ah-huh. And what did you… do? Did you just pee?”

  “Of course.”

  “Just as I thought. What about… you know? When did you last do that?”

  “Oh! Ahhh, I… don’t… know.”

  “Anya, as much as our food has been good for you, I’m afraid it’s also, ahhh, ‘clogged your pipes,’ as the saying goes. Here, get up, and I’ll mix you an enema. That’ll fix you up in no time.”

  Jessica just about shot off of her lap. “A what? No, no way, I am not taking one of those!”

  Out the door and down the hall she went, and Misha slipped and almost fell trying to catch her.

  “Anya, you’re being a bad little girl. You come back here this instant!”

  She had no intention of obeying. Down the hall she went to her room, dashed inside, and moved to climb under the bed. Jessica froze. She was acting like a child. Only a real little girl would be dumb enough to hide there. Spinning around, she bolted for the stairs—and promptly ran head first into Viktor.

  “Oof! Anya, where are you running to? Goodness, little girl, you need to be more careful.”

  “I gotta go, let me go!”

  “Ah, Viktor, you’re just in time,” Misha said, joining them.

  Jessica’s heart sank, even as Misha gave him a full report. All the while, he kept a firm grip on Jessica, and then carried her back to the bathroom.

  “Anya, I’m disappointed in you. You know you’re in pain, you know we love you and are only interested in helping you, and yet you try to run away.”

  “But I don’t want an enema,” she whined.

  “You need it,” Misha said, starting to mix it.