Subject: Mary Catherine's First Impressions
(f/f, nc, no sex)
From: _marycatherine <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 20 Nov 1999 10:22:25 -0800
This is what really happened that first meeting, according to Mary Catherine . . .
* * *
Mary Catherine had been standing in the corridor with her nose against the wall for hours it seemed. Surely Sister Constance wouldn't make her miss dinner. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food. “STOP IT!” she thought. “That’s what got you into trouble in the first place.”
Mary Catherine knew freshmen weren’t allowed to have candy at all . . . let alone in class. She just couldn’t help herself. It seemed as if she was hungry all the time these days. Between all the running and drills Sister Angelina made you do at tennis practice, riding team, and that growth spurt she was going through, she felt like she was starving to death half the time. Since May when she’d been measured for her uniforms and now (early October) she’d grown nearly three inches.
All of her skirts were too short now according to regulations. There was a draft in the hall—which reminded her just how short her skirt had become. She shivered slightly from the chill air on her legs. She hoped her new skirts got here before winter hit.She dreaded the thought of freezing weather and snow.
Her Senior Advisor had the nerve to threaten her with six strokes of the hall paddle for her uniform not being up to code. “I mean really! As if it was my fault for growing so much over the summer!” she thought. Mary Catherine HATED her Senior Advisor, she really did. Victoria was SOOOO annoying . . . and worse, that brat Veronica down the hall got away with murder, just because Victoria was her older sister.
“Please, get real!” she thought as her nose started to go numb “Saint Francis loved having all these rules, so why can't they make one that says girls can’t have their sisters as Senior Advisors?” Veronica was always out of regulation uniform, always sneaking chips or soda or candy . . . there was even talk that she was the one selling black nail polish and lipstick to the other freshmen. She never got in trouble for any of it! Talk about life being unfair.
Mary Catherine sighed and slipped another mint out of her pocket. Popping it in her mouth, she began to ball up the wrapper to slip in her sweater pocket. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. She was so startled that she nearly swallowed the peppermint whole.
It was the Dean. He wanted to know who she was and why she was out in the hall. She was trapped, she couldn’t say anything without giving herself away, and yet she was afraid that the Dean would think she was being deliberately disrespectful.
Somehow Mary Catherine managed to get the mint stuck to the roof of her mouth long enough to whisper her name and Sister Constance. The Dean seemed to think she was one of those terribly shy freshmen who stammered and blushed in his presence. As if! At least the Dean let her turn around while he went to talk to Sister Constance. She turned and watched him enter the faculty room.
Suddenly, the Dean was back in front of her, and before she knew what was happening he marched her into one of the empty classrooms and made her spit the mint out. “How did he know?” she wondered. She listened to the Dean lecture her about the rules . . . she didn’t bother to tell him that her mom had made her memorize all 62 pages of the Saint Francis Code of Conduct before she'd ever been accepted here. She’d known she was breaking the rules.
Suddenly, Mary Catherine realized the Dean had asked her a question. She looked at him bewildered. “I asked you what you have to say for yourself?” Mary Catherine thought for a minute and answered, “Care for a candy, Sir?” She looked at him disbelieving that she said what she'd been thinking. Her eyes dropped to the floor and her breathing got very shallow. How could she have said that?!
The Dean looked hard at her, then went over to the desk and wrote a quick note on a piece of paper. He then told her that she’d be spending Saturday grounded in her room and that it was up to her to tell her Senior Advisor why! Didn’t he know what she'd do to her? From the amused look on his face she could tell that he did!
Oh, how could she have ever thought he was so nice? She must be crazy. She cursed to herself all the way back to the dorm. Mary Catherine could hear the dinner bell start to ring just as she got to her floor. She stopped at her door and turned the knob, pushing hard against the solid oak door to get it past the point where it always stuck.
Mary Catherine stopped dead at the sight of Victoria sitting cross-legged in the middle of Mandy's bed, the floor paddle lying across her lap. She smiled widely at the sight of Mary Catherine. “Hmmm, late for dinner aren't we Mary Catherine?”
“Yes, Victoria,” she said, staring at the thick paddle. “You’re also out of uniform I think . . . kneel down so I can see if it touches the floor.” Mary Catherine groaned, knowing that there was no way her skirt would ever pass inspection. “It’s this short only because I’ve grown, Victoria!” she exclaimed.
“Speaking disrespectfully to a senior. You’re quite the little troublemaker tonight. Stand up!” Mary Catherine scrambled to her feet. “Anything you have to say for yourself?” Victoria asked. She shook her head, knowing anything she had to say wouldn't matter to the Wicked Witch of Benning Hall.
Then, unbelievably, Mary Catherine straightened up pulled the note from the Dean out of her pocket and handed it to Victoria. She looked her straight in the eye, not flinching or shaking like some scared freshman would be expected to. Reading it, Victoria’s smile got wider, her eyes gleaming evilly. “Care to explain this?”
“I got caught eating candy,” Mary Catherine said calmly. “The Dean said I needed to tell you why I'd be confined to my room on Saturday.” “Well, well” Victoria replied. “You certainly have been busy. Now it looks like I'll have to get busy too. You're gonna regret making me late for dinner brat!”
Suddenly Victoria jumped off Mandy's bed and grabbed Mary by the ponytail. Pushing her in the back with the floor paddle Victoria bent Mary Catherine over the desk by the window. Before she knew what was happening, Victoria had her skirt tucked into her waistband and yanked her panties down around her ankles.
“Count ‘em off brat!” she said as she took a quick measure of the paddle to Mary Catherine’s bottom. SMAAAAAACK “One” SSMMMMMMACCCKK!!! “Two!!!” CRACCCK “THHHREEE!!” . . . . The sound of the floor paddle meeting Mary Catherine’s bottom got louder and faster, but she gritted her teeth and kept calling out each one determined not to cry or beg for Victoria to stop. She made Victoria so mad that she ended up giving her 12 instead of the maximum six mandated for freshmen. The last one echoed down the quiet hall followed by a loud clear "TWWWELLLLLVEE!!!!!"
Suddenly, Mary Catherine heard the floor paddle hit the ground as Victoria threw it down. Then Victoria’s hand reached down and yanked her up by the collar turning her around so she could look her in the eye. Victoria’s eyes flashed in anger as she saw that Mary Catherine managed to somehow hold back her tears.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Victoria asked. “Thank you!” Mary Catherine said, looking at Victoria defiantly. Victoria’s face turned red as she snatched the paddle off the floor. Leaving her standing there, Victoria walked to the doorway. She then turned around, looked at Mary Catherine hard and said, “You’re gonna be sorry for that brat! No one tries to get the best of me, you might want to remember that before you meet wood again!” With that she stalked out of the room leaving Mary Catherine standing there.
She couldn’t bring herself to go down to dinner that night even though she was starving. Instead she lay across her bed, crying silently into her pillow. When Mandy came in, she took one look at Mary Catherine and knew what had happened, at least most of it. Mandy cried harder than she did. And she was such a good friend, she stood at all her meals and in class the next day so no one knew exactly who’d incurred Victoria’s wrath. They’d been good friends up until that point, but that first encounter with the Dean was what made Mary Catherine and Mandy the best of friends.
© 1998, Mary Catherine Whitney, All Rights Reserved
Let go of your fears . . .