Trinity In Trouble

Two figures sat in a battered old Mercedes outside an imposing building. It was the sort of building that once might have been a soap factory, or a work house, or a prison. It loomed in a disconcerting sort of way not at all helped by the tall fences topped with razor wire. The entire place reeked of despair.

The driver of the car was an older woman with gray streaks through her muddy brown hair. She wore a frumpy multicolored cardigan and over-sized costume jewelry on her fingers. Her eyelids were streaked with bright blue eyeshadow. Her face was wrinkled and grandmotherly, like an old crumpet. Only the badge pinned to her chest gave her any hint of authority.

The other figure looked to be in her mid-twenties or so. She was dressed casually in an ill-fitting institutional pair of white t-shirt and jeans, but her face revealed an angry tension that belied her laid back attire. She clasped and unclasped her hands in an attempt to allay the anxiety that was clearly building in her mind. Her name was Trinity, and ever since she was a little girl she’d been known for one thing and one thing only – trouble.

“It’s a what now?” Trinity tossed her bronze curls about her head petulantly.

Her companion pursed her lips. “A reform center for women. Think of it like a boarding school.”

“I’m too old for school.”

“Not for this school. It specializes in mature subjects.”

“Did you just call me old? And a subject!”

“Trinity…” It was a word in a sigh. A sad sigh. A long sigh.

“I’m not going there.”

“You are.”

“I’m really not.”

“The choice is no longer yours to make.”

A dark shadow fell over the car and the door opened. Trinity’s arm was seized peremptorily by someone who clearly thought they had the right to go about seizing people.

Not one to be grabbed by disembodied arms, Trinity promptly bit down on the hand that held her. Hard. The hand withdrew rather smartly and Trinity slammed the door shut and held the lock button down.

“Patricia, I don’t know what the hell you think you’re playing at,” she began angrily.

The older woman managed to stay firm. “Your luck’s out Trinity. If you don’t go here, then it’s to the county jail with you, judge’s orders.”

Trinity gritted her teeth angrily. “This is bullshit. I didn’t do it.”

Patricia’s face took on the expression of a person who has heard assertions of innocence far too many times to believe them. “That’s not what your record says.”

“I DIDN’T DO IT!” Trinity’s voice rose angrily.

“If I drive away from here, you’re going to jail.”

Trinity glared at the old woman angrily.

“Fine,” she said finally. If nothing else this place would probably be more easily escaped than jail. “Where are my things?”

“You won’t need anything. Everything is provided,” Patricia said.

“Fine,” Trinity said again, using the word as if it were a weapon. She let go of the door lock and prepared to exit the vehicle.

“Trinity… try to be good.”

That was the last piece of advice Patricia imparted. Trinity disregarded it immediately. Good was not her modus operandi.

She got out of the car and faced the person she’d bitten. She’d expected a man, but to her surprise it was a rather wide woman glaring at her out of mascara ringed eyes.

“You’ll regret that, Miss,” the woman threatened. She was wearing a dark black shirt and skirt and her hair was drawn back in a severe bun. She was possessed of rather impressive jowls that rather put Trinity in mind of a bulldog.

“I doubt it,” Trinity said dismissively.

“This way,” the woman pointed a stubby finger in the direction of the building.

Trinity rolled her eyes. This was going to be incredibly lame, she could feel it in her bones. It was tempting to turn tail and run right now, make a break for the hills. She was hungry though, and some small part of her still hoped for a path to redemption. A life afoul of the law is no life at all, Trinity had already discovered that. If this reform center could get her released with her debt to society paid in full that was all she needed.

“So what is this place?” Trinity asked as she walked up to the entrance of the big building, feigning compliance.

“The Havik Center for the rehabilitation of women,” the guard said with a trace of smugness.

Rehab. That meant group sessions and singalongs and people sneaking one another their pills after most of the staff had gone home for the evening. Trinity could go for a pill or two to take the edge off as she approached the entrance where the tall double doors of the facility stood open to receive her. She walked through them with just a hint of trepidation. The place smelled slightly musty, slightly old, but inside it was well kept. The wooden beams that traversed the foyer were well oiled and the carpet was new. This place was clearly well funded.

She jumped as the front doors closed behind her with a solid thump and the electric buzzing of a lock. She was locked in. Her anxiety spiked and she forced it down. This was a big place. Plenty of places to run, plenty of places to hide. It was okay.

As Trinity sized up her options for escape, the guard showed her through the foyer into a waiting area with stuffed green couches. The place had an old establishment feeling, with paneled walls and that ever present scent of age.

“You’ll have your interview soon. Ms Havik is seeing to another lady,” the guard said with a smirk on her unpleasant features.

Trinity looked at her with sneering puzzlement. The guard seemed to be enjoying this a little bit too much. In her experience, the guards who appeared to enjoy their jobs were the ones to watch. They tended to be sadistic bastards in need of a humanity check.

A sudden cry of pain from behind an old oak door at the far end of the waiting room got Trinity’s attention. It was followed by a loud smacking sound, then another cry of pain. What the hell was going on? Trinity looked to the guard to see if she was going to break up what was clearly a violent altercation, but the guard stayed, unmoved.

Trinity’s heart began to pound in her chest as the smacking and crying sounds continued in a steady rhythm. She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t bear this. She stood up.

“Watch it, lass,” the guard said, moving to block the doors through which they’d come. She was blocking the wrong doors. Trinity didn’t give a damn about running away at that point. She had to help whoever was getting their ass kicked. She ran towards the door and flung it open, then gasped in shock at what she saw.

She had expected to see two women engaged in fisticuffs. Instead what she saw was something else entirely. A woman with a very shapely derriere indeed was bent over a desk. She was bare from the waist down, with her panties around her ankles and her skirt up over her back. Her bottom was a bright red hue, and Trinity had a very clear view of everything the good lord had given her.

Another woman was standing next to her, holding a wooden paddle in her hand. She was tall and buxom with straight dark hair falling to her shoulders and a rather pale visage. She was dressed in a long skirt that swept the floor and her black blouse began with a tall lace collar and culminated in long lace trim. She looked like something straight out of the 16th century, just like the rest of the building.

At the interruption, the woman with the paddle turned towards Trinity and nodded at her. “You must be Miss Trinity Reed. I will see you shortly. Close the door on your way out, would you?” She spoke quite casually, as if nothing were amiss.

Trinity looked from her to the sniveling woman who was still bent over the desk and wondered why she didn’t get up, why she didn’t run.

“What the hell are you doing?” Trinity asked, stepping into the room.

Ms Havik’s fine brows drew together. “I am disciplining Miss Brown here. At this rate, you will be next.”

“Like bloody hell I will be!” Trinity turned to run out of the room, but her path was blocked by the guard who made a better door than a light snack.

Snarling with anger, Trinity turned back towards Ms Havik. Clearly she was the boss lady around these parts. She’d take her down and earn the respect of everyone else. That was how it was done.

“If you touch me, I swear to god I’ll fuck you up so badly that you don’t walk for a year,” she promised direly.

Ms Havik was unmoved. “I think Miss Reed needs to spend some time in the corner,” she said, speaking over Trinity’s shoulder to the guard.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” Trinity warned the guard. The woman hesitated for a moment and Trinity knew that she was afraid. Good. She had good reason to be. Trinity would make no bones about fulfilling her promise if anyone laid a finger on her.

Backing away slowly from both the guard and Ms Havik, Trinity found herself in a coffee area with a couple of couches and a coffee table. Worst case scenario she could use them to barricade herself in, she thought.

“Panties up, skirt down, Miss Brown,” Ms Havik said sternly.

As Trinity watched with a mixture of horror and disgust the woman gingerly stood up, pulled up her panties and lowered her skirt. What the hell was going on here, she wondered. What power did Ms Havik have that a full grown woman would willingly let her paddle her bare bottom?

To Trinity’s greater surprise, the look that Miss Brown shot her on the way out of the room was not one of gratitude. It was a glare of anger. Trinity responded by flipping her the fingers. Ungrateful little bitch.

“Leave us, Mrs Greeves,” Ms Havik said, dismissing the guard.

The guard left, following the still tearful Miss Brown out of the room. Trinity was left with Ms Havik, and wasted no time in asserting herself.

“I don’t know what the hell this place is, but you’re sick, and if you touch me, I’ll kill you,” she reiterated her earlier threat with even more vigor.

Ms Havik smiled a brief, unamused smile. “Miss Reed, I suggest you get your temper under control. It will do you no favors here.”

“Don’t talk to me about temper. You beat people!”

“I do,” Ms Havik agreed, placing the paddle on the desk.

“Well don’t think about beating me,” Trinity growled, taking a step back even though Ms Havik had not moved an inch. The woman exuded menace. There was something about her, a hardness in her eyes that one only gets when life has been particularly unkind. She might have been wearing lace and long skirts, but Trinity saw the mark of the street on her.

“When I’m finished with you, my dear, you’ll beat yourself if I say so,” Ms Havik promised. “But enough of that for now, do you feel like some tea?”

“Don’t drink tea,” Trinity said sullenly.

Ms Havik seemed unperturbed by that news. “Well we shall sit and chat regardless,” she said quite charmingly. If Trinity had met her like this, without the sight of a spanked woman in the room, she might have made the mistake of thinking that Ms Havik was a nice person.

Ms Havik picked up a folder that had been laying on the desk and opened it. She perused whatever documents lay within for a moment or two then looked up at Trinity with what could have been construed as a sympathetic expression.

“You’ve had a rather hard time, haven’t you?”

Trinity grunted. She wasn’t going to fall for the ‘friend’ trap. She didn’t trust Ms Havik as far as she could throw her.

“Well, your time here may very well be a pleasant one, if you are willing to learn our rules and abide by them.”

“I’m not very good with rules,” Trinity said with a hint of pride.

“So it would seem,” Ms Havik agreed. “You’ve not had much reason to follow them in the past. That will not be the case here however. I can assure you that here, rules are made to be followed. Flouting them will result in punishment.”

Trinity rolled her eyes and dropped down onto one of the couches where she lolled casually with her legs akimbo, an expression of pure rebellion plastered on her face.

“Like I said, if you touch me, you’ll regret it.”

Ms Havik ignored her and continued speaking. “Our program here is based on the idea that good behavior earns rewards. Following the rules will result in extra privileges and freedoms and eventually, release.”

“Whatever,” Trinity responded, staring out the window in order to impart her complete disregard for Ms Havik.

Ms Havik closed the folder and placed it back on her desk. “You’re not ready to talk yet. Very well, I will have Mrs Greeves escort you to your room.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Trinity refused.

“Trinity please, lets not start your first day here with trouble,” Ms Havik tried to appeal to Trinity’s common sense. She was evidently unaware that Trinity did not possess common sense in the strictest sense of the term.

Trinity snickered. She felt she had Ms Havik on the run. The woman was already pleading with her. Damn straight.

“I reckon I’ll just stay here until I feel like otherwise,” she said churlishly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Very well,” Ms Havik replied, her eyes narrowing. She strode towards Trinity purposefully, moving far more quickly than Trinity had imagined would be possible in such long skirts and before Trinity could fight back, took hold of her ear and twisted it rather hard. Trinity yowled in pain and tried to lash out at her, but attempts at fighting only resulted in more torque on her ear and more pain. After a few moments of flailing about wildly, Trinity had slid off the couch and was reduced to squealing on her knees.

“Lemme go! Lemme go,” she squealed upwards at Ms Havik.

“I don’t think so,” Ms Havik replied in frosty tones. The expression in her eyes as she looked down at Trinity was ice cold, almost emotionless. Trinity was reminded of her initial assessment of the woman – that she was hard as nails underneath all that lace.

Ms Havik didn’t let Trinity up, instead she held her there, on her knees and forced the captive woman to crane her head to look up at her.

“Now we’re going to experience what discipline really is,” she said grimly, sitting down where Trinity had recently been ensconced and using the grip on Trinity’s ear to pull her up and over her lap.

Trinity was thoroughly mortified to find herself with her hips pressed firmly over Ms Havik’s hard thigh and her bottom perched high in the air. She thanked god that she was wearing the thick ugly jeans given to her by the state.

“I imagine you’ve needed this for quite some time,” Ms Havik said, patting Trinity’s behind firmly.

“Fuck you and fuck you,” Trinity growled. She did not appreciate being spoken to in her current condition. Every word that passed Ms Havik’s lips was a reminder that she’d been quickly and efficiently bested and that she was now totally at the woman’s mercy.

Again, Ms Havik ignored her foul language. “This is going to hurt. You will not find it pleasant. But when we are done, this incident will be over and you will start with a fresh slate.”

Trinity felt the woman tugging at her jeans and to her horror, felt them begin to slide down over her hips. Damn their loose fit. Damn the fact that she wasn’t allowed a belt! Slowly and in jerky increments, her threadbare cotton panties were exposed and she felt the smooth material of Ms Havik’s skirt against her bare thighs as the disciplinarian settled Trinity’s jeans around her knees.

When she patted Trinity’s panty clad bottom again, Trinity felt a frisson of intimacy. This was so wrong, to be bent over another woman’s lap, to be taken to task in such a fashion. She was so exposed like this, she hated it.

“Bottom up,” Ms Havik ordered curtly, slapping Trinity’s cheeks sharply.

Trinity gasped in pain and outrage. “No way in fucking hell am I…”

She didn’t get any further. Ms Havik propped her thigh up, making Trinity’s bottom rise and went to town on the miscreant’s backside, spanking her with hard slaps of her surprisingly bony hand.

Trinity wailed almost from the first slap. Ms Havik had been right. It did hurt. It hurt terribly. Her panties did nothing at all to dim the sting and the hard slapping so close to her intimate areas was doing terrible things to her. In addition to the pain and the embarrassment, she felt her body beginning to respond quite involuntarily.

“You have been a very, very naughty young lady,” Ms Havik lectured whilst she spanked. “But it ends now.”

She began slapping Trinity’s upper thighs, making the poor woman squeal and kick, which served to press her groin against Ms Havik’s thigh, which resulted in a whole ‘nother series of sensations that she really would rather not deal with. Despite the tingling between her legs she knew very well that Ms Havik was not trying to seduce her. No, the older woman was simply treating her like a naughty wretch.

“No!” Trinity cried as Ms Havik’s fingers hooked in the waistband of her panties. “No!”

“Shush girl, I’ve seen it all before,” Ms Havik said tersely, drawing Trinity’s underwear down to her knees. If she noticed the slight gleam of moisture between Trinity’s thighs, she didn’t say anything, she simply set to spanking her with more gusto than ever, landing slap after slap on Trinity’s rosy behind until she was a wriggling wailing mess.

A young woman on the brink, Trinity arrives at Ms Havik’s Reform Facility with only one agenda – making as much trouble for as many people as possible. To Trinity’s dismay she soon discovers that the old fashioned Ms Havik is more than equal to the task of teaching her a good, sound lesson over her knee.

A smart woman would know when to quit, but determined not to give in to threats of a perpetually sore backside, Trinity’s wild behavior soon runs her afoul of the handsome guard Frankie, a woman who captivates more than just Trinity’s bare behind.

Can love blossom under Ms Havik’s harsh regime? Or will Trinity find her spirit crushed along with her heart?

Get it on!

Get it on!