Chapter Two -- Orientation
As the van sped along, Darlene couldn't turn off her mind. Her thoughts were a
jumbled mix of emotions. Being naked was embarrassing. Figuring out what to do
with her hands was a problem, too. She didn't want anyone to think that she
might be masturbating. But that's exactly what she would do if she was alone, in
private, away from the other naked women in the van. Folding her hands in her
lap put them too close to her pussy. 'Thank God it's dark,' she though, 'So no
one can see that I'm soaking the seat.'
When she first sat down, her bottom stuck to the plastic seat. But just a few
minutes later and a thin sheen of perspiration and pussy juice had her sliding
around, held in place only by the seat belt. She had to keep her hands away from
her groin so she folded her arms under her breasts.
Random thoughts popped into her head. Darlene thought about her kids. Would they
miss her? Would they be OK without her? 'Oh, thank providence that I'm not the
fattest one.' Will Dwayne get along all right? Watching him screw a
fifty-something sex pot was.. a turn-on. Darlene silently prayed that she hadn't
made the biggest mistake of her life when she agreed to go to this thing called
Good Wife University.
She squirmed in the seat, frustrated. She wanted to frig her pussy. If they had
been at an ordinary party, she would have insisted that Dwayne take her home.
She would have tried to get him to screw her, but he was usually so mad about
being pulled away from a party that they ended up arguing and she ended up
frustrated, frigging her pussy in the bathroom while he. 'Damn, I've got to quit
thinking about diddling my pussy or I'm going to go nuts,' she told herself,
feeling the road vibrations come through the seat, keeping her pussy juicy and
her butt slipping around on the seat.
Laura wondered if her daughter-in-law, Prissy, had made this same trip, shackled
and nude. 'Probably,' she decided, smiling to herself. Pricilla was incredibly
cute, upbeat, efficient, and happy and everything that Laura wanted to be, even
if the girl was less than half her age.
Sitting next to Kim, Debbie felt terrified. She was a college graduate, blond,
blue eyed, sexy, fit, and everything a man could want. So why did Dan's interest
wane? She gave him everything. She let him have his way with her whenever he
wanted, opening her thighs so he could ram his cock into her until he came. And
she enjoyed sex even when she didn't have orgasms.
It was late when the van pulled into a small underground parking garage. Four
young women, the oldest barely twenty, were helped into the van. They were nude
except for ankle shackles. Even their feet were bare except for one who wore
wedgie 'jelly shoes.'
Kim seethed with anger, building the rage in her mind with every passing moment
as she heard Peggy's voice break the drone of tires on dry pavement.
"Welcome to Good Wife University, G.W.U. for short," Peggy said lightly,
swiveled around in her captain's chair to face the four women. "Your orientation
begins now so pay attention."
"First, some history. GWU started over forty years ago. I graduated from one of
the first classes. My mother and mother-in-law were both charter professors.
They started GWU because women forgot what it means to be a good wife. During
World War Two, women left the home and did men's work. Most returned to the home
after the war but a few radicals started what has become known, erroneously, I
might add, as the women's movement."
"In my opinion, radical feminists screwed up the institution of marriage. Too
many women forgot traditional values and the lessons of our elders. I was one of
them. Thirty years ago, my marriage almost ended in divorce until my mother and
mother-in- law joined some other women of their generation to teach their
daughters how to be good wives."
"Back then, we were just tied up in mom's basement until we learned our lessons
and learned them well. GWU is more sophisticated now. The informal lessons that
our moms taught us back then are now formal lesson plans. We have a syllabus, a
residential program, library, reading lists, outlines, a correspondence program,
you name it. Some years ago, a well-to-do and very grateful and gracious husband
donated our campus, which was once an convent school. A West Coast campus opened
a few years ago and there's a small campus in Canada. We're now looking for a
suitable site in the Midwest, and we've developed a post graduate program."
"Second, and most important of all, is attitude. I'll say it again -- ATTITUDE.
You can and should have a lot of fun. You'll work hard and learn a lot but it's
your attitude more than anything else that will determine your success. Decide
right now that you're going to work hard and have fun and become the best wife
possible, and everything will be wonderful."
"The next subject is discipline. Ladies, there's no escape for twelve weeks.
Period. You all agreed to spend twelve weeks learning to be good wives. We won't
tolerate anything that might work against that. You've already seen the results,
or, in your case, Kim, felt it. Not too comfortable, is it? Well, you can spend
the next twelve or more weeks miserably by fighting us and the program or you
can change your attitude, go along with the program, and actually have a lot of
fun. Kim, what you've experienced so far is mild compared to the punishment you
_could_ receive."
Peggy intentionally paused for quite a while to let all the women absorb what
she had already said before she continued, "It's now time to give you a quick
overview of what's going to happen. Tomorrow and Tuesday you'll go through a
series of placement tests. I said the course is twelve weeks. That's how the
program is set up but it could be longer or shorter. That was included in the
fine print in the contract you each signed when you enrolled."
"The quickest anyone ever graduated was seven weeks, although she stayed on for
an eighth. The longest was six months. But twelve weeks is the norm. That time
is divided into four semesters of three weeks each and, just for giggles, we
refer to you during the first three weeks as freshmen, the second as sophomores,
and so on. There are tests and grade cards. If you fail a class, you have to
retake it the next semester in addition to your other work."
"We also have a system of merits and demerits. If you do well, you can visit
your husbands and kids, earn clothing and privileges, and generally enjoy your
time at GWU. If you don't do well or even worse, intentionally rebel and disrupt
things, you may end up suffering corporal punishment and rather severe
restrictions on your movements and activities. It's your choice. Like I said
before, your attitude has a lot to do with it."
"Last, but not least, we're traditional. As Clarice explained back at the house,
this first week is called 'hell week'. Just like fraternities, sororities, and
military schools, once you make it through the first week, it gets easier, so...
Here we are."
-=*=-
As Laura descended the steps pushed up to the van door, she looked around to see
that the old convent school was built of native stone and brick, an eclectic
collection of interconnected buildings on well kept grounds. She held back when
Peggy led the way to the door, embarrassed to have the others follow her and
look at her body. It seemed that everyone hesitated until Peggy called out to
them to "come on in and get settled."
Inside the entryway, Peggy introduced Gwen and then left, closing the door
behind her. Gwen was average -- average height, average weight, a simple bun of
light brown hair atop her head, wearing khaki shorts and a sleeveless white
blouse. But her smile was friendly.
"Welcome," Gwen chimed. "I'll get the introductions out of the way in a bit.
Come on and I'll show you your rooms."
The rattle of leg shackle chains was the only sound as they followed the woman,
who Laura guessed to be about forty, but with a body that most twenty-year-olds
would kill for. The woman's hips swiveled provocatively, the motion emphasized
by her blue suede 'high heeled sneakers' that suggested a couple of songs. The
humiliation of the short trip was magnified because forty other women in various
states of dress or undress watched as they walked single file down the hallway.
"Here we are," Gwen cheerily said. "Now, I suppose you'd like to get out of
those chains, huh?"
"Yes, ma'am," Debbie and Darlene replied together, accompanied by an "Uh huh"
from Laura and a muffled sound from Kim.
"Stop the 'ma'am' stuff," Gwen said, taking the shoestring from around her neck
and tossing it to Debbie. "It makes me feel old. Just call me Gwen or Professor
Gwen or, I don't know. I'm new at this, being part of the staff, that is.
Actually, I think you're supposed to call me 'ma'am' but please don't."
"Okay, I guess I have to deal with you first," she sighed, facing Kim. "Do you
promise to speak only when spoken to and to be respectful and polite in
everything you do and say?"
Kim nodded affirmatively.
"Then I can remove the gag. You obviously said something nasty to get yourself
gagged. If you do it again, we have some horrible tricks like coating an even
bigger ball with onion powder and horseradish. I got that one once," she laughed
at herself. "Oh, and I'm being impolite. Does anybody need to pee?"
"I do" and "yes, mam" came the replies.
"The bathroom's across the hall," she told them, collecting the handcuff key.
"And now, you," she snapped, using the key to unlock the harness and then pull
the gag from Kim's mouth. "Don't try to talk right away. Move like this."
Although still hot with anger that she had mentally stoked like a boiler fire
throughout the ride in the van, Kim almost laughed when she saw Gwen's jaw
moving side to side and up and down. But when Kim tried to speak, she made a
strange honking noise and found that her jaw wouldn't move.
"It's tough being gagged for so long when you're not used to it," Gwen observed.
"Give it a second. Massage your temples and, yeah, that's it. OK, so here's the
deal. Whatever you did to get yourself into a bind, so to speak and yes, I
couldn't resist the pun, it's all forgotten. Peg didn't tell me anything and I
have no reason to keep you trussed up, do I?"
"Uh huh," Kim managed, moving her jaw like Gwen showed her.
"Good. Ah, and everybody's back. For at least the next few days, you have no
privileges at all. You have to ask permission for everything. You're restricted
to your rooms and the bathroom across the hall for tonight except for, let's
see. Oh, geez, I forgot. Who is it that has little kids?"
"Me," Darlene offered, looking at the others to see if she was alone in
motherhood.
"Well, your kids will be calling any minute. You can take that call but that's
it for tonight. Get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow. Ooops, sorry. I didn't
get your name," Gwen said to Kim.
"Kim.ba..lee," Kim managed with effort.
"Hi, Kim. I'm Gwen and I meant it when I said you're starting over so let me get
those off you."
She unlocked first the handcuffs and then removed the shackles. Kim shrugged her
shoulders and stretched her arms forward and out to try to remove the kinks and
stiffness.
"Not too comfortable," Gwen observed. "But it's over as long as you follow the
rules. You three stay here. Debbie, you come with me next door. This room's for
ladies who are already married. See ya," she chimed as she walked out with
Debbie close behind her.
-=*=-
"Are we allowed to talk?" Laura asked in a whisper.
"I don't..." Darlene was about to say when the telephone rang, drawing
everyone's attention to the instrument on the end table by the sectional sofa.
She quickly grabbed the phone, almost shouting, "Hello."
"Mom? It's Jenni. Hi."
"Hi, yourself, Jennifer. How are you guys doing with grandpa and grandma?"
While Darlene talked with each of her kids, Laura explored the large room. By
the door where they entered, was a common area with the sectional sofa, lamps
set on end tables, and a cocktail table. Toward the back were four cubicles
formed by the furniture: double bed, dresser, wardrobe, student desk and chair,
and night stand with a reading lamp.
"At least we'll be comfortable," Laura commented, pressing on the closest
mattress with her hand and then rolling onto the bed.
"Like hell," Kim spat out. "There is no fuckin' way I'm going to put up with
this crap of being tied up and, shit, I'll be gone before morning for sure."
"You heard what Gwen..."
"Yeah, I heard the bitch," Kim snapped, pulling off her shoes and plopping onto
a bed and turning her back to Laura to discourage further conversation.
"Bye, Katy," Darlene said into the phone. "Be good for your grandma. Bye."
She had tears streaming down her cheeks as she put down the phone. Laura came
over to hug her. They were still in a tight embrace when the door opened.
"Hi, guys," Gwen said cheerily, startling the women in the room. "This is
Kaitlyn, Katy for short. She'll be joining you."
Darlene's jaw dropped. Gwen was now nude except for anklets and the high-heeled
sneakers. The new girl shyly hid herself as Gwen introduced Kim, "the one being
antisocial. And this is Laura and Darlene. Darlene's the only one with kids. So,
get some rest. You have to get up early."
"You're just a baby!" Darlene blurted out as the door clicked closed.
"I am _NOT_ a baby," Katy insisted. "I'm married and I'm going to have a baby."
"I'm sorry, Katy. I just meant, compared to me," Darlene told the girl. "You
remind me a lot of my daughter and she's only thirteen."
"Well I'm eighteen, almost eighteen, and I'm emancipated."
"And like most teenagers, you know everything," Laura laughed. "But even I don't
know everything and my baby's a lot older than you are. So how'd you get
yourself stripped to the buff and stuck in a room with a bunch of naked older
women?"
"My sister told me to do it," Katy pouted.
"My daughter-in-law told me I ought to come," Laura told the girl, smiling.
"I'll tell you what. If you agree not to treat me like a mother or refer to my
advanced age, I agree to treat you like an equal and never refer to your
immaturity, OK?"
"I'm scared," Katy sobbed, tears clouding her vision.
"Me, too," Laura told the girl, holding her arms open. Katy ran forward let the
big older woman enfold her into an embrace so she could snuggle against a
sympathetic shoulder and cry in relative security.
-=*=-
Gwen left Debbie in the adjacent room with the younger girls, Jennifer, 18,
Maria, 19, and Wendy, 21. As soon as Gwen left, the four talked about how they
had come to GWU and why. Debbie told them that her fianc sent her and she showed
off her engagement ring. Jennifer and Maria had volunteered based on
recommendations from slightly older relatives.
"I always thought that my cousin Consuela had it so together with her oh so
perfect husband and kids," Maria explained. "And she told me about this place.
Actually, she didn't tell me much or I wouldn't be here buck-naked, you know?
But she told me I'd be a better person for coming and that, you know, guys.
Well, she said if I came here, I'd attract the right kind of guys and not the
losers who're always coming on to me, you know?"
Debbie loved the pinch of Latino accent in Maria's otherwise totally American
speech. Maria was lovely. She looked like Charo with big but firm breasts,
perfect medium-brown skin, and shapely legs, a body that screamed 'bomb shell'.
Jennifer was totally different. Most striking was her height, over six feet. Her
shape was classic, a perfect pear with large hips and thighs. Her breasts were
small but with long, pointy nipples. She looked like a rebellious teenager with
her fingernails painted black and a tattoo of a penis with butterfly wings just
below her navel which sported a gold ring. "My dumb sister put me up to this on
a dare. Said I'd never make it, so here I am. I'm going to kill her when I get
out of here." Everybody laughed, even Jennifer.
"I guess it's my turn," sighed Wendy, a nickname for Gwendolyn. "I don't know
how to begin. I was brought up in an extremely conservative home. I wasn't
allowed to date until I was sixteen and by then, all the boys were taken. I'm
Catholic and I always went to Catholic schools. I..."
"I'm Catholic too, gringa," Maria snapped out, her accent much more pronounced
now. "So how'd you get here, huh?"
"A college professor," she said softly.
"Dirty old man, huh?" Maria ventured.
"She was a she, a woman," Wendy said, blushing. "So what gives, heh? She go down
on you?"
Wendy burst into tears and blurted out, "I told her I thought I was a lesbian
and, and..." She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, then
continued, just a bit more composed. "I told her I didn't want to be, but that I
was afraid of men, and I had sexual feelings about women, and about her, and she
smiled and told me that all of that was just fine, that she knew how I felt."
"And I told her she couldn't possibly know because, well, she was married and
had children." Wendy paused to collect herself. "And then she said, 'You were
right about me. I am gay and I find you very attractive. Just being near you is
arousing me but.'." And again the tears came freely. "She said that she could
never have a relationship with a student, and that I shouldn't give up the idea
of marriage and children and even a wonderful relationship with a man even if I
did eventually find out that I'm gay, but that I'm too young to decide I'm gay."
"I can't believe I'm feeling homophobic," Debbie said aloud, moving to sit by
Wendy and hold the sobbing girl. "I have no intention of sleeping with you, but
I think you need a hug."
"Thanks," Wendy managed. "So my professor that I wanted to make love to me for
the first time rejected me and told me about this place. She said that by the
time I left here, I'd know if I was gay or straight or somewhere in between and
I would know that it didn't make a bit of difference... but I'm scared."
"We all are, chica," Maria told her. "Hey, you know what my cousin said? She
said that us women, we gotta practice sex stuff with other women because another
woman can't get you pregnant, but you can learn about sex from another woman, so
you know what? You may get to try me out. What do you think of that, huh?"
"You are kind of cute," Wendy giggled. She was teasing Maria now that she felt a
little better. In retaliation for the teasing, Maria threw a pillow at Wendy but
hit Debbie. The result was a pillow fight before they went to bed. Sleep eluded
them, the uncertainty back once the room was dark and quiet.
