The Alternate Path

Deep in the countryside, sitting atop a hill, is the crumbling ruin of a former convent. Once home to an order of nuns, the building fell to ruin when the neighboring village died out. Some years later, the building was used as shelter from the war. Then later a private school. Each time, the building would be refurbished, restored, refitted, then forgotten again.
Throughout all the changes, modifications, and additions; most of the original building's look has been lost. Only the chapel is original at this point, an elegant place of worship left chiefly to spiderwebs and rats. Despite having been broken and remade multiple times, the building still bares the hallmarks of an old world structure. The cold grey stone that was chiefly used in its design stands proud amongst the emerald grass. The rooms, with few exceptions, are spartan, and parts of the building have no electricity.
The grounds that surround the building are larger than they appear. The shroud of thick and gnarled trees that surround the grounds give, even the open fields, a claustrophobic feel. On the opposite side of the building from the main road is a large and crumbling into disrepair graveyard. Half, if not more, of the graveyard has been reclaimed by the forest, and rumors abound that beyond even that was once the village.

It was partially due to the many times the building was left derelict that many of the stories of it's darker past have been lost. So few know of the horrors that took place beneath the convent. The bodies buried in the walls. None of the people who have just moved in where aware of tales of the woman in the graveyard, or the creatures in the woods.
The new tenants knew nothing of the history of the building, nor did they care. They knew only what they wanted to do. They had plans, and the building would be perfect for their intents.

The prison bus drove down the winding road up to the old building. Of the eight passengers, none of them were in chains on this trip. There was considered little to no flight risk from this lot, and only one of them had a history of ****. Despite the fact that all these youths were from broken homes, troubled backgrounds, and were generally unwanted by society; The driver's heart still sank when his eyes fell upon the building on the hill. The eight children on his bus would be daft to want to stay in such a creepy place.
"Alright; Everybody out," The driver said as he stopped the bus and opened the door. The kids all grabbed their stuff and walked out. His task done, the driver did not even wait for a signal. He simply drove away, leaving the eight youths behind, a small amount of guilt clinging in his chest for having done so.

The kids were divided into four girls, all of whom where eighteen; and four boys, three of which were eighteen and one was nineteen. They stood in a line before the building as two figures stood to greet them. A middle aged man and woman. The man was tall with short black hair and a beard. He was greying in the temples and wore glasses and a green jumper. The woman had medium length brown hair and a motherly figure and wore a blue shirt and tan skirt. She smiled at the new comers "Welcome! It's good to see you all made it. My name is Miss Winifred Glynn," She then turned to the man next to her "And this is Mr. Peter Clayton. We're the heads of this little program you've volunteered for." She smiled a little, everyone in attendance knew that volunteered was a stretch. Many, if not all the new arrivals were given two choices, prison or here. "I'm sure over the next two years we'll all become fast friends. In the meantime, your sleeping and living arrangements. The ladies will be on the second floor, and the men on the ground floor. You boys can go with Mr. Clayton, and he'll help you all get settled. As for you ladies, grab your bags and come with me."

Miss Glynn waited until the men were out of earshot, and sight, before dropping the warm and smiling face and suddenly getting very serious. "I'd like to start with a few words of warning. First, let's not mistake what's going on here. You're not here on vacation, you're here because the real world doesn't want you around. I'm here to fix that. Second, if I hear you complaining to any of the boys about how I, or any of the other staff, have been treating you..." She stopped and turned to glare at her four charges "I'll make SURE you regret ever mentioning it."

The four girls were lead up the stairs and to a room on the left. The room was clearly once just another bedroom, that had since been converted to a public shower. There was a vanity in the corner, a laundry hamper, a few chairs, and in the center of the room a thin post with four shower heads coming out of it. Waiting in the room was a woman, a very thin blond with a bob cut, dressed like a fetishised nurse.
"Alright girls," Miss Glynn ordered as the nurse handed them all large bags "Line up, and strip. You will put your civilian clothes in the bags, your undergarments can go in your luggage."
"Um..." came the unnerved voice of an eighteen year old blond. She was tall, thin, and beautiful; with the personality that just seemed to scream that she came from privilege. "When you say strip...?"
Miss Glynn turned and glared at the girl "Take off all your clothes, Miss Yates." She then turned and glared at the redhead. "And all your jewellery and accessories to."
Gwen, who had short red hair, green eyes, and a petite frame looked taken aback by the remark. She was wearing jeans, a black tank top, black choker, and lots of bracelets; but didn't feel her outfit was more accessorized than the brunet standing next to her, with almost five piercings in each ear and one on her nose. Still, she was stuck here. Gwen set about undressing, placing her accessories and street clothes in the bag.

Once the girls were all undressed the nurse set about inspecting them. It was humiliating to say the least, and the nurse was quite rigorous in her search. She even went so far as to give all four girls cavity searches, before telling them to sit on a chair and shaving their pubic hairs completely. This seemed to be especially unnerving for the blond, who acted like she'd never been touched or even seen naked before in her life. Gwen herself wasn't sure she liked the idea of someone else being that close to her sensitive groin with a razor, but again, she was trapped there.
Once each girl freshly shaven then sent back to the line, the nurse glared at them all. "Every morning, you will come here, put your underwear in the hamper, shave, then shower." She then handed out bottles of shampoo. When she came to the girl with wavy black hair, she stopped and handed her a different bottle "As for you! You will use this one."
"Is there a problem?" Miss Glynn asked, sounding concerned, as she stepped next to the nurse.
"This dirty little girl has lice." The nurse answered, before stepping back. "Shower, all four of you! Now!"
The girls set to work showering, under the keen supervision of the two women. Again the blond seemed distressed by this. She was red with the humiliation of being virtually face to face with other girls while trying to wash herself. It didn't help that the two administrators kept barking orders "Do a good job," "Those are filthy, scrub them down," "Don't skip that spot, it's dirty," and "Make sure you're nice and clean."

When the girls were finally done cleaning themselves, they were all given towels. All the girls except for dark haired girl were given pink towels. The dark haired girl alone was given a white towel. The girls dried themselves a little before getting marched into the hall wearing only the towels, to the room across the hall. Miss Glynn explained to the humiliated girls "You've all been preassigned a bed. You will unpack your undergarments and sleepwear, all your street clothes will go in the bags from earlier. So long as you live here, you'll wear the uniforms we assigned you. On your beds is a guide with your names on it. Those guides have all the rules and expectations we have of you laid out." As the girls slipped into their undies, the door opened and a plump woman walked in. Miss Glynn seemed pleased, but waited. The girls packed their clothes, surrendered their street clothes, and dawned their new uniforms. The uniforms were similar to what one might expect from a private school. Pleated moss green skirts, matching button down shirts, a black tie, and pair of Mary Janes.

Now completely dressed the girls were ordered to line up. "Allow me to introduce you to Miss Janet Sanders. She is in charge of the cooking and cleaning here, so she'll be you girl's boss starting tomorrow."
Lyla, the brunet with the piercings that were just surrendered, snarked back without thinking "Is that not a bit sexist?" There was hardly enough time to breath before she was grabbed by Miss Glynn "What the fuck?!" Lyla was **** against the wall with her hips pulled back. Miss Glynn wasted no time lifting the eighteen year old's skirt and resting it on her hips. "What the Hell are you doing!?!" Lyla panicked as her pink and black lace thong was exposed to the others.
"Thirty for disrespect, and ten for foul language a piece!" Miss Sanders commented walking up behind Lyla. A look of pure terror flickered on Lyla's face before Miss Sanders smacked the smaller girl's ass, hard. To the onlookers it appeared that it was as brutal as smack as the plump woman could deliver. Lyla cried out in pain only to be greeted with another smack. After just a few more strikes, Lyla let out another curse, only to be told she just earned ten more. It took only twenty four strikes for the eighteen year old to start balling, but not before earning another ten strikes with another curse.
Gwen watched the brutal punishment with trembling hands. Lyla was becoming more and more of a sobbing mess, begging for mercy and to be let go. Her butt was already beat red. It was the forty eighth hit when Gwen finally stepped forward "Please STOP!" The two administrators looked back at the redhead in confusion. "Please, we just got here, have mercy on her!"
"She still has some punishment left to go. Do you mean us to simply, forgive her foul language?" Miss Glynn asked after a brief spell of silence.
"I don't care! Look at her, she's a sobbing mess! I think you've proved your point! If need be, I'll take them for her, just stop..." Gwen offered, fists clenched, and trembling "you're clearly hurting her."
Miss Sanders smirked "Very well, take your position."
Gwen walked up to a wall, leaned up against it and stuck out her rear, before lifting her skirt up to her hips. With her mint green panties on display she lowered her head "I'm ready..." To Gwen's credit, she didn't cry or lash out. She would squeak and scream a couple of times, but never cried.
When the spankings were done, the girls returned to the line and Miss Glynn addressed the four "Let this be a lesson to you all, we will not hesitate to distribute punishments when it is due. You'll all start work tomorrow. Your alarm is already set for five thirty. I expect all of you to be shaved, bathed, dressed, and in the kitchen by six thirty in the morning so you can have breakfast for the boys by seven." She gave a final glare at Lyla before nodding at the girls. "Good night, girls. Feel free to use the night as you desire, just be ready for a long and early day tomorrow."

Alone in their room, Gwen helped Lyla to her bed as Iona watched on. The blond was impressed, both with Gwen's willingness to stand up for a girl she just met, and with how well she took her own spanking. "That was very brave of you to speak up for her."
Gwen helped Lyla into her bed, "I waited too long. That was brutal, I'm sorry I waited so long..."
"Lyla..." The beaten girl responded "My name's Lyla..." She grabbed the pillow and hugged it close "And I thought this would be better than prison."
Gwen rubbed Lyla's back "What are you in for?"
"Didn't have enough money, so I lifted what I needed from a local store. Necessities you know, shampoo, tampons, underwear." Lyla held the pillow tighter "I turned eighteen just three month ago, and with almost a thousand in debt I was told I'd being going to real jail." She huffed "Then the judge mentioned this little experiment as an option. Said it were a program to rehabilitate the youth."
"That was more or less the same line the judge gave me as well." Iona sat down on her bed "Ugh, these beds aren't even remotely soft."
Moyra followed suit "They're softer than my last bed."
Gwen seemed amused by this "Where were you sleeping before, Girl?"
"A car. My name is Moyra by the way." Moyra responded mater of factually.
"What kind of car, Moyra?" Iona asked curiously.
"An abandoned car in the woods." Moyra shrugged. "The tires were rotted away, and the roof leaked, and it kind of smelled, but it was home."
Lyla glanced at Gwen "Is she telling us she's just homeless? Did the judge offer you this place or prison as well?"
The dark haired girl shook her head "I was not given a choice. The worker just signed me up." She flopped down "I'm going to miss that car..."
Iona laughed "Well if sleeping in a car is your thing, Moyra, the car that landed me here wouldn't be for you." The blond flicked her hair and grinned at Gwen and Lyla "I, Iona Yates, borrowed daddy's favorite car for a joy ride. It was fast, sporty, and built for two in theory only." She sighed "Shame it ended up in the river. Daddy was so mad that HE pressed the charges. When the judge mentioned this place, Daddy said I'd come here." Iona giggled a bit "What about you, Red? What brought you here?"
"Gwen, my name is Gwen." she looked out the window a moment as she continued to rub Lyla's back. "I guess I'm here because I found out that the reason my Besty was... gone, was because the owner of a nearby shop was taking advantage of her. The poli weren't doing anything about it so I took matters into my own hands."
"What happened?" Moyra asked, hugging her knees to herself as she sat back up on her new bed.
"The bastard got caught with photos... he's going away for a while. I went down for **** and arson. For some reason the judge pitched this as being my 'last, best, and possibly only chance at redemption.' I guess, you could say my vacation here cost me a hand full of the shop keeper's teeth, and the life of my best friend."
Moyra smiled back at the redhead "If we get out of here, please take me to her grave. I would like to thank her for giving you to us."
Iona laughed "That sounds like a great idea Moyra!" She smiled at Gwen "Take me to, please."
Lyla placed a hang on Gwen's knee "Me to. We owe her at least that much."

The first week, at least for the girls, seemed to be an unyielding string of humiliations, punishments, and work with little in the way of gratitude or rest. The mornings would start the same. The alarm would go off, five thirty on the dot. Gwen was usually the first to rouse from her slumber, and shamble over to turn off the alarm.

The first day she was stunned to find that Moyra was already awake, and just sitting there in the dark, waiting for the others. It was a little off putting, but Gwen thought little of it at the time; but it kept happening. As it turned out, Moyra was having trouble sleeping. The bed was too soft, too spacious, and the ceiling too high compared to the car she was used to.
It wasn't long before Gwen discovered that Iona was having her own issues with the bed. She kept complaining that the mattress was too hard, and was clearly not sleeping restfully. Those would be the least of Iona's issues though. The morning shave and shower routines clearly got to her. She was clearly not comfortable being naked in company, and the showers seemed purpose built to make the girls face each other while cleaning themselves.

The girl's first task after dressing was to head for the kitchen, which was down several dark and cramped halls from where they slept. There they would split into pairs, assigned on the task board, and get ready for breakfast. Two girls would cook, and two girls would ready the dinning-room, and set the table. When the food was done, all four girls would serve the five administrators and four boys before getting to sit down themselves. Mr. Clayton would say grace, and the group could eat. The girls would then clean up, and again split up, this time the ones who did not cook would clean the dishes, as the cooks went off to start whatever chore of the day was assigned. This routine would prove hard on Iona as well. Where as Lyla was a shockingly good cook, Iona had never needed to learn before. She frequently burned the food, or failed to flip the eggs properly. Each time she failed, it was a minimum of 25 swats from Miss Sanders.
By the time breakfast was cleaned up, there was usually only enough time for the cleaning pair to do some lite dusting and sweeping before prepping for lunch. Unlike Breakfast, where all who lived there sat down to enjoy it, the lunches were usually individually delivered. Considering the time consuming nature of this, it was no wonder that the pair assigned to lunch usually only got through one or two rooms before running out of time.

The girls would, all four, meet up again to prepare for dinner. The Administrators made sure to impress upon the girls that dinner was to be 'a home coming for the boys,' they were to eat well and be in pleasant company. The girls were each expected to be polite, smile, and quiet unless spoken to directly. Lyla hated it, feeling that they were being told to play housewife for strangers. Gwen didn't disagree, but was less insulted than Lyla was about it.

When dinner was over, the girls would clean up, and again brake off into pairs. Two would wash the dishes and take out the rubbish, while the other two would check on the boys as they relaxed. They were expected to be accommodating, fetching refreshments and snacks if needed. The occasional shoulder rubs were also encouraged. In this, even Iona felt insulted. "We're working ourselves to the bone, and need to tend to their needs every night. Who's tending to ours?" Gwen didn't have an answer. She only knew that if they spoke out, they'd be punished. They were far enough from the nearest town that they'd never make it on their own, so escape was hardly an option. They were, for all intensive proposes, prisoners there.

After eight o'clock, the girls were free to do their own things. Iona and Lyla tended to hide out in their room. Moyra liked to sit outside and enjoy the cool night air. At first Gwen just wandered around the halls aimlessly; but on day four she found herself in the old chapel. There was something hauntingly familiar about the chapel. Despite her days being long, and filled with cleaning and chores, Gwen found relaxation in cleaning the chapel. Dusting out the cobwebs, polishing the wood, and making it look good, little by little.