One of the scouts found a source of females.

Twenty minutes outside of Orava, down a winding, beat up county road, there was a school for wayward young women. Anger and frustration emanated from the place, burning and enchanting like a fine liquor, cutting and rushing like a potent drug.

The worn granite blocks were stacked three stories high. The lawn was kept short, the shrubs neat. A tall, iron fence surrounded the grounds.

We watched eagerly as the scout moved in close. The sun began to sink low as it jumped the fence, moved from one piece of cover to the next. It hid behind hedges and raised flower beds.

The girls stood at the feet of their beds. Snow white socks ran up to just below their knees. The hems of their plaid skirts reached to just above their knees.

One was in different attire; she wore a pair of short, colorful socks. And nothing else. 

Lovely brown hair in a long ponytail, the hair between her legs the same color. Her smile and sparkling eyes were full of belligerent mischief.

A darkhaired girl with glasses grinned, giggled, frantically gestured. The naked woman only smirked.

A nun entered the room. She could have been quite attractive, even as the years took their toll. This she had rejected coldly. Her movements, her face lacked any passion besides contempt.

The nun’s eyes went wide when they took in the sight of the nude woman, “Jill! What are you doing?”

Her response was said with farcical innocence, “Getting ready for dinner.”

The girls laughed, the sound a pure symphony of youthful happiness.

“Why are you wearing nothing but socks?” the nun growled.

“Because the floor is cold!” she replied, her grin that of a trickster goddess.

[That one. She will sire something wonderous.]

The nun allowed a burst of rage to come out, “You vivacious slut! You deranged harlot! You make me sick! And to think that you wonder why you are in here. You will wonder how you got to hell too.”

When she had finished yelling the fury disappeared, as if she had operated a valve, letting out a measured amount of the emotion. What replaced it was a simmering anger, mixed with sharp disappointment.

The nun’s next question was both a demand and a plea, “Aren’t you embarrassed to be the only one naked?”

“No,” the young woman said. This was a lie. Little flicks of discomfort were mixed with the fun that she was having.

“Well, maybe you will be when I make that rump of yours glow bright red. Is that what you want?”

The smile broke, faded ever so slightly, “No.”

“Too bad. Go get me the paddle. Then you will bend over.”

Her compliance was slow, fed by belligerence so that her movements were sassy. The smile stayed, even as she bent over. In her eyes, dread built up. We could feel it too. And we could feel the emotions of the other girls. Many also felt fear. Some amusement. In more than a few, hints, or even tidal waves of sexual arousal. We reveled in these blessings.

The first smack made the girls start. The tremor ran through the victim’s body. Pain conquered the storm of rebellious bliss and hints of embarrassment. The teacher’s expression stayed the same. No joy rang from her mind, no twisted needs met the limitless gaze of our scout. 

A pink rectangle marred the skin on her bottom. The second blow came. Jill cried out. A pause, three more swats, dulled out in a mechanical fashion. Jill stayed bent. Her lip trembled. The whispers and little giggles of the other inmates cut her. The pink rectangle was now joined by others, the general shade of the target brightening, turning more toward red.

A desperate attempt to focus on something other than the agony was stopped by the next strike. The urge to move, to take off running.

The final blow struck the angry red skin, this one the hardest of them all. A wave of flesh rippled across her behind. The merciless wood stayed in place for a few seconds, before it was removed. Now there were dark spots among the glow.

The nun told her to straighten up. She was handed the paddle, ordered to take it back to its spot on the wall. This time she moved much quicker. All eyes were fixed on her, on the damaged part of her naked body. And she felt so very naked, more so than at any other point in her life.

“You will wear the proper clothes at all times during your stay with us. If this happens again, I will make you go nude for a week, and I will keep your bottom red the whole time. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Smith.”

Disgust in the older woman’s voice, “Alright, you deviants. You’ve had your fun for the night. As soon as she gets dressed go to the dining hall.”

The teacher left the room.

“You really pissed that old bat off this time!” one girl exclaimed.

“Good,” Jill declared, the trembling in her voice kept under control, some dignity kept intact.

The girl with the dark hair and glasses made a show out of examining poor Jill’s flaming cheeks, “Damn, Jill, she really fucked you up!”

“Get away from me, Anna!” Jill exclaimed, shaking her away. Anna’s smile faded and she did as asked, heading for the doorway.

 “Now you look even more like a baboon!” A girl that wore her blond hair in pigtails yelled.

Jill frowned, gave her retort, “At least I have an ass! Your behind looks like an old man’s!”

Outrage erased the young woman’s mirth. The speed with which she closed the distance and struck a blow was surprising. The slap was as loud as the swats had been. Pulling away, Jill fell, her tortured rear landing on the floor.

Jill let out a squeal, flailed around. The other girl dove on top of her, wearing a face like that which would be cut into some ancient war helmet. Balled fists came down in quick, clumsy swings. Those attacks that landed hit her opponent’s face and head.

The faces of the other girls were at once enticing and terrible. Cheers and laughter filled the room. Like sharks, the girls moved in around the catfight, watching it like it was some great event.

Jill tucked one of her smooth legs in. A socked foot lashed out in one deliberate motion. The blow landed on her stomach. She fell to one side, clutching her belly, shouting about the pain. After rolling around for a bit, she ended up on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her skirt was pulled up, adding to the indignity of her ordeal. Jill stood up, checked to see if any blood had been drawn.

“You stupid bitch,” the girl on the floor wheezed.

Jill made no sound. All she did was bring her foot down, the cotton covered sole landing on her enemy’s cotton covered crotch. Mouth agape, eyes locked open, she sat up. The cheers and giggles of the other girl’s ceased completely, like the animals in a forest when a predator passes through. After keeping it in place for a few seconds, Jill removed her foot.

The victor turned and walked away slowly, presenting her glowing behind to her fallen foe. The girl rolled onto her side, her hands between her legs, which were kept tightly shut. She wept as Jill got dressed.

Around midnight the men that would impregnate them were discovered. The building was some distance away. The trip from the harvest to the school would take several hours.

[Soon, my army will be born, the final army.]