The Schooling of Carolyn

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It didn't look like a pit. Carolyn had expected something … seedier. A run-down old hotel, perhaps, with women leaning out from the windows. Or maybe a half-converted jail. Even one of those tastelessly ostentatious modern buildings. Not this. The Academy looked like a very expensive resort; high in the mountains, far from the modern world. Stone walls bordered the manicured grounds, and the limousine drove for what seemed like miles after passing through high wrought-iron gates.

She spent the ride wondering what she had done. What she'd gotten herself into. It had all seemed reasonable enough the night before-seen through the bottom of a shot-glass, shock and orgasm as intoxicating as the drink. But now, alone in the back of a limo, far from the only town, the only life she'd ever known, it seemed completely insane. Surreal.

Discipline.

The stranger who had told her of the Academy had whispered it, and it was embossed on the thick rag-bond card she'd been given. The driver had murmured it just before closing the car door. Discipline.

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