Morning. Elise steps out into the hallway to find another detention notice taped to her door. There's at least a half dozen infractions listed on it, but she doesn't even glance over them. Crumpling and tossing out these things has become standard chore for her. There's been dozens since her time here, and El's infractions could fill a phone book. But she'd have to be crazy to actually answer the call. She's heard rumors about the Basement. So she just moseys on to her first class, thinks nothing of it.

Halfway through class and she's half-asleep, clueless to the teacher's prattling, keeping herself occupied by scribbling plans in her notebook. Detention comes to her. Class is interrupted by a hall monitor. Which one? Well, it doesn't really matter. They're all the same, indistinguishable blondes with porn star bodies, ice blue eyes, and grips like steel vises. She calls them the Stepford Monitors. Got to be at least a dozen of them. Girls rumor that they're sisters, but they never attend classes, don't seem to keep residence in the dorms, and only show up when something bad's going down. She doesn't even address the professor, simply stepping in front of him and rudely interrupting his lecture. "Elise Renfroe? You're going to have to come with me." There's not much she can do but shuttle her belongings into her backpack and go along with the other girl.

She doesn't say anything to El as she grabs the girl by the elbow, dragging her roughly down the hall. Legs are much longer than Elise's, unburdened by El's stack of books, and she's left stumbling as she's pulled down the hallways, through unknown back corridors of administrative and faculty hallways, a whole warren of forgotten passages. El grumbles, but the girl just smirks in response. In addition to the laundry list of past infractions, El's uniform certainly doesn't meet dress code standards: a pair of violet pumas, a near knee-length skirt that's a twist of purple and black. At any other boarding school it would be considered scandalous. Here, they'd argue it's too long. A Pantera shirt is tucked into the skirt, and candy-violet lipstick matches the ensemble. They descend down staircase after staircase, until she's absolutely lost, buried levels below anywhere in this school El's dared venture, a heavy wooden and iron door set before the two of them.

"Enjoy yourself... the girl purrs in her ear, a flicker of tongue combing the inner curve of El's ear. The heavy door is pulled open by the girl with ease, and Elise is shoved through by a square hand to her ass. The door slams shut behind her, leaving nothing but a slim, disembodied twist of light to to give her bearings. She pulls herself to her feet, swiveling quick to find the doorway she just stumbled through seems to have up and vanished. The passageway she's stepped into seems ancient, heavy cold stone damp with mist, imposing walls to her back and sides, and in front of her, rough-cut stairs descending seemingly forever. They're ancient, slippery, steep and uneven. And without any other options, bag slung over her shoulder, she descends.

The gray woman reclines peacefully and turns another page in her book with a soft rustle of paper. She'd decided to wait here in a room off the furnace she lairs in for the guest promised earlier. The thought of being chosen to specifically to break down one of the more rebellious girls still curls her lips into a pleased grin. Truly, she had taken Mother's place now. Another page rustles in the musty tome preserved carefully near the dry heat of the raging flames. Thick concrete walls dull the fires' influence, as does the long ascent up steps attached to that small, simple room.

She's been waiting for the girl all day. A note to expect her had been dropped off by one of the false students that policed the campus where faculty would be too brazen and obvious around the same time Elise had discovered her own notice. Plans were already in motion then to enforce the detention, of course, since she'd ignored so many previous summons.

At the sound of footsteps, she snaps the bound parchment together and drops the tome unceremoniously on the small, simple, metal table between her chair and the door. No other furniture adorns the simple box of a room, and the only other exit is a heavy iron door shut tightly to preserve each room's temperature. Bare feet, oddly devoid of callous despite that, settle on the floor to lift smooth gray legs wrapped only in darker gray shorts. One hand smooths the open, pocket-covered vest laying loosely over her ample chest and barely concealing coal-black areolae. Her other hand snatches the simple, rectangular reading glasses from her face as she steps around the table to meet the approaching student with naught but an open hand and the cold, steady gaze of eyes reminiscent of acid and slit vertically at the pupil. Fingers stretch out to silently demand the list of transgressions, though it is at best a formality.

By the time she makes her way down the steep, slippery steps, she's aching for breath, lungs hot fire, but breathing careful, slowly through her nose to hide it. Goose pimples dot exposed flesh, a shivering tremble despite the cold sweat trickling down her skin. Pink braless nipples, hard from the cold, brush raw against the fabric of her shirt. The pink detention slip just under her line of sight as eyes roam the spartan boiler room. She flicks the slip from her grip, "accidentally" letting it tumble into the light breeze, forcing the detention mistress to bend over to pick it up. The girl's gray. That's not a good sign. But she keeps her cool, dark brow a sweeping arch, ice blue eyes critical. "Regular Better Homes and Gardens down here, isn't it?" Her voice tense, near breathless, combing the room carefully. Legs are pressed together, arms curling crossed under small breasts. She knows this is a bad place to be, knows the hammer's going to fall soon, but for now she keeps her cool.

The strange woman bends at her knees to settle her hand on the discarded slip, then slowly rises back up to her full, impressive height. The edges of her lips curl into a small smile at Elise's joke.
"I'm sorry you find it so spartan. Some of us don't feel the need to surround ourselves with useless things." The glasses snap open and settle back onto the bridge of her nose as she unfurls the list and slowly scans it with a grim look. Her eyes flick over the rim of the lenses to lock with the icy blue ones staring back. "Would you like to make some token effort at refuting all of this, or are you going to just admit your guilt? To top this all off, you've managed to come down here in a most atrocious attempt at a uniform." Miss Steel sighs heavily and shakes her head as she refolds the pink slip of paper. "Take that mess off and drop it in the corner, then stand against the wall," she commands, waving a dismissive hand at the far edge of the room. A first test to see how compliant the rebellious student would be seemed in order, and the gray woman knows she has time before detention can properly be called to order. She settles back into her chair, slides the angular lenses from her face to the table, and watches Elise dispassionately.

"I don't know one way or the other, Ma'am. Haven't had a chance to read it at all, see, being slung all around the hallway by that blond bitch. And I didn't expect to be feeling around the school's catacombs, so I didn't think to bring my reading glasses." A roll of her eyes, which then settle in to follow the pipework tracing the ceiling of the boiler room, refusing to make eye contact with the statuesque woman. By now, it's getting hard to hide her cold, and she shakes like a wet cat, arms hugged around herself, and left standing, since Miss Steel's got the only seat in the house. Then she asks her to disrobe, and she's treated to a disbelieving snort. "Excuse me, Ma'am...? You're asking me to...." Oh boy. She just shakes her head, lips twisted in a mask of disbelief. "Nuh-uh. Sorry. No way." Smirk twisting upwards. "I don't swing that way, Ma'am. I'll just set my books up in the corner over here and spend my detention studying like a good girl." Of course, she knows that's not how it's going to be. She's not that dumb.

"There is so much misunderstanding in this room," says the gray woman. Her eyes narrow as the student in her care refuses to meet her gaze, and an exasperated sigh hisses from her throat. "In the first place, that question was largely rhetorical, and your complaint is a moot point. You've been notified numerous times in the past of your transgressions, and you know what you've done to deserve your time here." Water drips from the pipes coursing along the ceiling, and steam rises from their edges. Despite the cold wrapping Elise, those at least appear warm. "Now, I did not tell you to strip such that could ogle you or think fondly about playing with your breasts. In fact, it was not even a request. I will repeat it one more time, more clearly, so that you understand." Her right hand dips into the vest as the left presses slightly at the table. Legs curl slightly beneath the chair and settle tight against the smooth, cold floor in case she needs to pounce.
In the light of the single bare bulb dangling from the ceiling, a pair of bandage scissors glints in Steel's grasp. "You will take off your clothing and set it in the corner with your bag, or I will come over there and remove it for you." A glint in the yellow eyes and the barest twitch of the blank expression towards a grin hints that she hopes silently for a continuation to the girl's lack of compliance.

There's a long moment as Elise just glares at the tall woman, matching eyes with her, trying to read her expression. Elise is stubborn, but she's also practical. She can see that hungry glint in the bitch's eyes, can see her perched for forward momentum, knows that she's probably chomping at the bit to get atop El and tear off her clothes. So she breaks the staredown, backing off to the corner, eyes never leaving the woman until she reaches the wall. Then she turns away from her.

Bent over, she slowly unlaces her shoes, peering at the woman between her legs, searching for some sign of momentary hesitation or weakness, eyes briefly dancing the room for tools she can use to her advantage. She slips out of the shoes, lifting back to her feet. Fingers coil under her t-shirt, rolling it up the length of her lean, trim abdomen. Pert breasts spring to tight attention in the frigid air. The dark-inked fox on her left shoulder dances across the blade as shoulders bunch and shift, head repeatedly darting over her shoulder to sneak looks at the woman. Her attention stays there, watching the woman like a private strip tease as she reaches behind herself to unbutton the skirt, fingers hooked under panties and over skirt, wiggling them to socked feet together. Legs are hastily pressed tight, small hands covering small breasts, palm flush over sensitive nipples as she turns to face the woman. A trim triangle of pitch fur peeks from between her legs. Her brows are lowered in a glower, blue eyes slick as ice. "Satisfied?" she snarls.

For the duration of the silent challenge and the slow motions, those dispassionate eyes remain locked, unblinking, on Elise. Gray skin appears frozen in place, not even shifted by the subtle motions of breathing, with each moment of azure scrutiny. The young woman's search turns up naught but smooth walls and what she brought with her in anything resembling reach. Her tormentor holds all of the proverbial cards.
"Quite." The table stutters against the wall as the gray woman rises back to her feet at the end of the show. The rounded scissors vanish again into some unknowable pocket of the vest as she strides across the room to the heavy iron door. Deft fingers slide into the massive handle and effortlessly wrench it open with the soft groan of heavy hinges. As the passage swings open into the next room, a wave of warmth washes over the stripped student. The chill of the current chamber ebbs briefly away, though the dry heat promises a different sort of discomfort. Through a single long, soot-stained window, the larger chamber's only lighting pours through as the wavering flicker of the great inferno contained beyond. Another iron door is lined at its bottom by an orange glow seeping past it, and the far walls hold a brief string of manacles barely concealed within the stark shadows.
A simple table, identical in construction to the one in the colder room, is visible off to one side. Adorning it is a small collection of straightforward torture implements: a long black whip, a pair of heavy leather floggers, a wide wooden paddle, and various smaller devices lost in the shifting shadows. "Step inside and stand against the far wall with your hands over your head. Do not pause, and do not touch anything on the table." The subtle hope of disobedience is gone from Steel's eyes and voice. There is no real urgency within her, but the simple scheme formed in her mind does not want to be interrupted.

Eyes go bright wide. She can't help but smile: a sick, green, disbelieving smile. "You can't really believe... You stupid, insipid cunt. You think I'm just going to walk right down the slaughterhouse conveyor?" A shake of her head. Bangs fall into her eyes and she swivels, no chance to snatch her clothes or backpack. "I'll take a raincheck..." And she's hitting the stairs with full force, socked heels hitting the heavy stonework hard, slipping on the slick floor. Petite breasts bounce, legs pistons. Her chin almost cracks against a sharp stair corner and then she's scrambling up the steps on all fours, slipping, sliding, but desperately working her way up the endless stairwell.

((Sorry about the short post. I'm about to head out, but wanted to get a post or two in before the night starts))

"Bother." The word slips calmly out of her lips as the woman darts beyond her reach. "Good." Her voice changes into a dark hunger as the joy of what she's just been given settles into her mind. Four long, thin, smooth, gray legs, tapered at the end with the hook of a spider's foot, sprout from her back and launch her up the stairwell behind her prey. Her eyes glow in the darkness, and a loud string cracking echoes up the slick hallway as she closes the lead Elise has won.
"Come back, come back, my little fly! If you slip and fall, you may just die!" The rhyme booms behind the raven-haired woman as her pursuer curls around a tight corner and catches a glimpse of her with those unearthly eyes. "Ahah! My sweet, do not fear. Still your flight. Stay right here." Gray hands, wrapped in the shadows of the dark passage, reach out towards their clambering target.
((No worries. Chases need shorter posts))

The woman moves faster than Elise thought she could, but that's okay. She doesn't have far to go. She springs up the first few steps, stumbles. She'd almost slipped on a rough, crumbling corner on the way down, had counted the steps to reach the bottom from there. Now she fumbles for the faulty step, jerking free the piece of rubble, letting it settle smoothly into her grip. It's dark like obsidian, hard, scuffed from the sharp corner of the step, leaving a sharp mean edge to it. She palms it in her hand like a razor, lifting to her feet just as Steel barrels down on her. She waits until Steel's close, then Elise pivots on her right foot, bringing the sharp rock in a neat, sweeping lateral arc, forcing the full weight of her body against the woman as she comes hurtling in. She jams her makeshift weapon into her tormentor's side, twists sharply. Steel has nearly a foot in height advantage, but the steps narrow that advantage, her lips a pleased, malicious smirk. "Satisfied now, bitch?" she growls into the monster's ear.

Hands clench hard at Elise's shoulders as the improvised blade digs deep into the gray woman's flesh. The taller body coasts smoothly to a stop inches from her prey as those hands pull her closer with the blow. A deep cry flows from her lips, and her eyes shine brighter in the darkness. "Oh gods yes. Yes!" A deep shudder courses through the taller woman's body as a second moan, more recognizable as pleasured, shudders through her throat. "And here you said you didn't swing that way, but now you're giving me such bliss!" Her words flow fast from her lips as hungry fingers dig harder at the top of the student's arms to cling to her in a horrid embrace. The wound oozes yellow around the stone as lips seek their way towards Elise's neck. "Come, come, we'll go back downstairs to have more fun!" Something cold, flat, and metal slides around the naked woman to try and contain her for the upcoming journey.

Elise reels back in horror as the attack draws out the exact opposite reaction of what she was expecting. Her face contorts in hopeless shock, hand jerking back as the monster's sickly yellow blood trickles over her fingers, dribbling onto the steps below, weapon left buried in the wound. She wriggles and writhes in the entangled limbs of the taller woman, pink desperate flesh not concerned with hurting anymore, just trying to get away. El's nails dig into shoulder blades, knee finds stomach, as Steel squeezes her closer, wrapping around the girl like a spider devouring its prey. Thighs graze thighs, mismatched breasts tangling roughly together, the smaller girl kicking and screaming. "Get the fuck off me you crazy bitch!"

The screaming, fighting girl is pulled still tighter against her captor's body. A soft hand reaches away from the vice-like grip of the other arm and settles lightly on the back of El's head. "Shh. Don't make me drop you now." The four long limbs bear them both away from the treacherous steps and once more dig at the walls of the twining passage. They move slower this time as Steel attempts to soothe the terrified girl with soft words and a tight grip. "Just relax, and we'll get back downstairs soon enough. If you want to touch what's on the table this time, please do." A jarring step knocks the hunk of obsidian from her side and brings the creature to a halt as another sharp moan rips through her lungs. Her grasp weakens slightly, threatening to drop the woman the scant few feet to the slippery steps, and causes the wriggling forms to slide suddenly against one another with a tight press of skin to skin. Two legs still reach back behind her, which leaves the ascent as a poor option.

Sharp spider legs probe at her back, at the soft cheeks of her rump. She struggles as Steel smothers her close, less terrified than horrified, indignant. Then the woman's grip loosens, obsidian tumbling from her wound. El scrambles for the natural blade, fumbles, and it slips from her grip, slicing a thin razor of skin across her fingers. She hisses in pain, scrambling off of Steel's body, trying to make her way back up the steps but finding the arachnid legs holding her in place. Her head drops for a moment, hopeless, her expression buried behind a veil of dark hair, then she turns blue eyes up at Steel. Her smirk is a near sneer. "Okay. I wouldn't mind seeing what I could do with those tools down there."