This story is pure fiction. Any similarities between the names, places and events portrayed therein and actual people living or dead, places or events are purely coincidental. As always, I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Originally appeared on the Bravenet Forum.
It was the spring of 1953, and Mrs. Margaret Prust taught French history and literature at an exclusive liberal-arts college. In addition to her duties on the faculty, Mrs. Prust served as a "house-mother" in return for a complementary apartment in one of the womens' brownstone-like housing units. Mrs. Prust was grateful for this arrangement as she enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere and the close-knit life on campus. The excitement of living amongst the young coeds filled a void in her life that was created by her children's departure for college and her husband's departure as a result of a divorce.
Mrs. Prust's charges often sought out her advice or just came to for for a shoulder to cry on. Mrs. Prust derived great satisfaction from the feeling that she was giving the girls valuable guidance during their transition to adulthood.
Mrs. Prust was a fastidious individual. She always took care to groom herself in a manner befitting a dignified female faculty member and role model for her young charges. In 1953 this meant wearing a dress with a full-pleated skirt, stockings, garter-belt, girdle, a full-slip and often a petticoat as well. Girdles in those days were considered essential foundation garments and no decent woman would step outside without wearing one. Mrs. Prust was a strikingly attractive woman who maintained her appearance through a regimen of swimming in the campus pool.
The young women under Mrs. Prust's care all hailed from fine families and had been given the best of upbringings. Mrs. Prust considered it part-and-parcel of her duties to see to it that none of the young ladies veered off the straight-and-narrow. An invited guest-speaker and noted attorney made a point of reminding the house-mothers of their responsibilities toward the coeds. Colleges in those days were regarded under the law as being in loco parentis (having the responsibilities and authority of parents in the absence of the natural parent).
The task of "parenting" was becoming more difficult as of late due in part to the burgeoning women's' liberation movement. Mrs. Prust was all in favour of expanding the realms of opportunity for women, but nonetheless she hoped that women's' liberation wouldn't put an end to the finer points of being a lady. The fact that Swanson College had recently gone coed only seemed to accelerate the forces of change. Increasingly, Mrs. Prust found herself and her band of assigned dorm-monitors having to scrutinize the girls' activities closely in order to protect their virtue. The girls themselves were becoming more rambunctious, always testing their limits, answering back and relentlessly questioning authority.
The most pressing issue Mrs. Prust faced for the moment was a rash of curfew violations. The young women (Mrs. Prust continued to think of them as "girls" -- her being "en loco parentis") were supposed to be signed into their dormitories by 10:00 P.M. on school nights and 11:00 P.M. on all other evenings. Nonetheless, on warm nights when Mrs. Prust left her windows ajar for a bit of air, she would be be stirred from late-night-reading or sleep by the sound of hushed voices and giggling. Her suspicions were more-often-than-not confirmed by the tell-tale sounds of women scurrying about in the courtyard in high-heels as their dates drove off into the night with their headlights off or disappeared into the trees as they snuck back to the far-side of campus where the men's' dormitories were located.
The house-mothers did catch a few young ladies and had them assigned to serve in the campus kitchen, suspended their weekend night-out privileges and had them sit in the downstairs-lobby under the watchful eye of one of the house-mothers, and other conventional disciplinary steps. Mrs. Prust hoped that by making examples of those caught-in-the-act, she might deter some of the others. Nonetheless, Mrs. Prust was still aware that a large number of violators were never caught and paid no heed to the possible consequences.
The last straw came when Mrs. Prust stationed herself at her window late in the evening on a moonlight Saturday night. In short order, Mrs. Prust's eyes adjusted to the faint illumination furnished by the moonlight giving her a good view of the entire housing quad. Shortly thereafter, along came two girls who talked-in-whispers and then paused briefly under a tree. Mrs. Prust couldn't identify who they were as they only appeared as silhouettes, but she could tell that the girls had leaned up against the tree and removed their high-heels. More scandalous still, the girls appeared to lift their skirts and roll down their stockings. The girls emerged from beneath the tree and made their way toward the brownstone opposite Mrs. Prust's window. It was apparent that the girls were holding their high-heels in one hand as they padded across the neatly groomed lawn. The girls went around the side of the building. Mrs. Prust heard the sound of a window being opened. She could just make out the figures of the girls but had no means of judging just which window they had approached. The windows were twelve-feet off the ground and Mrs. Prust wondered just how the girls were going to get in. She saw first one girl than the other climb what must have been a rope ladder, then the girls were gone. Such Nerve! Young ladies partially undressing in the courtyard, climbing ladders, this behaviour was intolerable!
Mrs. Prust decided that the only way to catch the greatest number of violators would be a surprise bed-check. The bed-check would be staged on a Saturday night when some big event would be going on in town. Mrs. Prust reported her observations along with her proposed plan to catch the responsible parties to Mrs. Beverly Wilson, the Dean of Women. A few-days later, Mrs. Wilson took her aside just before the weekly faculty meeting and quietly passed along the good news that Mrs. Prust's proposal had been approved by the College President.
Now that Mrs. Prust had obtained the necessary administrative approval, she set about planning the operation in detail. Mrs. Prust discretely enlisted the help of several other house-mothers. Mrs. Prust decided that the Curie building (named after the famous female researcher who studied radiation and uranium -- Marie Curie) would be targeted for spot-bed-check on the following Saturday evening. Four colleagues would be posted to nearby buildings to detain anyone attempting to climb into windows, while the house-mothers inside Curie Hall would carry out the bed-check operation.
Mrs. Prust joined Mrs. Carla Dewey, the Curie building house-mother in her apartment for a light supper and the two women sat quietly at the kitchen-table grading papers as the evening wore-on. At nine o'clock both ladies took a break for a tea and and Mrs. Dewey asked Mrs. Prust just what sort of punishment would be in store for the violators. Mrs. Prust replied that as none of the usual punishments seemed to be having the desired effect, perhaps it was time to re-think the consequences for curfew violators. Mrs. Dewey taught American History and mentioned that in the colonies misbehaving women were sometimes publicly dunked in the pond while fully-clothed.
"Just imagine the effect a dunking would have on one of those expensive fancy-pleated dresses the young ladies wear. All those outfits are strictly dry-clean only!", exclaimed Mrs. Dewey with a glint in her eye. "Carla! you're not seriously suggesting...", Mrs. Prust's voice trailed off as she grasped the earnest expression on Mrs. Dewey's face. "Well", resumed Mrs. Prust, perhaps you may have an idea there. Just imagine how their fancy hairdos and makeup would look after a dunking! Some of these girls spend so much time preening themselves, it's a wonder they have any time for worthwhile pursuits whatsoever. The girls would be devastated by a public dunking all-dolled-up in their prettiest things!. It would sure to be a shame to ruin such pretty outfits, but perhaps that would teach the girls a lesson."
At precisely 11 P.M., the women silently gathered their things and headed for the interior door. Mrs. Dewey opened the door onto the hallway and the two women promptly exited the apartment. Proceeding quickly, the ladies silently made their way to the lobby. A place that was coincidentally the only room where men were allowed whenever they came to visit one of the residents. Mrs. Dewey threw the deadbolt on the front door and locked it using one of the keys on a large key ring that she carried with her. "Let's begin on the first floor and work our way up.
Room A2 is just ahead of us on the left."
With three authoritative raps on the door, Mrs. Dewey called-out "Bed-Check!" as she turned the key in the lock and opened the door to room A-2. As she swung open the door, Mrs. Dewey was greeted by a surprised looking Sue-Anne sitting on her bed dressed in a nightgown.
Anne-Marie's room-mate Stephanie was nowhere in sight but just then Mrs. Dewey heard the sound of running water in the bathroom and spotted a Stephanie peering around the corner--toothbrush still in her mouth. Mrs. Dewey smiled as she said, "Sorry girls. I didn't mean to startle you. Just making sure you're all with us this evening. Remember ladies, don't leave the room or the monitor outside will put you on report. Good night!". In the next instant, Mrs. Dewey gently closed the door.
Mrs. Dewey rapped on the door to room A-3, identified herself and announced bed-check as she turned the key on the lock and opened the door. "Good evening Lisa!", said Mrs. Dewey pleasantly. Just wanted to see that you were in for the night.
"Oh", said a flustered Lisa, "I'm fine Mrs. Dewey."
"Good", replied Mrs. Dewey, and where is Susanne?"
Lisa put her lips together and all that came out was "UUmmmmm", as her eyes darted this way and that, "Suzanne went upstairs to study with some of the other girls. I'm sure she'll be back soon", said Lisa hopefully.
"Suzanne knows the rules, she should be in her room by 11 P.M. Just who is she studying with?" pursued Mrs. Dewey.
Lisa trotted out a few names in quick succession and followed up with, "of course she may be working with someone else."
"Studying -- Is that your final answer Miss Kruthers?"
From Mrs. Dewey's tone of voice and the fact that she had just referred to her as "Miss Kruthers", Lisa knew that Mrs. Dewey meant business. Still, Sally might be back from town soon and Lisa would tell her then to report to Mrs. Dewey. Nobody would be any the wiser. Of course, Lisa had no idea that the Curie Hall was under surveillance from outside.
"Very well.", replied Mrs. Dewey coolly as she paused to jot down a notation on her clipboard, "I'm sure we'll find Suzanne somewhere in the building if you say so. Good night Miss Kruthers".
Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust exchanged knowing glances, without speaking a word both women understood the other's thoughts. If Lisa's story 'held water' then Suzanne would get a verbal warning and no-more, if Lisa was covering-up for Suzanne, then both girls would certainly 'land in hot water'.
All was well in room A-4. Room A-6 was a different story altogether. After carrying out her rehearsed announce-knock-entry sequence, Mrs. Prust found herself standing in the middle of an empty room. Just then, the bathroom door swung open and a fully-dressed Karen Pierce entered the room as she quickly shut the door behind her. "Good Evening Mrs. Dewey, I was just getting ready for bed.", proffered Miss Pierce as she put-on a forced smile.
"Good Evening Miss Pierce", replied Mrs. Dewey coolly, "it looks as though you just came in. Lucky for you that you've made bed-check. Would you know where Miss Hanson is?"
"I'm not sure", replied Karen, "I think she wanted to go over some history homework with one of the other girls. As soon as she gets back, I'll tell her you were looking for her."
"You girls know you're supposed to be in your OWN rooms by 11:00 P.M. on weekends. I'll have to speak with Miss Hanson about this."
"Jenny is really working hard to keep her grades up, please don't be too cross with her Mrs. Dewey.", implored Karen.
Mrs. Dewey and Miss Pierce continued to talk for a few more minutes. All this time, Mrs. Prust watched Karen fidget while she blocked the bathroom door. Mrs. Dewey had finished questioning Miss Pierce when Mrs. Prust looked Karen in the eye and asked, "You wouldn't mind if I stepped into the powder room for a moment to wash my hands would you Miss Pierce?"
Karen's eyes widened as the girl tried in vein to conceal her panic. Karen recovered as best she could, "Well, Mrs. Prust, I haven't been feeling well and the bathroom is somewhat of a mess. I've had a bought of stomach flu and I'd feel dreadful if anyone else caught it."
"That didn't prevent you from going out this evening now did it." chided Mrs. Prust "I do appreciate your concern for me dearie, I think I'd like to use your wash-room all the same", as she eased Karen out of the way one hand while opening the door with the other.
The bathroom was empty. Nothing seemed out-of-place. Mrs. Prust was about to leave the room she noticed that the bathroom window was wide-open. On closer inspection, she saw the two hooks of rope ladder were over the sill. At the same moment, she heard the sound of footsteps scampering off into the night. "Mrs. Dewey! I've found a ladder." Mrs. Dewey charged into the bathroom. "Someone must have just climbed out while we were talking. I heard footsteps outside too!".
Karen's head was spinning as all this transpired. She had almost pulled it off except for that nosey Mrs. Prust. "You've had a visitor in here haven't you Miss Pierce!", exclaimed Mrs. Dewey as she pointed a finger accusingly at poor Karen. "A Boyfriend??", continued Mrs. Dewey before Karen could reply. "Now, before we move on let me tell you something Miss Pierce, you are in hot water young lady. Now it's only a matter of just how deep you'll go."
"All right!", shrieked a teary-eyed Karen. "As for Jenny, I mean Miss Hanson, she just left for town and won't be back until around 2 A.M."
"Miss Pierce, I can't begin to express just how disappointed I am in you. You've been disciplined for curfew violations before and each time you swore that you would clean up your act. Well, I have news for you Miss Pierce, this time around we'll 'clean up your act' for you (or at least give her a good rinsing-off)." Mrs. Dewey was already picturing how the lovely Miss Pierce would look sopping-wet in her party outfit. Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey then left the room.
All was well in rooms A-5 through A-9, but the ladies hit paydirt in room A-10. The room was completely empty. At Mrs. Prust's suggestion, the ladies looked in the bathroom and discovered that the window was left ajar and a rope ladder had been hung from the sill. "It appears as though we've bagged two more night owls." commented Mrs. Dewey as she raised the window, pulled in the ladder, closed the window and locked it. "Christina and Linda will be in for quite a shock when they return later this evening!". Mrs. Prust noted the names of on her clipboard.
The girls in room A-11 were accounted for satisfactorily. It was nearly 11:45 P.M., "Time flies when you're having fun", commented Mrs. Prust wryly. Room A-12 was the last room on the first floor to be checked. The ladies entered A-12 with practised aplomb and were greeted by Nancy Davids and Nan Biddle. The girls had concealed themselves under the covers and had hoped to fool Mrs. Dewey. Unfortunately, Mrs. Dewey quickly recognized the girls and ordered them to get out of bed. Much to her surprise, the girls were dressed to go out on the town. Party dresses, heels, pocketbooks, the works!
"You think we're fools don't you??", asked Mrs. Dewey as she tapped her foot on the floor and glared at the girls who stood before her. The young women fluffed out their skirts and fidgeted nervously as they stood there in silence. "Let's check out the powder room shall we", said Mrs. Dewey as she pushed past the girls, flung open the door and snapped on the light. She saw nothing out of the ordinary at first, but then heard something move behind the shower curtain. She reached over and yanked back the curtain to reveal three young women, dressed-to-the-nines and standing in the bathtub with looks of shock and disbelief on their faces.
"Well Well, what do we have here.", said Mrs. Dewey as she folded her arms across her chest and smiled wickedly at the girls. "Miss Anders, Miss Palmer and Miss Hanes, none of you live in this room."
"Mrs. Dewey, we were just..", began Maria Hanes as she lifted her skirt and gently placed her right heel on the bathroom floor as she began to step out of the tub.
Maria was cut-off in mid-sentence by Mrs. Dewey who said, "Did I give you permission to step out of the tub?".
Well..", replied Maria Meekly, "no you didn't. I'm sorry Mrs. Dewey." as the pretty coed lifted her stockinged leg and gently lowered her high-heel clad foot back onto the floor of the tub. "I...I mean we weren't about to leave the building."
Mrs. Dewey spat back, "So! I find the three of you standing in a bathtub all-dressed-up and you say you weren't planning on leaving the building. Unless you're lying to me I suppose I can only conclude that the three of you were planning on having a bath! Well don't let me stop you girls, please get on with it!"
Mrs. Dewey paused for a moment before telling the stunned girls in a calm-but-authoritative voice, "Please remove your watches and jewellery and place them in your handbags."
The girls glanced at each other in shocked-silence as they set about removing their earrings, watches an necklaces and dropping them into their handbags.
"Thank you.", said Mrs. Dewey courteously as she collected the girls' purses and placed them on the counter. Miss Anders, as you're the one standing closest to the taps, would you mind being a dearie and running a nice hot bath."
Lillian Anders froze like a deer in the headlights and was unable to move.
"Chop Chop!" Exclaimed Mrs. Dewey as she clapped her hands together and exclaimed, "we haven't got all night!"
Almost in a trance, Lilly Anders bent over and opened the hot and cold water taps releasing a torrent of water into the tub. The water splashed up as it hit the porcelain floor of the tub and Lilly felt the droplets of warm water as they landed on her stockings. Lilly gingerly reached down and tested the water with her manicured hand. It was warm but not quite hot. As her hand interrupted the stream of water a small amount plashed over her instep and ran into her right high-heel. Lilly at once sensed the warmth of the water as it pooled around her toes inside her shoe.
"Uh, no, my heel is wet", she thought to herself. After a few more adjustments, Lilly had the water running nice and hot. It was then that Lilly noticed how quickly the water was puddling on the floor of the tub. The toes of her left high-heel were getting warm from the hot water she was standing in, though none had seeped into her expensive well-made shoe just yet. With a sigh, Miss Anders lifted the lever that clicked the plunger in place. The tub would began to fill quickly.
Lilly straightened herself up again and turned slowly to face Mrs. Dewey. You could hear a sort of splunk-splunk sound that Lilly's heels made as they dipped in-and-out of the water and made contact with the floor of the tub. The other girls in the tub looked down in disbelief as the growing pool of water in which Lilly stood stretched out to lick the bottoms of their pretty high-heels.
"Well young ladies", said Mrs. Dewey as she again clasped her hands together in anticipation, "don't just stand there looking dumbfounded. Sit yourselves down into the tub, and mind that you don't scratch the porcelain with your heels!."
Adrian Palmer stood at the far end of the tub at a point furthest away from the taps and the quickly expanding pool of water. Adrian was the first to gently lower herself down into the tub. Her full skirt and frilly petticoat made the job somewhat difficult, but soon enough she had rearranged her outfit and found herself sitting, almost cross-legged in the tub surrounded by the skirts of her pink dress piled in a circle around her.
Maria glanced fretfully out of the corner of her eye as the leading edge of the puddle made contact with the hem of her skirt and formed a growing shiny-red patch on her skirt.
Miss Anders bit her lip as she marshalled her resolve and eased herself down into the the pool of water at her end of the tub as gracefully as possible. As she bent her knees and eased her backside downward toward the surface of the water, Lillian Anders felt the warmth of the steam coming up from the water against her legs. Next, she noticed the wet-patches appearing on hem of her full-skirt. The wet patches quickly grew in size as she settled herself down into the tub. As she eased herself down onto the floor of the tub, the first sensation she experienced was a penetrating warmth in the seat of her panty-girdle. The warmth quickly spread to her nether regions as she settled herself onto the floor of the tub. The front of her skirt was still hanging over the side of the tub, and Lillian swept the front of her skirt into the tub where it made contact with the rising water and began to change colour at once, from a pastel-blue, to an almost dark-purple.
"Uuuhh, my dress!", thought Lilly as her lovely silk dress began soaking-up the destructive hot-water.
At the other end of the tub, Maria let out a faint gasp as Lillian settled herself into the rising waters. Lillian's act of sitting in the tub had displaced some of the water and created a wave that flooded Maria's girdle and soaked her skirts completely. Maria involuntarily shot a dirty look at Lillian. Lillian was too lost in thoughts of the destruction of her exquisite outfit to notice.
Miss Larissa Palmer looked down at the girls sitting in the tub on either side of her. Larissa knew that she would feel the wrath of Mrs. Dewey if she didn't dunk herself in the tub right now. Larissa's parents had always taught her that it was best to never let your enemies see that they've gotten your goat. Larissa smiled her sweetest smile as she curtsied and eased herself down into the hot water, spreading her skirts around her like a graceful dove spreading her plumage. Not once did she break her smile or take her eyes off the older women even as she felt the warm-wetness of the the water inside her girdle.
"AAhhhhhh", sighed Larissa as she pretended to bask in the comfort of the warm bathwater in spite of the damage it was doing to her lime-green dress. Just to add a flourish to the festivities, Larissa daintily submerged her floating skirts beneath the rising water until the air bubbled out from beneath them. Mrs. Dewey had to admit to herself that she admired the manner in which Larissa acted under the circumstances. For a brief moment, Mrs. Dewey's serious expression melted into a smile as she beamed at Miss Palmer and said, "Thank You", as she nodded in approval.
Mrs. Dewey quickly shifted back into all-business-mode and said in an authoritarian voice, "Miss Anders, as you are in charge of the taps, I expect you to make the water as warm as possible without being too hot while you fill the tub about two-thirds of the way. I want your skirts to have a thorough soaking so be sure you all submerge them well."
Mrs. Dewey turned to leave the bathroom, but before she left the room, Maria could no longer contain herself and scowled "Witch!" under her breath. Mrs. Dewey spun about on her heel and stared daggers at Maria as she said through clenched teeth "What was that Miss Hanes?".
"Nothing, Mrs. Dewey. I was only asking Miss Palmer to scoot over a bit so she wouldn't crush my skirt."
"Nice try dearie!", spat back Mrs. Dewey. "Apparently, it will take more than a good rinsing-out to clean up your act."
Just then, Mrs. Dewey's eyes fell upon a container of scented bubble-bath on the bathroom counter. "I think a good bubble-bath is in order for the three of you!"
Maria'a eyes grew wide in disbelief at about what was to happen. The other girls stared daggers at poor Maria as their outfits would be getting the royal treatment because Maria couldn't keep her mouth shut. Mrs. Dewey emptied a cap-full of the fragrant mixture near where Miss Anders sat at the tap-end
"Miss Anders, please agitate the water so the bubble-bath will fulminate."
Miss Anders worked quickly to agitate the water into a bubbly-froth. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Dewey measured out a second cap-full of bubble-bath.
In an effort to mitigate the situation as best as she could, Miss Palmer spoke up hopefully as she looked pleadingly at Mrs. Dewey. "Mrs. Dewey, if I'm not mistaken I believe only one cap-full is all that's necessary."
Mrs. Dewey looked down sympathetically at the pretty coed sitting in the rapidly filling tub in her wet-dress. "I'm aware of that, Miss Palmer, but those directions are for giving a bubble-bath to one unclad lady, and thanks to Miss Hanes I've been compelled to administer a bubble-bath to all three of you not to mention how much extra is required to take care of your lovely outfits. Mrs. Dewey didn't break eye-contact with Miss Palmer as she poured the second cap-full into the tub, Mrs. Dewey screwed the cap back on the bottle, put it back on the counter and wiped her hands together as a sign that her work was done and stood back to admire the results.
The results were comical indeed. Three pretty coeds fully-clothed in pretty dresses and matching heels, with their hair and makeup done to perfection, all crammed into a bathtub rapidly filling with water and floral-scented frothy suds. Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust stood by and took in the surreal scene. In short order the sudsy froth nearly obliterated the older women's view of the girls dresses as the bubbles nearly overflowed out of the tub. The spell was broken when Miss Anders turned off the taps as she announced respectfully, I've filled the tub as you asked Mrs. Dewey."
"Thank you, dear.", replied Mrs. Dewey contentedly.
"I want you to remain in the tub for a good soak. We'll be back shortly to check-in on you. Don't even think about getting out of the tub without our permission!"
Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust turned to leave the bathroom only to find the two coeds from the room standing in the doorway with their mouths open wide. "Catching flies girls!", extorted Mrs. Dewey. This time around we're serious about punishing curfew violations!".
The two women strutted out of the room and found themselves back in the corridor. In all the excitement, Mrs. Prust had stopped taking notes and so the women spent a few moments writing up the the girl's names, their stories and what transpired in the room.
"Well, at least we've finished with the first floor", commented Mrs. Prust.
"Not quite yet", replied Mrs. Dewey as she noticed the window at the end of the corridor ajar and the hooks of ladder over the sill. "Very clever. The girls did this so we can't narrow down the guilty parties to any one room. Let's wait here for a bit and see what turns up." The ladies sat down on a padded bench and waited in silence for a few minutes. Their wait was soon rewarded as they heard hushed female voices and the sounds of someone climbing the ladder. The window was quietly opened and Sharon Brooks slung her bare-leg over the sill as she skilfully entered the hallway. Without noticing the ladies in the shadows, Sharon put her heels down on the floor, turned to look out the window and beckoned to her cohort. Sharon helped Amy Rogers ease herself over the sill and into the hallway. Amy too carried her heels and stockings in one hand. Both girls were breathing heavily as Sharon quietly lowered the window almost to the point of being closed.
The girls were just about to head up the stairs when Mrs. Dewey stood up, cleared her throat and said, "And just where do you girls think you're going?" The coeds stared at the two dorm-mistresses in shocked disbelief as they fought to gather their wits.
"Mrs. Prust. Please put Sharon Rogers and Amy Brooks on report. Note the time as 12:10 P.M. Note that they climbed in using an unattended ladder at the end of the first floor corridor. Now girls I'm going to give you an opportunity to come clean and reduce the I want a full, written confession signed by each of you. Go to your rooms and write it down now. We'll be up to collect it. Of course if you leave anything out or refuse to tall us about any other girls you who are participating in this conspiracy to break curfew I I promise you you'll regret it. Now off with you!" The girls scampered up the stairs. Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey took-in rope ladder and locked the window. Any girls trying to sneak in would be in would be caught by the spotters stationed in the other buildings.
"Perhaps it's time we let those girls soaking in the tub rinse out their outfits. It ought to be good for a laugh and it should only take a minute."
Without knocking, the two women re-entered room A-14 and marched into the bathroom where the unhappy-looking coeds sat talking quietly to one another in their sudsy bubble-bath.
"Good Evening ladies!", announced Mrs. Dewey cheerfully. "You've had a good soak by now so why don't you stand up so we can have a good look at you."
The girls carefully eased themselves up into a sitting position and raised themselves out of the tub as gracefully as they could. Their dresses were covered in layers of suds, with only swatches of soaked-shiny material visible. Their once full skirts now hung limply against their legs and sudsy water poured from the hanging hems of their sopping-wet outfits. The girls used their hands to brush some of the suds off their outfits as best they could. Under the cold lights of the bathroom, their dresses shined from being water logged and the residual oils of the bubble-bath mixture.
There was a water-line that ended just beneath the girls shoulders. Apparently the shoulders of their dresses had gotten a bit sudsy but not wet. The contrast was remarkable. If you looked at the girls from their shoulders up, their coiffured hair and and tastefully-applied makeup was impeccable, but the rest of their outfits were a total fashion disaster!
"Time to rinse off! Miss Anders, release the drain plug and turn on the taps. Again I want the water as hot as possible. Once you've got it adjusted, re-direct the water out the shower head so you can rinse off.
Miss Palmer, the girl in the centre of the tub looked up apprehensively at the shower head. There was no place for her to hide. Just then, Miss Palmer heard the squeaking sound of the valve being turned by Miss Anders. Miss Palmer turned her head away from the the direction of the shower head. In the he next instant, Miss Palmer felt as though she was caught in a driving rainstorm. The water poured over her head soaking her lovely curled hair. She opened her eyes and spotted Maria covering her mouth in an effort to suppress an involuntary giggle.
Miss Palmer glanced down at the front of her dress and saw the suds running down off the shiny material. Miss Palmer gasped in dismay when when she saw that the elegant pleats of her skirt had disappeared as a result of her long soak in the tub. Miss Palmer also realized that her makeup was beginning to run as rivulets of water now poured down her face. "I must be an awful sight." she thought to herself. Miss Palmer again looked at Maria. To Miss Palmer it appeared as though Maria was enjoying the scene a bit too much. Miss Palmer extended a hand to Maria and pulled the coed toward her as she stepped out of the way of the spray from the shower.
"AAhhhh!", squealed Maria as she was pulled under the torrent of water. "Let me help you rinse out your dress a bit dear", purred Miss Palmer.
What could poor Maria do? She bit her lip as she relaxed under the shower and accepted her fate. After all, she couldn't start a ruckus in front of the dorm-mistresses. Through the torrents of water, Maria spotted Miss Anders.
Miss Anders had positioned herself just at the edge of the spray of the shower and was doing a fine job of rinsing out her dress without getting so much as a drop of water on her hair or a smudge on her makeup. "I'm not going to come out of here looking like a wreck while she looks all prim and proper.", thought Maria to herself.
"Let's help Miss Anders rinse out her dress", commented Maria as politely as she could. Miss Palmer instantly caught the gist of Maria's comment and pulled Miss Anders under the shower. "Don't be timid. You've got to get all the bubblebath out of your lovely outfit!", said Miss Palmer as she winked at Maria. All the curl faded from the ends of Miss Ander's straight shoulder-length hair and it hung in long strands that clung to the top of her sopping-wet dress. Mrs. Dewey purred contentedly as she watched the girls ruining each others hair and makeup.
"Count on female vanity.", thought Mrs. Prust as she fought tenaciously to hold back her laughter. The entire scene of three sopping-wet drenched cuties was hysterically funny. As for the coeds themselves, their manifest unhappiness with their predicament could be easily discerned by the looks on their faces as they looked down and surveyed their ruined outfits. The hot water would certainly cause their dresses to shrink. When dry, their clothes would have water spots, not to mention oily residue from the bubblebath.
Mrs. Dewey was ready to let the soaking-wet girls return to their rooms to change out of their wet things, but Mrs. Prust had other ideas. Mrs. Prust whispered in Mrs. Dewey's ear, "I don't want these girls warning the others. Let's have them 'cool their heels' in the tub a for a while. Besides, we don't want them tracking water all over the hallways."
"You've made some good points.", whispered Mrs. Dewey. Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust watched the girls shower down for a few more minutes until at last Miss Anders turned off the taps and looked over at the dorm mistress. "You've done a good job rinsing off young ladies. Too bad you didn't manage to save your lovely hairdos. Now I'd like you girls to wring out your dresses and dry off as best you can. We can't have you wandering the building dripping water all over the place. We'll return later this evening and let you know when you can go to your rooms."
Without a word, the three coeds began gathering the hems of their sopping-wet dresses and wringing out the water. Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey enjoyed watching the coeds struggle to wring the water from their outfits. After a few minutes, Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey left the girls alone to tend to their outfits.
On the second floor, there were a total of eight girls out of thirty who were not present for bed-check. Three rooms on the second floor were entirely empty. In the rooms where only one girl was present, Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust coerced the occupant into squealing on their room-mates.
As the ladies were about to go up to the third floor they heard the fire door at the end of the third floor hallway open and the sounds of two sets of high-heeled shoes clip-clopping on the landing. Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey waited quietly just behind the stairs for the girls to appear. As the girls reached the second-floor landing, Mrs. Dewey said, "Stop where your are! Turn around and face me!"
Miss Laura Simms and Miss Emma Watson found themselves caught in the stairwell by the dorm-mistress. Both girls were fully-dressed in party dresses and heels, and had put on matching shawls as protection against the night chill.
"A bit late to be going out for the evening isn't it ladies?", asked Mrs. Dewey sarcastically. "Mrs. Prust, please take down their names and note the time as 2:15 A.M.--attempted departure!"
"We were just going downstairs to visit with the other girls", said Miss Simms unconvincingly.
"Right!", chimed in Miss Watson. "You're both dressed up for a night on the town. Mrs. Prust you're my witness as to their state of dress. Add a charge of lying for both these girls, I shudder to use the word 'ladies'. You've both landed yourselves in hot water and by lying to us you'll only be going in deeper. We'll escort you girls down to room A-15. You'll wait there until we return for you, is that clear?"
"Yes, Mrs. Dewey" answered the defeated coeds in unison as they bowed their heads in shame.
On the third floor, Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust discovered five more girls absent. Again, in cases where the room-mate was found, the sole occupant was quickly convinced to rat out the missing room-mate. It was now almost three in the morning. Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey wearily made their way downstairs to the first floor. The women briefly visited A-15 to inform the coeds that they could return to their rooms. The women discovered that the while the soaked coeds were waiting, the other girls in A-15 had made some catty remarks about them. The soggy coeds overpowered their tormentors and proceeded to dunk them in the tub while pouring shampoo all over their outfits! Addressing the now soaking-wet tormentors, Mrs. Dewey commented, "You girls had no business tormenting your colleagues after their bath. Now I suppose you girls have learned the meaning of 'madder than a wet hen!'
Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey returned to Mrs. Dewey's apartment. Mrs. Prust phoned the other house-mothers and got a final accounting of any girls were caught by the spotters and to thank them for their assistance over the course of the long night. After Mrs. Prust hung up the receiver, she turned to Mrs. Dewey and said "You'll be pleased to know that our colleagues have caught a number of girls from the other buildings as well. I've told everyone to get some sleep. We'll meet at 11:30 for brunch and assemble all the evidence we have. The next task will be to decide on appropriate punishments.
On Monday afternoon, Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust met with the Dean of Women to report the results of their investigation. Mrs. Wilson was impressed with the results the women had obtained. Nonetheless, she questioned Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey closely about "The bath incident". "It's not that we're looking to be soft on the girls when they become wayward. My only concern is that had one of the girls slipped and fallen while trying to stand in the tub in her wet high heels, she might have been injured badly. It's fine if you want to ruin their outfits to teach them a lesson, but we mustn't endanger the girls physical well-being.
Both women diplomatically acknowledged the wisdom of the Dean of Women's advice and assured her they'd be more careful in the future. The Dean of Women replied that she considered "The bath incident" to be closed and now it was time to address the issue of punishment. "The usual modes of punishment haven't been very effective", began Mrs. Prust, "as evidenced by the large preponderance of repeat offenders. I've been thinking that we might require them all to perform community service. Only this time, they would help some local charity raise money. I don't want their fathers to just write out a check and be done with it as that wouldn't bring the point home to the girls. We're considering having the girls work at a carnival-style fund-raising event. Specifically... the girls would take turns in the dunking booth, only instead of swimsuits they would be fully-dressed in their prettiest outfits. The customers could bid for a try at dunking them. The girls would get a publicly humiliating punishment that they'd never forget and we'd be helping out a good cause. It would all be done very safely, the water in the tank would be hot so nobody catches a chill.
"I See", said Mrs. Wilson with a raised eyebrow.
Mrs. Dewey chimed in, "I know of a local school that's holding a carnival fund-raiser on Saturday. I've approached the Headmaster with the possibility of having our girls 'volunteer' to sit on the dunking stool and he was quite receptive."
"HHmmm", replied Mrs. Wilson as she mulled over their proposal. "I'd have to run this by the President. I think it would be a good idea if you both came with me to answer any questions he may have. I suggest we make the girls an offer they can't refuse. Volunteer for dunk tank duty in your prettiest outfits or face suspension. The last thing these parents want is for us to send back their misbehaving children to them. We'll meet with the President this afternoon. The President enthusiastically endorsed their proposal. The women were ecstatic.
The coeds were called into the Dean's office that very evening. All of the coeds were persuaded to take their turn on the dunking stool. Mrs. Dewey called up the Headmaster of the school having the fundraiser to make arrangements for heated-water in the dunk tank, a place for the girls to change etc.
On Saturday, the girls dressed in their finest business-attire and assembled in front of Curie Hall with their bags packed. Appropriate female business-attire in the 1950s consisted of a matching jacket with a straight skirt that ended below-the-knee and a matching blouse. Conservative-looking high-heel shoes that matched the colour of the skirt and jacket and flesh-tone stockings completed the outfit. Businesswomen were also expected to have a conservative hairstyle and to use a minimal amount of make-up. A matching hat was considered a plus.
Those scheduled for light duty would be dunked in their business-attire.
The girls who "volunteered" for moderate duty would would additionally be required to dry and set their hair, re-apply their makeup and change into their prettiest Saturday Night "date" outfits and undergo another session at the dunk tank.
Lastly, those facing "heavy duty" would suffer all the consequences outlined for the girls facing "medium duty", and were required to dry and set their hair yet again, re-apply their make-up yet again, and change into their "prom" outfits that they had planned on wearing to the spring formal before enduring a final round of dunk tank duty.
The girls were expected to change their entire outfits between dunkings, including all lingerie and foundation garments. Each dunking session would consist of three drops into the dunk tank. At the end of the day the girls would have nothing to show for their efforts but sacks full of sopping-wet ruined clothes. To prevent the girls from catching cold at the end of the day, they were allowed to bring a complete set of lingerie with a simple skirt-and-blouse and low-heeled shoes for the ride back to campus.
Luckily for the girls, Saturday proved to be a splendid day. The weather was sunny with temperatures in the high-eighties and no wind. The thirty-minute ride by bus passed quickly as Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust gave the "volunteers" their final instructions. "Be on your best behaviour. Be courteous, smile when you are on the dunking stool and remember you're helping out a good cause. After today, I'm confident we can all learn our lessons from the experience and become the best of friends. Just remember though, that we'll be watching you closely today -- and after curfew when we get back!".
The girls looked at one another with dread when at last the bus pulled up behind the gymnasium.
"All Out!" said Mrs. Prust. Let's get the baggage inside."
The well-dressed girls resembled travelling businesswomen as they carried their things inside. Once the girls had reached the locker room Mrs. Prust announced, "Now ladies, please get settled and take a few moments to freshen up you hair and make-up while I get everything squared away with the headmaster. Remember that you're representing our school today and need to look your best!"
Mrs. Prust was cordially greeted by the Headmaster and he at once thanked her profusely for having recruited so many volunteers to take their place on the dunking stool. Mrs. Prust assured the Headmaster that being dunked in their prettiest outfits made the notion of sacrifice for a good cause all the more significant, as opposed to the hollow gesture of merely writing out a check. Mrs. Prust did however want to make sure that all of the arrangements were satisfactory before she would let any of the girls take their place on the dunking chair. The Headmaster assured her that the dunk tank water was hot, but not too hot. He even took Mrs. Prust over to the dunk tank and allowed her to dip her hand in the water for herself.
"Very Good. Well Done.", she commented approvingly before asking, "Since all the girls are about to be dunked in the same tank of water, I was wondering whether you've chlorinated the water?"
"A good point. Mrs. Prust", replied the Headmaster thoughtfully, "I'll have our man double-shock the water in the tank right now."
"Thank you very much. I'm sure the girls will appreciate your concern for their health."
"You're very welcome Mrs. Prust" replied the Headmaster congenially. "I'll have our women's P.E. instructor come round in ten minutes to escort the girls to-and-from the tank."
"That would be fine. As I don't want the girls leaving a watery trail through your gym, I was thinking that since the day is so warm, it might be best to have them return to the locker room by walking around the outside of the building rather than through the halls. On a hot day like this there should be no risk of them catching a chill."
"How thoughtful of you Mrs. Prust.", replied the Headmaster.
Mrs. Prust re-entered the locker room and approvingly looked over the preparations the girls were making. They had unpacked their bags, and their lovely outfits were hung neatly on racks. The makeup cases were open and under the watchful eye of Mrs. Dewey, the coeds were busily touching up their make-up and brushing their hair. Mrs. Prust took Mrs. Dewey aside and quietly informed her of the arrangements that had been made with the Headmaster. Mrs. Dewey chuckled approvingly at the steps Mrs. Prust had taken to enhance the punishment, chlorinating the water would certainly run the colour out of their outfits and making them walk around the outside of the building in their sopping-wet suits, dresses and formal wear would certainly be an added treat for the onlookers at the girls' expense.
Just as the Headmaster promised, a matronly-looking Mrs. Robinson entered the locker room. Mrs. Robinson introduced herself to Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey and told them she was ready to escort the first of the girls to the dunk tank. Mrs. Dewey looked down at her clipboard and walked over to where the first of her "volunteers" sat at the makeup table.
"Angela, please come with us", said Mrs. Dewey in a calm-but-commanding voice as she put her hand on Angela's shoulder. The room went silent as all of the other girls turned their attention to Angela and the three ladies who stood over her. Angela sighed as she took one last look at herself in the mirror. Her straight shoulder-length blonde-hair was perfectly brushed and styled, with just the right amount of bouncy-curl at the ends. Her tastefully-applied makeup accentuated her lovely facial features but was not overbearing. Angela picked up her wide-brimmed hat and eased it over her head (at the time, ladies hats were still regarded as required fashion accessories although more-and-more women were beginning to go hatless). Angela summoned her courage as she eased back her chair and stood up in a ladylike manner.
Angela turned to face the ladies and quietly said, "I'm ready, Mrs. Dewey."
Mrs. Robinson led the way out of the room, followed by Angela, with Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust bringing up the rear. Noticing the silence that had befallen the girls, Mrs. Prust said aloud, "Get back to your preparations young ladies, we'll be back shortly!"
Angela tried not to make eye-contact with any of the other coeds on her way out of the locker room. As soon as they were outside, Angela caught her first glimpse of the dunk tank and froze in her footsteps.
Mrs. Prust put a hand on Angela's shoulder and in a soft, reassuring tone of voice said, "Don't worry dearie. We're right here. Just relax and before you know it this will all be over with. Angela regained her composure and walked onward as she concentrated on the click-clacking of her high-heels on the paved walkway. As Angela regained her nerve, she looked about and began to notice more about her surroundings. Angela was reassured by the fact that the audience was composed of a mixture of men and women. They were all clapping and cheering wildly as Angela made her way towards the dunk tank.
Upon reaching the dunk tank, Mrs. Robinson turned to face Angela and said, "Please stand in the pan of water for a moment to clean off the soles of your heels before climbing the ladder. Angela opened her mouth to say something but no words came out. Mrs. Robinson grasped Angela by the arm eased her forward. Angela put first one foot and then the other in the pan of water. The water was only half-an-inch deep and didn't penetrate her expensive high-heels. Mrs. Robinson then placed Angela's right hand on the ladder and motioned for her to climb as she said, "take you time Dear, be careful of your heels." Angela put her foot on the first rung of the ladder and watched as a few drops of water dripped from her heel. When her foot was squarely planted on the rubberised rung of the ladder, she raised her left foot onto the first rung. Angela exhaled and paused for a second before ascending to the second rung, then the third and finally the fourth.
Angela paused to take in her surroundings from her new vantage point. She looked down into the clear water of the dunk tank and at the dunking stool suspended about two feet above the water. She looked out over the audience at the crowd of smiling faces.
Angela was shaken out of her reverie by a young woman who touched her arm and identified herself as the dunk tank attendant. "Let me help you onto the seat Dear. Step over onto this platform and ease yourself onto the dunking chair."
Angela followed the attendant's instructions as she carefully set foot on the platform and eased herself onto the dunking chair.
"Smile to the audience and try to relax", were the last words of encouragement spoken by the attendant. Angela smiled and tried to relax as she kept her legs together, smoothed out her skirt and folded her manicured hands neatly in her lap. Angela sat in the dunking chair as though she were sitting comfortably in an office-chair at an interview. It was just then that Angela noticed the chain-link screening that surrounded her and the pungent smell of the chlorinated water carried up to her by the steam rising up from the hot water. Between the steam rising up from the heated water and the hot sun beating down on her, Angela was beginning to feel quite warm and was becoming anxious anxious to get it over with.
Angela expected someone to begin tossing rubber-balls at the target a few-feet to the right to where she sat. But instead, the voice of a carnival barker crackled through a loudspeaker and announced. "Ladies and Gentlemen, as you can see Angela is about to take the plunge for a good cause. Let's start the bidding at one dollar..." The bidding went on for some time, but Angela became too lost in her own thoughts to follow just what was happening. The next thing Angela recalled hearing was the words, "The gentlemen in the blue shirt has the honour of the first three throws!" Angela watched as a young and somewhat handsome college-aged man made his way to the front of the crowd, handed over his money and was given three bright-green tennis balls.
The crowd grew hushed as the young man took up his position behind the cones and concentrated on the target. "Baam!", Angela gasped and her eyes grew wide as the first tennis ball missed the target. The crowd murmured. The barker called out, "C'mon now! Some athlete you are." A few members of the crowd chuckled. The young man focused his attention and threw harder "Baam!", missing the target again.
"C'mon now. This pretty flower is going to wilt in the sun by the time you hit it! You should have saved your money!", called out the barker. The young man stepped back for a second to collect himself, he had paid out good money to dunk the pretty girl in dry clothes, and he wasn't about to lose his chance. He exhaled and focused on the target as he wound up one last time. "Ding!", sounded the bell has the young man's throw hit the target with enough force to trip the mechanism.
Angela let out a loud squeal as the dunking chair retracted, dropping the pretty girl in her business-outfit into the dunk tank, heels, hat and all! Angela was under the water for a second or so until she planted her feet on the bottom of the tank and broke the surface, sputtering and pushing her wet-down hair away from her face. At once, her hands went down under the water and she smoothed-down her skirt and slip which had ridden up considerably. Angela stood there stunned, looking out at the wildly cheering audience. The dunk tank attendant reached over to Angela and said, "I've put in the ladder, let me help you up onto the chair." Angela turned around as quickly as she could, encumbered as she was by her heavy wet outfit and heels and began to climb out of the water.
As Angela climbed out of the water, she could feel the sheer weight of her soaked outfit. Water poured from under her blazer and the hem of her soggy skirt. When she put her foot down on the platform on the side of the dunk tank, water squished out of her water-logged high-heel. "I must look like a drowned-rat", Angela thought to herself.
As soon as the attendant settled Angela into the dunking chair, she handed Angela her wet-and-droopy hat and motioned for her to put it on.
"Of all the indignities! At least it'll cover up my wet-down hair", Angela thought to herself as she placed the water-logged formal hat on her head. Angela was grateful now that it was such a hot day. At least she wouldn't catch a chill in her wet things. Angela looked down and watched as water poured off her clothes, ran down her legs and dribbled off her shiny wet high-heels and into the dunk tank. Beneath her outfit, Angela felt the heaviness of her water-logged girdle as it pressed against her abdomen. Angela's feminine desire to look her best took over and as she sat on the dunking stool, she unconsciously began to smooth-out her wet-wrinkled skirt and jacket.
While Angela preened herself, the barker auctioned off the next three tosses. Two players in a row were unable to hit the target and the torrent of water running from Angela's outfit had begun to subside. The audience cheered wildly as the third customer undid Angel's futile efforts to preen herself by dunking her two times out of three. The attendant helped Angela climb up to the platform and out of the dunk tank.
Mrs. Robinson handed Angela a towel and said, "There there, dear. Let's get you back to the locker room and out of those wet things."
Angela was done for the day. As the nature of her offensive was relatively minor, and because she had 'a clean record', Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust had decided that Angela only needed to ruin her business outfit.
"This way Dear", intoned Mrs. Robinson as she led Angela past the building entrance and around the side of the building, "we can't have you dripping water all through the hallways now can we?", said Mrs. Robinson matter-of-factly. Angela looked forlornly at the building entrance. In her soggy state, hair wet and matted down, makeup smudged and running, water-logged outfit and heels, Angela wanted to dart into the building and escape from the gaze of the crowd.
Resigned to her fate, the soaked coed tried not to make eye contact with anyone as she walked onward. Angela's sopping-wet skirt and slip slapped against her thighs and made slap-slapping sounds as she walked. Streams of water cascaded from the hem of her soaked outfit and made hissing noises as they cascaded onto the hot pavement. Rivers of water poured from her water-logged girdle and ran down her stocking-clad legs, sometimes tickling them and almost making her laugh. Angela's shoes made soggy squishing-sounds and water oozed out of them every time she put her foot down to take a step. As soon as Angela lifted her foot off the ground, the water running down her legs would re-fill the water-logged high-heel all-over-again.
The treated water from the dunk tank made Angela's outfit reek of chlorine. As if things couldn't get any worse, Angela overheard some of the catty comments from the women in the crowd as she passed-by "quite a fashion statement! Is that the new wetlook I've been hearing about?"; "There goes a Wet Hen!". On the plus side however, Angela noticed that the men seemed to enjoy watching her move about in her ruined business attire. After all, Angela's outfit was now clinging to her and accentuated her stunning figure.
Eventually, the women arrived at the back entrance to the building and entered the locker room. Everyone in the locker room paused to glance at the now sopping-wet Angela. None of the girls wanted to look too closely as they were getting a glimpse of their own fate.
Mrs. Prust turned to Angela and said, "Now dearie, you should get out of those wet things as quickly as you can. Be sure to wash your hair and shower off the chlorine before you change into your plain clothes. You've completed your punishment and now I expect you to behave yourself for the remainder of the afternoon. You can visit the carnival if you like, just be sure to be back here by 5:30.
"Thank you Mrs. Prust!", said an obviously relieved Angela.
All of the other girls were in turn escorted to the dunk tank where they were each dunked three times in their business attire before being escorted back to the locker room. For some of the girls, their punishment was over and they were free to shower and change into their less formal outfits. The majority of the girls however faced additional sessions in the dunk tank. Each of these girls was obliged to shower, dry and style their hair, change into their Saturday night date outfits (including a complete change of lingerie (no re-wearing wet lingerie allowed) and re-apply their makeup.
Ann-Marie was one of the girls whose punishment was to be two sessions in the dunk tank. After completing her first session in the dunk tank, Ann-Marie was instructed to get out of her wet things at once and begin preparations for her second session in the dunking chair. Ann-Marie had never gotten wet while fully-clothed in her life before this day, and believe-it-or-not she was pleasantly surprised at how it felt to wear wet things. She wasn't sure why but after the dunkings in her business outfit, she was actually looking forward to seeing how her silk dress and three-tiered petticoat might feel when wet. Naturally, she had to conceal these feelings from Mrs. Prust as the women believed they were punishing her for excessive curfew violations. Ann-Marie slogged and slopped her way into the locker room and headed for the showers at once.
Ann-Marie had become so lost in her own thoughts that she picked up her soap and shampoo caddy and marched into the showers without removing a stitch of her clothing. Ann-Marie turned on the water, adjusted the temperature to her liking and was just about to step under spray when she realized what she was about to do. Ann-Marie was about to turn off the water when a wicked thought crossed her mind. "Why not go under 'as is', my outfit is probably ruined anyhow and if not then maybe rinsing out the chlorine might save it."
Ann-Marie playfully dangled her right foot under the spray and watched the water cascade off her high-heel. The warm water felt good and Ann-Marie at once positioned herself under spray and relaxed as the the hot water poured over her head and its warmth permeated through her blazer, skirt blouse slip and foundation garments, and eventually embraced her. "AAhhhh!", purred Ann-Marie as the pleasures of these sensations took hold of her. Ann-Marie snapped back to reality though when she remembered that she couldn't afford to luxuriate in the shower too long, she had to wash her hair and style it again.
"Might as well get on with it", she thought as she poured out a cap-full of shampoo and began sudsing up her hair, without pausing to remove so much as a stitch of clothes. Ann-Marie gave her hair a good washing and rinsed her hair, and her clothes out thoroughly under the shower before at last begrudgingly turning off the shower. Ann-Marie lingered in the shower room for a another minute while she tried to wring out her soggy skirt and jacket before squishing and swishing her way back into the locker room.
Ann-Marie took off her wet outfit and hung everything up to drip-dry, then came her wet camisole, slip, bra, girdle, garters and stockings. She turned her high-heels upside down so they might drain out a bit. Ann-Marie towelled herself off and began brushing and styling her hair as best she could while drying it with the table-top hair dryer. Next, she applied deodorant and body-powder and slipped on dry foundation garments. With her bra, garter belt and panty-girdle in-place Ann-Marie rolled on her stockings and hooked them to her garter belt before donning her fancy petticoat with bodice. Next came the long-sleeved party dress that came to just-below the knees. Lastly, Ann-Marie stepped into the matching heels and set to work on her makeup. Lipstick, mascara, rouge and a quick spritz of perfume.
Ann-Marie was so intent on getting her makeup done that she didn't become aware of the presence of Mrs. Dewey who had taken up station behind her some ten minutes ago and was monitoring her preparations. As Anne-Marie turned to face Mrs. Dewey, Mrs. Dewey said, "Very nicely done Anne-Marie. My complements on your makeup and hairstyle, and that is such a lovely outfit. It really is such a shame to ruin such a pretty outfit, but I do hope you learn your lesson from this. We really have your own good at heart dearie."
"I promise I'll behave in the future Mrs. Dewey", replied Ann-Marie.
For the second time that day Ann-Marie found herself dipping her heels in the trough of water to rinse off any accumulated dirt, then climbing the ladder and taking her seat in the dunking chair. This time around, Ann-Marie was much more relaxed and she even waved to the crowd as she smiled broadly. For the first time, Ann-Marie noticed just how many young men had gathered and how excited they appeared to be at the prospect of her being dunked in her lovely dress.
Ann-Marie tried to imagine just how she looked to the crowd. A striking brunette wearing a robin-egg blue long-sleeved dress with a full skirt and petticoat and matching heels. Her outfit was of course topped off with a wide-brimmed festive hat. Ann-Marie folded her manicured hands in her lap and smiled as the looked over the crowd once again. This time around, she heard every word of the barker's dreel as he sought to work up the crowd's enthusiasm in order to get the highest bit possible for the privilege of dunking the lovely coed. The barker didn't have to work hard to attract the interest of the bidders. Much to Ann-Marie's surprise, a young-woman near the front of the crowd who stood arm-in-arm with her boyfriend was bidding actively. No doubt, she was jealous of the attention her boyfriend was paying to the nicely dressed coed on the dunking stool and wanted to get some payback.
Sure enough, the girl in the front won the bidding, disengaged herself from her boyfriend and strutted over to the throwing line as she eyed Ann-Marie with veiled fury. "It's bath time dearie!", she called out as she collected the tennis balls and positioned herself to make the first toss. "Baam", the ball weekly impacted on the canvas and missed the target completely. Ann-Marie smiled broadly at her antagonist just to show that she wasn't phased at all. This infuriated the young woman who threw the next ball hard but missed the target widely. "Only one left", taunted Ann-Marie. The young woman at the line took a step backward and let her arms fall to her sides as she sought to regain her composure before unleashing the final ball. The woman stepped up to the line and focused on the target as though trying to move it by sheer will. The crowd grew silent and she threw the ball. "Baam", close but no cigar. Ann-Marie clapped her hands together and laughed aloud. As if to rub it in, the barker called out, "Sorry lady--better luck next time!".
The bidding started again. The same woman again outbid everyone. "You look awfully warm up there in the sun dearie. Allow me to cool you off!", she called-out aloud. "With your aim I'm liable to be up all day!", shouted back Ann-Marie confidently. Without replying, the woman took her place at the line and unleashed a hard throw--missing the target by only inches.
"Nice Try!", exclaimed Ann-Marie as she was getting caught-up in the spirit of it all. By now the crowd was really getting into it as they roared with laughter. The woman at the line paid no heed to the crowd as she focused her concentration again and wound up to throw. "Ding!", sounded the bell.
Anne-Marie gasped as the chair collapsed beneath her and she found herself underwater and surrounded by her billowing skirt and petticoats. Ann-Marie shot to the surface and did her best to submerge her floating garments. She brushed the hair away from her face and wiped her eyes as she looked out at the crowd. "It was getting hot up there, so at least I'm cooled off a bit", Anne-Marie thought to herself.
"And it was such a lovely dress!", called out the woman at the line. Ann-Marie glared at her before once-again taking her seat on the dunking stool. At once Ann-Marie noticed how differently this outfit felt when wet. The silkiness of her wet petticoat and dress and the reduced weight of her formal high-heels as compared with those she wore with her business outfit.
The woman at the line missed on her third throw and was content not to bid in the next round. Nonetheless, the young men in the crowd were happy to bid on dunking her and within a few minutes Ann-Marie had been dunked twice more.
Anne-Marie walked proudly back to the locker room. The appreciative men were almost fixated on her. "It's amazing how men enjoy seeing women at their prettiest being dunked. No wonder women occasionally dive in the pool fully-clothed at fancy parties to get attention.", thought Ann-Marie. Ann-Marie at last reached the locker room and was told by Mrs. Dewey that her punishment was complete. She was free to change into her skirt and blouse.
"Thank you", said Ann-Marie to Mrs. Dewey. Mrs. Dewey replied, "Stay out of trouble and you won't find yourself in hot water again. On your way young lady."
Ann-Marie picked up her soap and shampoo caddy and this time deliberately headed into the shower without removing her clothes. Only this time she ran into Shelly Stevens who was just finishing washing her hair.
Shelly called out, "Ann-Marie, aren't you forgetting something!"
"Not at all Shelly. Just rinsing the chlorine out of my dress!"
Shelly paused for a second and called back, "good thinking! See you later" as she turned off the water and left the shower room.
Ann-Marie once again shampooed her hair without removing her clothes, only this time around she could afford to luxuriate under the shower for a good long while. She returned to the locker room, took off her sopping-wet things and hung them up to dry before drying herself off, brushing her hair and changing into her plain skirt-and-blouse outfit.
Susan had been a chronic offender who'd been sentenced to three dunking sessions. In the last session Susan was required to wear the outfit she'd purchased for the Spring Formal. Susan had only just been fitted for it and wouldn't even get the chance to wear it once! Susan was about to graduate however, and resigned herself to having to sacrifice her lovely Southern-Belle style Prom outfit. The whole day had been a blur for poor Susan. She looked forlornly at the soggy wrinkled business outfit and ruined party dress that hung limply on the hangers and dripped a steady stream of water into a growing puddle on the floor of the locker room as she donned her third set of foundation garments for the day. Then came a double-layered petticoat, the stylish heels and the Southern-Belle dress with its own layers of toule and lace. She looked herself over in the mirror and thought, "This is so unfair. How could they do this to me!"
Just then, Susan's good friend Margaret came by and asked, "Sue, how much money do you have on you. We've got a plan and everyone's pooling their money together. If it works out, I think we can get back at Mrs. Dewey and Mrs. Prust. Hurry-up before they come back."
Susan was ready to do anything to get even with these meddling middle-aged biddies. "Here, I've got fifteen dollars." (in the 1950s fifteen dollars was a good amount of money to be carrying around).
"Thanks!" replied Margaret in a hushed whisper as she patted Susan on the shoulder.
Susan was too lost in her own thoughts to pay too much attention to Margaret. The day had been such a blur with all the running around, dunkings, showers and getting her hair to look perfect only to be dunked again. As always, Mrs. Dewey was right there to make sure Susan was doing a perfect job on her makeup, "No slacking off Susan!", she had been warned. Susan relaxed as she waited for Mrs. Dewey to come for her. Her beautiful outfit was about be ruined!
Mrs. Dewey tapped her on the shoulder and said, "Come Susan. We mustn't keep the people waiting.". Susan gracefully eased herself out of the chair and smoothed out her dress before beginning the long walk to the dunk tank. Susan did her best to look as cool and collected as possible. After all, she wasn't about to give Mrs. Dewey the pleasure of "seeing her sweat".
Once Susan reached the outside of the building, she hammed it up and promenaded toward the dunk tank just as though she were parading down Fifth Avenue.
"I might as well show-off my Prom outfit now since I'll never be able to wear it again", thought Susan. The crowd cheered in appreciation. Here was a lovely campus cutie about to be dunked in her expensive prom outfit! Susan gracefully grasped the floor-length skirt of her prom-dress and lifted it, along with her petticoat up several inches as she stepped into the foot bath to remove any dirt from her high-heels. Mrs. Robinson pondered the irony of it all as she watched the lovely coed making such an extraordinary effort to keep her pretty outfit dry, knowing that she was about to be dunked. When Susan lifted her dress, her brand-new shiny-white heels with flowers on the toe and a white strap across the instep came into view. Susan had only walked a few hundred feet in her expensive new heels and now she's just ruined them, much to the amusement of the cackling girls at the front of the crowd. It took a little extra help from the attendant for Susan to make her way up the ladder and onto the dunking chair in her layers of prom finery. At last, Susan was settled on the dunking stool.
The bidding to dunk Susan yielded the highest offer they'd seen all day. After all, Susan was a very attractive coed wearing the fanciest outfit anyone had seen yet all afternoon. Every one of excited young men and jealous women in the crowd were anxious to be the one to 'baptize' Susan in her lovely prom regalia.
The first dunking was simply awesome! Susan went down and her wide skirts and petticoats billowed up all around her. It took her a few minutes to sink her floating skirts. All the while Susan thought to herself, "Under any other circumstances, I'd be rushing to get out of the water as quickly as possible, but here I am deliberately trying to get every inch of my outfit sopping-wet!"
Susan then turned around and with help from two attendants, managed to make her way onto the dunking chair in spite of her water-logged prom outfit. As Susan did her best to settle herself on the dunking stool, everyone got a good look at the transformation the dunking had wrought. Before she'd been dropped into the dunk tank, Susan resembled a picture on the cover of a women's' magazine. After her first drop into the dunk tank, the lovely Prom girl's dress had changed colour. Susan's full skirt with petticoat now hung limply over her legs. Her styled hair was matted down on her head and her impeccably-done makeup was smudged. Mercifully, Susan was dunked for a third time within the span of a few more minutes and her punishment was over. The attendants helped the soggy prom-girl out of the dunk tank and down the ladder. Susan tried as best she could to hold up her sagging skirts. Her layers of water-logged regalia sloshed and slopped against her legs as she walked. Try as she could to hold them up, Susan's soaked floor-length skirts dragged on the pavement behind her. The sheer volume of water pouring off her sopping-wet prom regalia left a wide "wake" behind the retreating prom-girl. The men in the crowd were transfixed and stared in sheer delight at the sight of the pretty coed as she walked onward in her soaked, ruined prom outfit.
All too soon, Susan returned to the locker room. There were still a number of girls in various stages of donning their prom outfits and they all did a double-take as a soggy Susan made her way through the crowd. Susan had by now heard that some of the girls had showered in their wet things and decided then-and-there that she would do the same. She marched into the shower area carrying her shampoo and soap and set them down on the shelf.
As Susan looked around the shower room, she noticed a door at the back of the shower-room with a sign on it that read "Pool Entrance, Shower Before Entering". Susan's curiosity got the better of her and she pushed open the door. A few short feet away was an Olympic-sized swimming pool. "My dress is ruined anyhow and I always wondered what it would be like to go swimming all-dressed-up, this might be my only chance." thought Susan as she stepped through the door. Susan stepped up to the ledge of the pool and looked down at her reflection in the water.
As a member of the swim team Susan felt confident she could handle the water, but she also knew that it might be dangerous to swim alone as nobody would be available to assist her if she ran into any trouble. As Susan turned around to go back into the shower room, the door swung open and there stood Amy Green, still dressed in her soaking-wet Saturday night date ensemble.
"Susan!", exclaimed Amy, "You going in all dressed up? I stopped off at the bathroom on my way into the shower and saw you disappear through the door. I tell you what. If you'll go in, I'll go in too!"
"Great!", replied Susan enthusiastically. With that, Susan backed off a few paces, gathered up the front side of her drenched skirts and with a running start jumped into the pool feet-first without even bothering to remove her soggy high-heels. Susan broke the surface and paddled over to the edge of the pool. With one hand on the ledge she waved to Amy and called out "C'mon in the water's fine!".
Not needing any more encouragement, Amy dove in head-first and came up sputtering water and laughing only a few feet away from Susan. "We did it!", squealed Amy with delight. This is so cool. I think all the girls should try it."
"We just have to make sure we don't get caught having too much fun or the house-mothers with come up with something new to punish us with", replied Susan.
"I'll pass the word along to the girls. Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey are too busy escorting people back-and-forth to the dunk tank and buttering up the Headmaster to be checking on us. I'm going in to shower the chlorine out of my outfit. Not that I think it'll make any difference at this point--and then I'll get cleaned up and dressed. My punishment is over now. Don't hang around the pool too long Amy. There's a plan afoot to get even with the ladies before the bus leaves and I don't think you'll want to miss it!"
With that, Amy climbed out of the pool and walked back into the shower room. Susan followed suit. The women looked like wet hens. Their hair was matted-down and their makeup was completely smudged and runny. Their wrinkled, water-logged dresses hung limply at their sides and were completely ruined and their flooded high-heels made squishing sounds every time they took a step. But girls had looks of contentment on their faces as they were enjoying the sensations of wearing wet things.
Several other girls availed themselves of the opportunity to take a fully-clothed a dip in the pool in their lovely outfits. The site of all those pretty coeds paddling around in the pool with their colorful full-skirts floating around them in wide circles was simply breathtaking!
Corrine was another girl who faced a session on the dunking chair in her prom outfit. The afternoon had been dreadful for her but brightened up a bit when one of the other girls suggested that she shower in her Saturday night date outfit. Corrine had to admit that the session in the shower under the warm water was relaxing and the sheer naughtiness of doing something that girls simply weren't supposed to do, like showering in your prettiest dress, had an element of thrill to it that enhanced the sensuality of feeling her warm-wet silken things against her skin. Corrine was still feeling a badly though as her boyfriend John had been unable to travel to the carnival as he was scheduled to participate in a track-meet that day.
Corrine stoically walked to the dunk tank under the watchful eyes of Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey. She mechanically stepped into the footbath to cleanse the soles of her pretty high-heels and made the now-familiar climb up the ladder before settling her frilly prom-dress around her. Corrine's short-sleeved yellow dress had puffy shoulders, a sweetheart neckline, and a form-fitting bodice with a full-skirt that ended just-below-the knee and was supported by two petticoats! Naturally, Corrine's high-heels matched the light yellow prom dress and for a touch of elegance, she wore white gloves that ended above the elbow.
Corrine absent-mindedly scanned the crowd as the barker began auctioning off the first three throws. Suddenly, Corrine's heart skipped a beat and she smiled as she clasped her gloved hands together in ecstasy! Corrine recognized the voice of her boyfriend John calling out a bid. Almost immediately, someone else raised the ante and outbid John. Corrine's heart sank, but then John called out a higher bid. Corrine had to be careful, if anyone caught on that John was her boyfriend they would bid the price way up knowing that John would have no choice but to raise the ante. Much to Corrine's relief, John won the bidding and was handed three tennis-balls. John smiled to Corrine as he waived to her and threw the first ball. "Ding", and down she went!
"AAhhhhh!", squealed Corrine as she broke the surface and brushed back her hair. Corrine feigned anger by placing her hands on her hips and glaring at John. Poor John didn't know what to think and just as he began to feel really bad, Corrine gave him a conspiratorial wink and laughed! Back up on the dunking chair. Corrine's yellow-dress was now somewhat transparent. You could see the lacy outline of the bodice of her petticoat. Her long gloves were also nearly transparent.
Luckily for Corrine, John's specialty was the decathlon, and being such a good athlete John hit the target with every throw. Corrine's dunking session was over in record time. As soon as Corrine dropped into the dunk tank for the last time, John ran up to the dunk tank and embraced his lovely girlfriend as he passionately kissed her on the lips. "Oh Corrine, I couldn't bear the thought of someone else dunking you my darling! The other team forfeited the last half of the meet and I got here just as you came out of the building in your prom dress Corrine, I love you so! You're the prettiest woman on earth, wet or dry! I hope you're not mad at me for dunking you my darling"
"Oh John!", exclaimed Corrine breathlessly. I'm not mad at you sweetie. I can tell you enjoyed dunking me, and if you let me climb out of the tank I know you'll like what you see!".
All the while, the crowd was cheering wildly! At once, everyone realized that John and Corrine were 'going steady' (a term from the 1950's signifying a long-term dating relationship). The men in the audience were jealous and began wishing they could find some convenient excuse to dunk their girlfriends. Meanwhile, the women in the audience had something new to think about, maybe they should let their boyfriends manoeuvrer them into getting wet. After all, that girl in the dunk tank doesn't seem to mind and her boyfriend sure seems happy.
With the help of the dunk tank attendant and her attentive boyfriend, Corrine climbed out of the dunk tank and down the ladder. Before she reached the last rung, John lifted her off the ladder and kissed her passionately as he twirled his soaked prom-girl around. Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey were momentarily stunned by this outpouring of ecstatic young love but soon recovered their composure.
"Sir!" exclaimed Mrs. Prust, "Put that young woman down!".
"Of course Mrs. Prust", replied a contrite John as he gently set his girlfriend down on her feet and continued to gaze into her sparkling eyes.
"You may escort her back to the locker room with us", said Mrs. Dewey dryly. "Thank you Mrs. Dewey!", exclaimed John gratefully. Corrine hooked her arm beneath John's and the happy couple strolled off toward the locker room, with Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey following closely on their heels. Corrine gazed into her lover's eyes dreamily and didn't give a thought to the water pouring off her soaked prom-dress.
The young lovers exchanged a hug and a kiss at the door to the locker room and then Corrine disappeared into the building as she said, "I'll see you back at campus!" before blew her boyfriend a final kiss.
The afternoon was beginning to wind down as Mrs. Prust triumphantly escorted the remaining coeds to the dunk tank and back to the locker room. Mrs. Dewey addressed the young women as the last girl headed off to the showers. "You ladies have conducted yourselves satisfactorily this afternoon. The bus will be here in less than an hour and those of you who've just returned from the dunk tank will need to shower off and get changed as quickly as possible. Thank you ladies."
Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey began helping the girls pack up their things, mostly sacks full of soaking-wet outfits that would never be worn again. The last of the girls who'd been dunked in their prom outfits made quick work of showering and shampooing their hair. In short order, they were drying and brushing their hair and getting changed into their simple outfits consisting of a skirt, blouse and a pair of flats for the the trip back to campus.
With less than ten minutes to go before the arrival of the bus, and exactly on cue, Mrs. Robinson entered the locker room and escorted Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey outside. Margaret clasped her hands together and said,
"Hurry up girls! I think the tables are about to be turned!"
Margaret left the locker room and followed the ladies at a discreet distance. Although she couldn't hear any of the conversation she could tell that the ladies were engaged in an animated discussion. Margaret's hopes were raised further when the Headmaster intercepted the ladies and began speaking to them excitedly.
Margaret could just make out the words, "Your lovely coeds volunteered themselves and our anonymous benefactor just offered us a tidy sum on condition that both of you take a turn on the dunking stool. You can't possibly back out after all the sacrifices made by the girls!"
The women were trapped. Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey had let on all along that the girls had volunteered to work the dunk tank and now they were being cornered into taking the plunge themselves!
Margaret heard Mrs. Prust protest, "But I just had a perm, I haven't got a change-of-clothes and our bus will arrive very soon."
The Headmaster countered, "We're all counting on you ladies. Think of it as setting a good example and being a good sport. It really would be unfair for the two of you to get away completely dry, at least I wouldn't want to report that to your college President. Face it ladies, I've got you over a barrel."
Ah the clincher! If the college President found out the ladies had mislead the Headmaster who knows just how much trouble they might find themselves in. Mrs. Dewey sighed as she looked at Mrs. Prust and the women accepted defeat.
"All right", said Mrs. Prust as she began to taking off her wristwatch.
Margaret hurried back to the locker room and told the girls to get outside quickly. The coeds made their way up to the dunk tank. By now, the crowds at the carnival were thinning-out but those remaining quickly joined the coeds over at the dunk tank when the barker announced that two more lovely volunteers would take their place in the dunking chair.
The first lady on the dunking chair was Mrs. Prust. Her business outfit, styled brunette hair and immaculate make-up looked just too lovely to ruin.
Mrs. Prust couldn't believe the reversal of fortune that had just taken place. The day had gone off without a hitch and all of the guilty parties had gotten their just desserts. Now she found herself sitting on a dunking chair about to get a dose of her own medicine, or rather medicine that Mrs. Dewey had suggested in the first place! She had nothing to change into and there would be no time to change even if Mrs. Robinson could furnish something, there would be no time to change.
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted with the clang of the bell and Mrs. Prust found herself briefly underwater before she came up sputtering. "Owwww! My suit!", she screeched as she stood there defiantly in the dunk tank, hands on her hips.
"Two more dunkings to go", said the dunk tank attendant matter-of-factly to Mrs. Prust as she helped the soggy house-mother back onto the dunking chair. Another five minutes and two dunkings later and it was over.Mrs. Prust was helped out of the dunk tank.
Mrs. Dewey's fate was perhaps a bit worse as she got a preview of her fate by watching Mrs. Prust getting dunked in her business-suit hat and heels. Mrs. Dewey sighed as she resigned herself to her fate and climbed the ladder. In less than five minutes the deed was done and the sopping-wet Mrs. Dewey climbed down to join her soggy cohort Mrs. Prust.
Mrs. Robinson handed Mrs. Dewey a face-towel and said, "The bus is pulling in just now! I'd give you some old gym-outfits to wear on the bus, but there's just no time for you to change. You ladies might have just enough time to stand under the shower for a minute-or-two to rinse off some of the chlorine before you get on the bus. I'll let you have a couple of towels to put on the seats for the bus-ride home. You ladies have been wonderful good-sports!"
What else could they do? Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey were just about to enter the building when Mrs. Robinson called out "Excuse me ladies! I'm sorry but you'll have to go around. I can't have you tracking water through the building." The defeated women in soggy business-attire made their way around the side of the building. The girls on the other hand had the luxury of taking the more direct route to the locker room through the building.
The coeds beat the ladies back to the locker room and waited with baited breath for the women to enter through the side-door. Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey entered the locker room and looked straight ahead as they silently marched into the shower room. The girls listened to the sounds of the taps being opened and could hear the hiss of the showers. The coeds were beaming with pride. They'd turned the tables on their tormentors. Just imagine what everyone will say when they all get back to campus and the two house-mothers get off the bus in wet business outfits!
The girls heard the honking of the horn and quickly filed out of the locker room. They quickly loaded their gear on the bus, all the while keeping an eye out for Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey. The bus was loaded and the driver leaned on the horn the horn once more. About thirty seconds later two soggy-looking women in business suits emerged from the locker room. Their hair was matted-down and tangled, streams of water ran from their soggy skirts and their high-heels left footprints in their wake. The women carried towels with them. The driver did a double-take but wisely decided that it was best not to ask any questions.
For Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey, the bus-ride back to campus seemed interminable. Sitting on towels to protect their seats, the women fussed in vein over their sopping-wet outfits and tried as best they could to comb out their hair. After a while, their wet-things began to feel cool and clammy. The coeds didn't dare say a word but exchanged knowing glances and stifled giggles.
The drenched house-mothers stormed off the bus and marched off toward their apartments. Passers-bye did a double-take when they spotted the the two well-known faculty members and house-mothers wearing wet-wrinkled outfits. The coeds meanwhile off-loaded their things and headed toward the women's dorms while keeping a respectable distance behind the ladies.
Mrs. Prust and Mrs. Dewey at last arrived at their respective apartments. The women had planned on going to dinner to celebrate the day on their return to campus but those plans were out. Mrs. Prust's first thought was to have a nice hot bath and to shampoo and style her hair. She turned on the taps and began running a bath for herself.
She checked the water, added some bubblebath and was about to get undressed when the phone rang and she recognized the voice at the other end of the line as Mrs. Dewey."
"Hello", said Mrs. Prust cordially, "I'm just running a bath so I'm afraid I won't be able to stay on the line too long."
"I understand completely", replied Mrs. Dewey, "I'm running a bath as we speak and I can't wait to climb in and have a good long soak. I know this may sound a bit adolescent but just as I started to undress, I had a wicked thought..."
Mrs. Dewey's voice trailed off. After a few seconds of silence, Mrs. Prust spoke up, "... I think I know what you've got in mind. I mean, it sounds silly us being grown women and all but I would imagine it might be interesting to find out just what it feels like to have a bath..."
Mrs. Prust paused for a second and then Mrs. Dewey blurted out "in our wet things! Why not? I'll climb in the tub all-dressed-up if you will - right now!".
"All right, let's bring our phones into the bathroom and climb in.", replied Mrs. Dewey.
Mrs. Prust picked up her phone and walked into the bathroom, mindful not to trip on the wire. She set the phone down on the toilet and spoke into the receiver
"I'm in the bathroom and I'm ready to get in the tub."
"Great. I'm in the bathroom and I'm ready to get in the tub. Are you still wearing your heels?" asked Mrs. Dewey.
"Of course!", replied Mrs. Prust as though stepping into a bath wearing high-heels were an everyday occurrence.
"Give me a minute and I'll step into my high-heels ... I'm all set." said Mrs. Dewey.
"O.K. Let's put down our handsets for a moment while we climb in." said Mrs. Prust.
"That's fine by me... here goes", said Mrs. Dewey.
Mrs. Prust then heard the clunking sound of Mrs. Dewey's handset being put down.
Mrs. Prust sat on the edge of the tub and swung her legs over the side, then she eased her high-heel clad feet into the bubblebath and felt the hot water pour into her damp shoes. Mrs. Prust paused for a few seconds before easing herself down into the rising water. The warmth of the water penetrated her cool wet outfit and embraced her. "OOOOhhhhh" moaned Mrs. Prust as she became lost in the sheer pleasure of the moment. Mrs. Prust lost all track of time before regaining her composure enough to gingerly pick up the handset.
"Ahh Mrs. Dewey... are you there??", said Mrs. Prust in somewhat of a shaky voice.
Mrs. Prust heard a loud clunking sound and then Mrs Dewey was on the line, "Sorry! I dropped the handset. I don't know how I could be so clumsy."
Mrs. Prust smiled knowingly to herself as she guessed the cause of Mrs. Dewey's clumsiness. "I've settled myself in the tub now, and I feel wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Prust as she lifted her leg out of the bubblebath and watched the sudsy-froth drop off of her shiny water-logged high-heel. Mrs. Prust curled her toes and felt the suds squirt around inside her soaked high-heel.
"I'll second that." replied Mrs. Dewey. Mrs. Dewey wanted to end the conversation and bask in the warm-sensuality of her bubble-bath, so she wrapped things up by saying "Well, now that we're both in the tub I suggest we hang up and have our baths. We can talk over the day's events at dinner, shall we meet in an hour then?"
"Sure", responded Mrs. Prust, "One hour is fine. Goodbye".
Mrs. Prust eased herself farther down into the water so that it was up to her neck and thought to herself, "I can't believe how silly I must look, but having a bath all-dressed-up like this certainly feels good." Like all good things, her bath came to an end as the bubbles began to subside. Mrs. Prust shed her sopping wet garments right there in the tub and piled them underwater at the far end of the tub. She lathered up her body with scented soap and lathered-up her hair with shampoo before rinsing herself off under the shower. Mrs. Prust then stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in a bath towel. She paused for a moment to wring out each of her wet garments and hang them over the curtain-rod.
Later that night as the ladies dined together, Mrs. Dewey mentioned that the Headmaster might be calling Mrs. Prust sometime soon.
"What makes you think so?", queried Mrs. Prust.
"When you were up on the dunking chair, the Headmaster couldn't keep his eyes off you! He even asked me if I had any idea whether you were seeing someone."
Mrs. Prust thought for a second before saying "I wonder if there was really an anonymous benefactor? Maybe he just made it up to get me dropped in the dunk tank so he could have a good look at me in wet-things. That's nerve, but then again it's nice to think that he's taken a fancy to me."
"Today might not be quite a 'washout' after all!" said Mrs. Prust with a chuckle.
For the time being at least, the coeds' secret was safe. Of course if the relationship between Mrs. Prust and the Headmaster flourishes, there's always the possibility that the identity of the benefactor may come to the surface - and land the coeds in hot water yet again!
I appreciate all the favorable comments I've received from members of the community. The encouragement you all give me is simply wonderful--it means very much to me!
I acknowledge the efforts of those early wetlook enthusiasts of the 1940's and 1950's who put forth their time and energy to produce the excellent wetlook photos of lovely ladies dressed up in their finery. Their efforts served as my inspiration to produce this, my first vintage-wetlook story.