Part One
 |
| Image from theoriginalinstitute.com |
The day of Nancy’s judicially-mandated punishment had come, and there was no way out. She sat on her cot in the grey prison-issue shift that had been provided for her. It was essentially a hospital johnny, covering her in the front but completely open in the back. She would soon be marched out to the punishment scaffold and spanked over the warden’s knee in front of the whole town.
Nancy shuddered with horror at the thought. She was a 25-year-old, 5’ 5” demure brunette with a beautiful face and a slim, tight body. The only part of her anatomy she was displeased with was her backside. It was disproportionately large in her view, and nothing she did could change that. Soon every inch of that part of her anatomy would be on on display for general view and commentary!
She’d been aware, of course, of the new rules concerning public punishments and forfeiture of modesty for repeat offenders--everyone was. So why had she chosen to shoplift--twice?
The answer was simple: she thought she could to get away with it.
The first thing she’d lifted had been a small bit of costume jewelry. She hadn’t even really wanted the trashy thing. But the thrill of dropping it in her bag unseen (so she thought) was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
The surveillance cameras, however, were fully operational in that store; she did get caught.
Her sentence was a weekend in jail, and included witnessing up close another prisoner spanked on the punishment scaffold. It was awe-inspiring to say the least. The poor 19-year-old was made to stand facing facing the crowd, her hands on her head, while the charge against her was read. Then she was taken over the warden’s knee for an epic spanking on her bare behind. The hand spanking part of the punishment went on for five minutes straight; the girl was nearly hysterical by the end of it. She’d then been required to stand, her red bottom on display to the crowd and her hands on her head, for the longest two minutes of her life. This was followed by another five-minute trip over the warden’s knee, this time with a small leather paddle.
By the time it was over, she was hoarse from her screaming. She leapt wildly about on the scaffold, her hands frantically rubbing her bright-red rear end. The crowd found this quite amusing, and applauded with gusto. After a few minutes, she was commanded to take her standing position again; she was required to stand motionless for an hour while the crowd took in the sight of a thoroughly humbled (and hopefully reformed) young lady. Nancy, seated to the side with a few other first-time offenders, witnessed the girl’s humiliation from a mere five feet away. She promised herself she’d never steal again.
Yet here she was, about to be “the main attraction” herself.
She’d found the urge to pocket a small, expensive purse nearly irresistible. When she blithely dropped it into her bag, she felt the familiar “rush” that had accompanied her first shoplifting experience. She was certain she’d get away with it.
She didn’t.
Now, Nancy heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, and felt a thrill in the pit of her stomach. Two young guards, one male and one female, stood outside her cell and barked orders at her.
“Convict, stand up!” This from the young man, who actually looked younger than Nancy herself. As if robbed of all volition, Nancy leapt to her feet.
“Come on, little girl,” said the young woman with a predatory smile as she opened the cell door. “Time to show the other naughty boys and girls what happens to thieves in this town.”
Nancy felt a wave of outrage course through her. This girl was about her own age; her use of diminutives was clearly intended to humiliate, and it did.
She was escorted down the hall between the two guards, who stopped her at the rest room. The young man opened the door and gestured for her to go in.
“Do your business,” he said, causing Nancy’s face to flare. “The warden doesn’t take kindly to ‘accidents.’”
Nancy walked into the tiny bathroom, her hands moving of their own accord to cover her backside as she did so. This brought a couple of chuckles from the guards.
“Happens every time,” said the young man.
“I know, right? As if that big behind isn’t gonna be on show to everybody in a minute!”
Nancy fumed behind the door as she sat on the cold toilet seat. As if it wasn’t bad enough that her backside was about to be publicly displayed and spanked; these two felt the need to comment on its size and rub it in!
She flushed the toilet and washed her hands. For one mad moment, she imagined barricading herself inside and refusing to come out until the warden agreed to her demands. Chief among which would be replacing her current sentence with a fine and letting her go!
Sighing, she realized the utter futility of such a scenario. Another repeat offender had recently tried something similar. For his trouble, he got a second spanking the following day, and was required to stand on the scaffold for two hours on both days. Nancy had been part of the appreciative crowd that took in his humiliation. Males being publicly punished wore a different uniform: it consisted of an athletic supporter and nothing else. The young man in question, a certain Bobby McCay, had treated Nancy’s friend Kyra rather badly. The two young women made a point of arriving early and securing a place directly in front of the scaffold that day. As the unfortunate young man was marched out in almost-his-birthday-suit to be spanked by the warden’s young female assistant, they gave him “revenge is sweet” grins and high-fived each other. Bobby’s face flared cherry-red and he hung his head in thoroughly-shamed dismay.
Now it was Nancy’s turn.
She opened the bathroom door, and the two guards escorted her up the stairs and toward the entrance to the punishment scaffold. She could see the sunlight; it was a bright, warm Saturday morning in May, and the town square was no doubt filled to capacity. Flanked by the guards, she gulped and walked out to meet her fate.
[End of Part One]
Copyright Ⓒ 2013 by Aunt Carla
All rights reserved
Yet here she was, about to be “the main attraction” herself.
She’d found the urge to pocket a small, expensive purse nearly irresistible. When she blithely dropped it into her bag, she felt the familiar “rush” that had accompanied her first shoplifting experience. She was certain she’d get away with it.
She didn’t.
Now, Nancy heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, and felt a thrill in the pit of her stomach. Two young guards, one male and one female, stood outside her cell and barked orders at her.
“Convict, stand up!” This from the young man, who actually looked younger than Nancy herself. As if robbed of all volition, Nancy leapt to her feet.
“Come on, little girl,” said the young woman with a predatory smile as she opened the cell door. “Time to show the other naughty boys and girls what happens to thieves in this town.”
Nancy felt a wave of outrage course through her. This girl was about her own age; her use of diminutives was clearly intended to humiliate, and it did.
She was escorted down the hall between the two guards, who stopped her at the rest room. The young man opened the door and gestured for her to go in.
“Do your business,” he said, causing Nancy’s face to flare. “The warden doesn’t take kindly to ‘accidents.’”
Nancy walked into the tiny bathroom, her hands moving of their own accord to cover her backside as she did so. This brought a couple of chuckles from the guards.
“Happens every time,” said the young man.
“I know, right? As if that big behind isn’t gonna be on show to everybody in a minute!”
Nancy fumed behind the door as she sat on the cold toilet seat. As if it wasn’t bad enough that her backside was about to be publicly displayed and spanked; these two felt the need to comment on its size and rub it in!
She flushed the toilet and washed her hands. For one mad moment, she imagined barricading herself inside and refusing to come out until the warden agreed to her demands. Chief among which would be replacing her current sentence with a fine and letting her go!
Sighing, she realized the utter futility of such a scenario. Another repeat offender had recently tried something similar. For his trouble, he got a second spanking the following day, and was required to stand on the scaffold for two hours on both days. Nancy had been part of the appreciative crowd that took in his humiliation. Males being publicly punished wore a different uniform: it consisted of an athletic supporter and nothing else. The young man in question, a certain Bobby McCay, had treated Nancy’s friend Kyra rather badly. The two young women made a point of arriving early and securing a place directly in front of the scaffold that day. As the unfortunate young man was marched out in almost-his-birthday-suit to be spanked by the warden’s young female assistant, they gave him “revenge is sweet” grins and high-fived each other. Bobby’s face flared cherry-red and he hung his head in thoroughly-shamed dismay.
Now it was Nancy’s turn.
She opened the bathroom door, and the two guards escorted her up the stairs and toward the entrance to the punishment scaffold. She could see the sunlight; it was a bright, warm Saturday morning in May, and the town square was no doubt filled to capacity. Flanked by the guards, she gulped and walked out to meet her fate.
[End of Part One]
Copyright Ⓒ 2013 by Aunt Carla
All rights reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment