Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Corporate Justice 3

© Guyspencer 2012
Corporate Justice 3

After seeing the relieved and delighted look on Adam’s face when she assured him that she wasn’t mad at him, even though he had just bruised her bottom in the Correction Facility, Jill had high hopes that he would appear later that night.

Had it not been for Adam, today would certainly have been the worst day of Jill’s life.  Caught operating an illegal beauty salon in her apartment, Jill had been sentenced to two sessions of CP.  Today had been her first. While at the Quick Correction (QC) facility, she had met and immediately fallen in love with Adam.  Adam had served as her Correction Administrator (CA), which means that he was the person who interminably spanked her bare bottom until it was livid and bruised.  Strangely, she didn’t hold it against him.  She had been sentenced to the punishment, and Adam was just doing his job. 

Of course, that didn’t make her bottom feel any better.  The trip home had been painful and embarrassing.  When she boarded the bus in front of the Justice building, the bus driver had snickered loudly when she stood in the half-empty bus.  He obviously knew enough to easily recognize someone who had recently been a “client” in the QC facility.

Finally inside her apartment, she stripped and laid face-down in bed.  Old childhood memories of long-ago parental spankings played through her head.  Finally, mercifully, she drifted off to sleep.

Later, her eyes popped wide open when she heard a knock.  She jumped up, the movement reviving the pain in her bottom.  Frantically she looked for something to cover her naked body.  “Just a moment” she called as she urgently searched for a robe. 

Finally covered, she cracked open the door.  Sure enough, Adam!

Quickly she let him in.  Finally alone, the new lovers shared their very first kiss.  Not really thinking, she said “I need time to get dressed.”

Blushing, Adam asked, “Haven’t I already seen everything?  Besides, I have something to help your bottom.” 

It was Jill’s turn to blush.  “I guess you’re right,” she admitted.

Adam opened the paper bag he was carrying and produced two bottles.  One was wine, and a smaller bottle held a white cream.  The cream he had obtained on the underground economy.  The irony that he had so recently spanked Jill for much the same offense was lost on both of them.  The underground economy is a natural survival tactic for downtrodden workers worldwide.  This government was no more likely to stamp out the underground economy than to stamp out sex, or breathing.  However, logic doesn’t stop a government from trying the impossible.

Minutes later, Adam had convinced Jill to lose the robe and to lie on her bed with her legs spread open for an application of the soothing cream.  She relaxed has his now-gentle hands spread the cream over every square inch of her spanked skin.  Then his slippery fingers started to explore…

The night was as sensual and idyllic as they had dreamed it would be.  The same can be said for their blossoming relationship over the next two weeks.  The only dark spot was Jill’s looming punishment.  When Jill received the subpoena ordering her to report the following week for her first Overnight Correction (OC) session, Adam tried to tell her what she was in for, and to offer helpful advice.  However, Jill refused to discuss the issue, “I’d rather not know.  Either way, I’ll get the same punishment, and it will be over just as soon.”  Adam didn’t agree, but he couldn’t convince her.  Fortunately, they agreed that Adam shouldn’t be there when it happened.  So Adam arranged his work schedule accordingly.


Inevitably, the day arrived for Jill’s Overnight Correction (OC) session.  A short bus ride after work took her to the Southwest Female Overnight Correction Center.  Having arrived 20 minutes early, she stood outside and nervously nibbled on a sandwich she had packed for her supper.  There was a small crowd of similarly nervous ladies waiting outside, each carrying a small overnight bag.  

Presently, the door opened, and a lady in a tan uniform called everyone in.  Inside, she carefully checked everybody’s ID, and then issued each person a neck hanger which held their ID card, and a card with a single large digit.  The digit on Jill’s hanger was “4”.  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the digit signified the punishment severity level she had been sentenced to.  Looking around, she saw that 4 was a common number, although there were a few 5’s and a sprinkling of 3’s, 2’s and even one older lady sporting a “1”.

Once all were tagged, a man in tan uniform appeared and introduced himself as the Supervisor.  “We have a full house tonight, so let’s get going.  Through this door is the locker room.  Select a locker, disrobe entirely except for your neck hanger, lock up, and then proceed to the shower room through the next door.  After you shower, proceed through the drying tunnel to the next room.  Questions?”

Hearing no questions, he opened the door and stepped aside.  Jill noticed that several of the ladies pushed to be among the first.  Inside she found a locker and began to undress. She wasn’t half undressed before some others were naked and slamming their lockers shut.   Minutes ahead of her, they headed to the showers.  Jill wondered about the rush,  but saw no need to hurry to her inevitable ordeal.

Finally naked, Jill entered the showers just in time to see a CA stop some dry-appearing ladies and send them back for a proper shower.  They had apparently tried to jump the line by skipping the shower.  Jill showered, and was among the last through the drying tunnel, where blasts of hot air quickly made a  towel unnecessary.

Stepping out of the loud drying tunnel, Jill found herself in the medical room.  There each client was seen by a white-uniformed nurse.  First, Jill had to put her hand in a machine which verified her identity and simultaneously checked for painkillers and other drugs.  The nurse checked Jill’s medical records, checked her tag, took her temperature, and listened to her heart.  “Ok, your identity checks and you’re healthy as an ox,” the nurse said, picking up a cigar-sized felt marker, “Turn around.”

Jill obeyed, and felt a tickle as the nurse marked a big “4” over the base of her spine.  “That’s so there’s no confusion after they fasten you to the trestle” the nurse helpfully explained.  “That way you get the severity of correction you’ve been sentenced to, not more or less.”  The nurse pointed Jill to the next door.

Inside that door, she found herself in a sort of hallway that had been formed by placing a transparent wall along one end of the punishment room.  This is where the clients waited their turn, so Jill found herself at the end of a long line of naked ladies, each with a black number scrawled above her bottom crack. Except for that wall and the lack of lockers, this punishment room was much the same as the one at the QC facility, it was filled with spanking chairs and punishment trestles.

At the head of the line, stood the Supervisor, “All the severity fives come forward.” He said loudly, “We always start with you first.”  Four women reluctantly moved to the head of the line.  Using a pad computer, he checked their names against a list, and then took time to check each client’s file and briefly speak to her.  As he finished with each, he assigned her to a CA, who would lead her to a chair for the fifteen-minute spanking that would start her “correction” session. 

Since Jill was near the end of the line, she had plenty of time to observe the happenings in the punishment room, which was exactly why the wall of the hallway was transparent!  She soon realized that they had also helpfully installed a sound system so that she could hear everything.  At the moment, what was happening was that those four ladies were across four laps simultaneously receiving their standard 15-minute spankings.  The result was loud and frightening.  She knew that things would soon become more frightening, because the trestles were presently empty, waiting for “clients“ to emerge from the spanking chairs.   

Now Jill finally did the math, and figured out why so many of the other ladies wished to be near the head of the line.  After counting the number of clients ahead of her in line, she calculated that she would be standing in that queue and dreading her own punishment for nearly two hours!  She should have listened to Adam.
The wait was hell!  Her legs felt like they would give out under her.  She stood on one leg and then the other, and even tied leaning against the wall. Most of the “clients” ahead of her in line went quietly when their turn came, but none remained quiet for long under the onslaught of their CA’s rubber paddle.  Each client received a full fifteen minutes of that treatment, and for most that was only the beginning.  She watched countless bottoms turn various shades of red as their owners kicked, cried, squirmed, squealed, twisted, & begged as each received a full measure of corporal correction.

Whoever designed this facility had truly thought of everything!  There was even a toilet and sink in one corner.  She saw two clients ask to use the toilet, and permission was freely given.  Using the totally exposed facility looked terribly embarrassing, so Jill guessed that the ladies were desperate.

She never figured out how many CAs there were.  They seemed to rotate through the room so that none would become overly tired from the exertions of “correcting” clients.   In particular, they would disappear into their break room after delivering a 15-minute spanking, and then another CA would take over that spanking chair to do the next 15-minute spanking.  For reasons that Jill was quickly figuring out, the entire process was deliberately unhurried.

That lucky lady who had a “1” on her tag was allowed to go to the next room immediately after her spanking, but everyone else still had more “correction” to come.  In the QC unit, the waiting period between punishments had been optional; here it was a mandatory thirty minutes.  Further, the “fives” remained separated from the rest of the group, apparently being saved to be last on the trestles.  Thus the trestles stayed empty for much of the first  hour.  After the fifteen-minute spanking, each bawling, stricken client would be marched to a location along the wall, and handed the implement that would be used on her when her time over the trestle arrived.  They all stood where they had a full view of the happenings in the room, and of the waiting trestles.     

Surprisingly, the freshly-spanked clients were allowed to rub their livid bottoms all they wished while waiting for their next punishment.  Jill heard one CA tell a client, “Yes, rub all the sting out of that bottom!  That gives us a nice fresh bottom for the second part of your correction.“

Jill could clearly see that most of the spanked ladies had been handed straps, but a few held red medium paddles.  The criteria for the choice seemed to have something to do with the severity of their coming correction and also their skin type.  The “fives” however, were standing in a special group.  Each held both a strap and a sort of rod with a handle on one end.  Obviously, they were due for some especially painful treatment. 

When sufficient clients had finally received their fifteen-minute spankings, and served their minimum waiting time, a CA selected four and pointed them towards the trestles.  He ignored the group of “fives”, leaving them to watch and anticipate.   Using wide black Velcro restraints, he fastened each lady to her trestle, and neatly hung her implement from a hook on the side.  Then he walked away, leaving the ladies time to contemplate their imminent correction.

From her vantage point, Jill could clearly see the numbers written on the backs of each bent-over client. There was one “2,” one “3,” and two “4’s.  Although she would still have preferred to remain ignorant, somehow Jill was unable to tear her eyes away as two CAs appeared and each selected an implement from a trestle.  By now the line in front of Jill had reduced to half its former size.  Her mouth became dry as she peered at the bottoms so prominently displayed over the four trestles.  As she watched the two ladies with the “4”s scrawled on their backs, Jill knew that she was peering into her own future.

Unexpectedly, a distraction tore her attention from the action at the trestle.  A client had been making a loud fuss during her fifteen-minute spanking.  Of course, clients are allowed to make noise, so no problem there!  The problem came after the CA allowed her back up; she slapped him in the face!

The supervisor ran to subdue the client before she did something else.  Quickly the lady realized her error and apologized loudly and adamantly.  With the situation calmed, the supervisor huddled with the slapped CA and the lady.  Had he insisted, the client could have been charged with assault, a very serious matter indeed.  A compromise was reached.  The lady nodded in sad agreement, and actually shook hands with the CA she had so rudely slapped. Then at the supervisor’s order she turned, bent at the waist, and presented her red bottom.  Jill expected the supervisor to apply some sort of corporal correction to the lady, but to her surprise he produced a large felt-tip pen, drew an “X” through the large “3” mark at the base of her spine, and replaced it with a “5”. Then he handed the sobbing lady a strap and a rod before directing her to stand with the other “5”s who were waiting their eventual turn at the trestles.  Having the severity of her punishment increased from a “3” to a “5” would be a painful price to pay, but not near as painful as the punishment for assault to a government official.

Now Jill’s attention returned to the trestles.   The “2” lady had been first.  The CA had spanked her entire bottom with a medium paddle until it’s already reddish hue become several shades deeper.  The lady shrieked and struggled while it was happening, and then she was left, still fastened down, to cry her heart out.  But having only been sentenced to a severity 2 correction, she was one of the lucky few.  Simultaneously, her neighbor was receiving her severity 3 correction.  That CA used a strap to first re-spank every inch of her bottom and thighs, before standing back to deliver several devastation blows to her bottom and sit spots.  The lady was “branded,” painfully bruised much as Adam had done to Jill that day at the QC facility. 

As Jill continued to watch, the two CAs approached the other two clients waiting on the trestles.  Jill wanted to turn away, but her eyes stayed unwillingly glued to the sight.  These ladies had big “4”s written on their backs.  So whatever happened to them would soon also happen to Jill!

The CAs picked up the straps that were hung on the side of each trestle.  Each used the strap to carefully paint every reachable square inch of each lady’s bottom, thighs, and upper legs an incandescent shade of red.  The ladies squealed piteously and ineffectively struggled at their restraints, and their bottoms jiggled and jerked and clenched and rippled from the force of the whipping leather.  So far, their strapping was almost identical to the one just delivered to the severity “3” lady, although the CAs seemed to be more clinical in their thoroughness.  As before, they worked fairly quickly.  Their goal was to re-ignite every nerve ending in the client’s bottom, and bring it to a slightly more livid red then it had been after their spankings.    At a nod to each other, they stepped back to allow themselves room for the vicious finishing strokes.  

Here Jill learned the real difference between severity “3" and severity “4" punishments.  As the ladies shrieked, the CA’s used the strap at nearly full strength to “brand” not only their bottoms and sit spots, but also the backs of their thighs.  It was obvious that sitting would be a painful experience for these ladies for the next several days.   Jill blanched, realizing that she was in for the same treatment. 

When the two screaming, bellowing, twisting, sweating ladies had been thoroughly marked with the straps, the two CAs closely inspected their work, hung up the straps, and casually left.  A few minutes later, a Quality Control inspector carefully checked each lady’s identity and the condition of her bottom while making entries on her pad computer.  Finally she unstrapped the punished clients, leaving the trestles ready for the next set of clients.  She pointed the ladies to a door marked “Retraining Room”.

The line ahead of Jill was getting shorter and shorter.  Jill found herself shaking from nerves.  Most ladies went quietly when their turn came, but a few tried one last futile argument in their defense, several sobbed loudly, and others begged piteously.  None gave any serious resistance, because all had been warned of serious and painful consequences should they try.

Finally Jill’s time came.  She found herself at the head of the line staring at the supervisor.  Unknown to Jill, the Supervisor knew who Jill was.  He made it his business to know such things.  He admired Jill’s compact, perfectly-formed body, and mused that Adam was a lucky man.  Still, even the girlfriend of a CA was treated the same as any other client here.  As he had done with every other client, he found her record on his tablet computer, and then verified her identity tag, and verified the severity number on her tag and written on her spine.  Finally he spoke: “Your full name please?”

“Jill Ann Perkins...Sir.”

He squinted at his computer screen, “Jill you are here today to receive a severity four correction.  You must learn to not deal in the underground economy.  We hope you learn your lesson well, and we hope that this is your last visit here.”

“Y...yes sir.”

“Since you’re the last in line, I suppose you know the routine by now.”

Jill nodded.

The supervisor would have secretly enjoyed spanking her himself, but out of respect to Adam he called a female CA over.  “Jill, please meet Betty.  Betty will apply your 15-minute spanking, and then show you what’s next.”

Time stood still as Jill felt the CA firmly take her by the arm and lead her towards a recently-emptied spanking chair.  She saw the rubber paddle in the CA’s other hand, and knew that it would soon be used on her own bottom.  Jill wasn’t even aware that she was sobbing out loud, but she was vaguely thankful that the tears blurred her sight.  She may have resisted a bit, but a firm tug put Jill across the CA’s ample thighs, Her feet slid under that familiar padded rail that left her legs free to kick and splay, but prevented her from lifting them above the horizontal.

The CA activated the timer hanging from her neck, and expertly began Jill’s correction.  Unlike before, Jill lacked the advantage of being distracted by sexual arousal.   This time, she felt the full effect of every blow of that wicked little rubber paddle right from the beginning.  Almost immediately Jill screeched and did a lewd horizontal dance as the CA paddled her jiggling globes red.  To Jill, this spanking seemed much worse than the one Adam had given her, even though there was likely little actual difference.

Jill tried to twist herself off the CA’s lap, but she really didn’t have a chance against the strong and experienced lady, who easily held her in place and continued to rain corrective pain onto Jill’s tender rear vistas.  As before, the worst part was when the CA insisted that she open her legs so that she could apply a proper dose of “correction” to Jill’s tender inner thighs.

To Jill it seemed to last forever, but even forever has its limits.  The spanking finally over, Jill found herself dancing and bawling in front of the CA who looked at her with studied professional detachment.  “OK, that’s the first part of your correction,”  she said, “hopefully you’re learning from this experience so that we never need repeat it.”

Then the lady took the still-crying and red-bottomed Jill over to a wall where numerous implements hung.  She selected a wooden-handled strap and handed it to Jill.  “You’ll need this for the second half of your correction, but you get a nice rest first,” she explained as she pointed Jill over to where other red-bottomed clients awaited the finale of their correction sessions.

Physically and psychologically, the wait was hell.  She watched three sets of four clients take their place over the trestles and then howl and scream their way through their strappings.  Her legs were already sore from having been on her feet over two hours, and naturally her bottom stung and throbbed.  The staff actually solved one problem without even being asked.  Mostly from the cold in the room, but partly from shock, Jill started to shiver.  Her breasts and bottom cheeks jiggled fetchingly as the poor girl became colder and colder.  One CA noticed, and brought her a small blanket to wrap around her shoulders.  Quickly she warmed up.  She wished that she could disappear into the blanket and make the strap and those damn trestles go away.  
Finally it came Jill’s turn to be secured to a trestle.  Except for the still-waiting “fives” Jill was among the last group to be led to the trestles.  As she approached the stands, her eyes filled with fresh tears.  Through a strange buzz in her ears, she was barely able to grasp the simple instructions.  Shakily, she hung her strap on a handy hook on the side of the trestle, folded her blanked under her, stood on tip-toes, and laid herself across, putting her poor red bottom high in the air.  

The lady in the next trestle sobbed loudly as the CA strapped her in, then it was Jill’s turn to be secured.  With his hands at her hips, he firmly adjusted her into exactly the proper position.  Then he fastened her waist down with a wide black Velcro strap.  As he fastened her wrists, he spoke gently, “Your whipping will hurt like hell, but comparatively speaking it will be over quickly.  You are severity “4", so towards the end we must bruise your bottom good so that you have a good reminder of this lesson for the next few days. That also will happen quickly.  Make all the noise you wish, but otherwise just let it happen.”

Then he moved behind her and urged her to spread her knees wide.  As he fastened her legs, Jill morosely realized that she was giving the man a gynecological view of her charms.  Then he moved on to the next client to repeat the process.

Once strapped in, they made all four clients wait another excruciating five minutes before anything else happened.  Then she heart steps approach.  Jill had the #3 trestle, but there were only two CAs, so she had to listen as the first two clients received their strappings.  Jill cried, cried in sympathy, and cried in fear for herself. 

All too soon, she felt a presence next to her and somehow knew that someone was lifting the strap from the side of her trestle.  She wasn’t brave, wasn’t the slightest bit noble.  Like the others, she blubbered and begged and shrieked and futilely struggled as the strap bit into her bottom.

Besides being horribly painful, frightening, and humiliating, her subsequent beating was a terribly impersonal experience.  She never even saw the person who did it, didn’t even know if it was a man or a woman.  The truth was, after the first few excruciating kisses of the strap, she didn’t remember much at all.  She must have screamed as the leather bit into her bottom, because her throat was sore for the next three days.  Even her arms and legs were sore from struggling against the restraints.  Naturally, sitting would be painful for days to come.

They gave her time to come to her senses, and then the Quality Control lady unstrapped her.  As Jill stumbled to the Retraining Room, she caught a fleeting impression of someone setting up a tripod with a video camera.

The Retraining Room had a huge video screen mounted on the wall.  Chairs were in rows classroom-style, but few clients seemed interested in sitting.  There were two CAs in the room, who insisted that all pay attention to the propaganda film that was currently running.  There was also a white-uniformed nurse.
As Jill watched the film, she heard sounds of strapping coming from the punishment room.  She correctly guessed that the “fives” were finally getting their turn at the trestles.  A few minutes later, the propaganda film suddenly ended, and the screen switched to a view from inside the punishment room.  Four very red-bottomed ladies were fastened over the trestles, their preliminary strappings obviously done.  Each of them had a big “5" scrawled over her backbone.  Next to one of them stood a CA holding a rod.  The rod was plastic, about the thickness of a curtain rod, with a wooden handle at one end.  He showed it the client, who piteously begged to be let off.

 The beating that ensued, in high-definition super-wide video, was terrible to watch.  The next three weren’t any better.  These weren’t  British-style “six of the best,” but rather American-style thrashings.

Both the Quality Control person and the supervisor watched carefully as the thrashings were given in turn by four CAs.   The slashing rod left cris-cross thin weals all over each client’s buttocks and upper thighs.  The huge video screen displayed each thrashing in magnified high-definition perfection.  A well-placed microphone picked up the “sssss-thwack” of each stroke and the anguished, piteous vocalizations of each client in turn.  Exactly as intended, each client in the Retraining Room silently resolved to never earn a severity five punishment.

Finally it was over, and the four thrashed clients were half-carried into the Retraining Room to be checked by the nurse.  Now only one client remained in the Punishment Room, the lady who had slapped the CA.

The camera continued to run.  The supervisor went to the client, spoke quietly to her for a moment, and then led her out in front of the camera for a bit of theater.   He waved over the CA who had been slapped.  The man still had an angry red mark on his cheek. 

“I believe this lady has something to say to you.” the supervisor announced.  He took the lady’s hand and pulled her forward.

“I...I’m sorry I hit you sir.  Thank you for not pressing charges.”  She held out her strap and rod.  “Please...please use these to p...punish...”  Words failed her.  She simply looked at the CA beseechingly.    

In the professionally dispassionate manner typical of all CAs, the man betrayed neither anger towards the lady nor pleasure at this opportunity to “correct” her.  But still, he needed no further encouragement!  He led her to the nearest trestle, firmly urged her into position and began to fasten her restraints.  As he ordered her to spread for the leg restraints. the camera playfully zoomed in on her sex.  The observers in the Retraining Room were startled by the improbable image of a 3 foot-wide vagina on the video screen!

Without ceremony the CA picked up the strap, positioned himself, and began to whip the lady with measured, medium-force strokes.  The camera zoomed back to catch the full effect of the action.  Her already-red bottom quickly became livid.  The poor lady screeched and fought against her restraints as the strap did its corporal work, but all she accomplished was to exhaust herself. 

It only took about two minutes for him to thoroughly strap her from the top of her butcheeks to well down her thighs.  That done, he looked at his supervisor and received a “thumbs up”.

Then came a short delay to allow the lady to return to her senses so that she could properly appreciate what was next.  In the retraining room, the nurse took the opportunity to spray antibiotic on the bottoms of the four clients who had just been thrashed.  The spray would neither reduce pain nor inflammation.  Clients were meant to feel the full effects of their “correction”.

Back on the video screen, Jill saw the supervisor pick up the rod, swish it a few times in front of the lady’s face, and then hand it to the waiting CA.  The poor lady sobbed and begged, but nobody took any notice.  The thrashing that followed was a carbon copy of those that had just been delivered to the other four clients who had been sentenced to a severity five correction.  Even though she was “maxed out” from watching and experiencing so much punishment over the last two hours, Jill couldn’t tear her eyes away from the spectacle of the lady’s bottom being savaged so.

Finally it was over.  The clients were allowed into the dormitory where they made their own beds.  Jill spent a miserable night face- down, her hot bottom exposed to the cool air.


They all were released the following morning.  Standing in a gaggle of other clients at the bus stop, Jill felt sad and lonely.  Overnight Correction was intended to not interfere with work, so it was never considered an excuse for absence from work.  Therefore it would be evening before she could see Adam. 

Then she heard someone calling her name.  At first she was afraid it was someone from the correction center, but then she recognized the voice over the street’s din.  It was Adam!  Oblivious, they hugged furiously.  It was a crazy expense, but Adam had hired a cab to take Jill to work.  Soon they were off.

The taxicab took a detour.  Jill opened her mouth to protest, but Adam covered it with his,  They turned into a secluded park.  Obviously prearranged, the driver opened his door car and wandered away.

“We don’t have much time,” Adam said, “but we have two important things to do.” 

Before she could voice a question, he had pulled her across his lap, raised her skirt, and began applying salve to her pantyless bottom.  Jill cooed with relief and sudden arousal.  He slipped a finger into her dampness.  Adam was having his own arousal problems, but time was short.  He had great plans for Jill’s bottom, plans with no discernible end.  But right now time was short:  “Sorry we don’t have time for that right now.” he explained, “But there is one more bit of business.”
He handed Jill a tiny box.  She opened it to find a ring.  “Well Jill?  Will you marry me?”

The surprise was complete.  Tears sprouted from her eyes when his meaning sank into her addled brain. She flung her arms around his neck and bruised their lips with her wordless answer.

Adam got Jill to work barely on time.  Everybody knew where she had spend the night, and why she preferred to work standing up that day.  But nobody could figure out how she could be so damn happy after an ordeal like Overnight Correction.

© Guyspencer 2012

Sunday, August 05, 2012

Sex And The Single DCS Student

© Guyspencer 2012

Sex and the Single DCS Student.

Disciplinary Charter School (DCS) is a charter school that uses a repurposed shopping mall as a vast indoor campus and specializes in bright students with troubled backgrounds. The school has both boarding and day students.  Because of its boarding facilities and exceptional security, the school is allowed to accept students from reformatories.  Despite the troublesome nature of its students, the school produces excellent results through careful selection of only the brightest and most motivated students, excellent facilities, and the provision of the structure and discipline that these difficult students require.   

Like most any coeducational high school, it’s common for DCS students to pair up, date, go steady, and fall in and out of love.  The school tolerates, even encourages this normal teen behavior…to a point.  Naturally, there are rules.  After all, DCS is a school of rules and structure.  Specifically, DCS allows nothing more intimate than hand-holding, a gentle hug, or a quick kiss.  The school’s normal (non-inmate) students have less trouble with these rules because they have the opportunity to go off-campus where DCS rules don’t apply.  The inmate students however, are confined to the campus, so they must live by the school’s rules 24/7. 

To help enforcement, the male and female dorms are at opposite ends of the mall.  After 9PM, all inmate and boarding students must be in their dorm area, and day students must leave the campus.  No students may wander the mall after that time.  By night the mall is patrolled and electronically scanned, leaving little opportunity for “hanky panky”.

The food court is popular in the evening.  Students meet there for snacks, homework, socializing, and (naturally) smooching.  Should they desire some heavy petting, most students can simply check out of the campus and (for example) take a walk in the park.  The only requirement was that boarding students meet the 9PM curfew.   Even that can be relaxed by special permission.  

Obviously, any inmate student who has successfully found a boy or girlfriend among the student body would watch this activity with frustration, because they have no similar way of avoiding campus rules.  Of course, that doesn’t stop some from trying!


This brings us to the story of two inmate students, Adam Barnes and Evelyn Rogers.  Known throughout the campus as “Adam & Eve”, this couple met and became quite inseparable shortly after being transferred to DCS from their separate reformatories.

Compared to the single-gender world of their reformatories, DCS at first seemed like freedom itself.  For the first several weeks, Adam & Eve were content to hold hands, talk for hours, and spend evenings at the food court simply staring into each other’s eyes.  But as their hormones began to seemingly boil, they increasingly chafed under the restrictions of DCS life.

At first, they just tried to steal a few private moments for a long full-body hug, a deep kiss, or perhaps an intimate grope.  They fully believed that would satisfy them if they could just manage it.  The dorms were watched and therefore impossible, but a dark classroom doorway might suffice, or around a remote hallway corner.  One would expect to find many nooks and crannies in a giant mall where a couple might hide for a few minutes, and there are!  The trouble was, the security team already knew about them. 

The security system followed their movements through the mall far better than they knew.  The security cameras used face-recognition technology, plus hidden proximity detectors to periodically read their ID tags.  It soon became a game with the security team.  They programed the system to alarm whenever “Adam & Eve” wandered towards any remote part of the mall.  

Usually, a security guard magically appeared in time to discourage them, but twice things had progressed so far that it couldn’t be ignored.  Then they were sent to the Principal’s (Sandra Evens) office for “pops.” (A few severe paddle strokes to the bare bottom)  Each time that happened, they were “good” for a couple weeks, but then they would gradually start to test the system again.

It was Evelyn who thought that she had plotted a master stroke.  She had overheard one guard complain to another that no surveillance cameras were allowed in the girl’s bathrooms.  With that bit of “information”, she decided that they could simply hide in a remote lady’s room stall to be safe from observation.

Over several evenings they staked out the remotest lady’s room in the mall.  They walked together each evening in hopes of getting the security staff used to seeing them take an innocent stroll.  Their walks almost always took them past that lady’s room.  At least once each evening, they would stop outside that particular place so that Evelyn could pretend to use the facilities.  She always found the place deserted. 

Emboldened, they finally tried it.  One mid-evening they strolled to their chosen lady’s room.  Evelyn popped in to ensure the coast was clear, and then motioned Adam inside. 

Then the security system went wild!  The hidden proximity reader read Adam’s ID card as he walked through the door.  An “exception alert” flashed on the security console, “Male entering Lady’s room 201”.  Evelyn’s belief that there were no cameras in the lady’s room proved incorrect, it’s just that their video was normally disabled.  However, the protocols programmed into the security system enabled the video due to the “exception alert”.  From the ceiling-mounted hidden camera, a perfect picture of Adam strolling into the lady’s room popped up on the security console.  The console operator clearly saw “Adam & Eve” hug, kiss deeply, and then disappear into a stall.  He picked up a portable radio to sound the alarm. 

Protocol required a female guard to enter the lady’s room, so it took nearly five minutes for the sole female guard to run across the mall.  Inside the lady’s room, she heard heavy breathing.  Ducking down, she saw a pile of clothing and four bare feet under the door.  She grabbed the clothing, pulling the pile out of the stall.  Eve squealed when she saw the movement. 

“Unlock the door now!” the guard demanded.

Seeing no escape, the couple sheepishly complied.  When the stall door opened, Eve was wearing only her bra, which was askew.  Adam was wearing his T- shirt, a rampant erection, and a “deer caught in the headlights” look.  Examining the scene with professional thoroughness, the guard noted that Adam’s protrusion was still dry.  She had apparently arrived in time to prevent a possible pregnancy.

The female guard courteously allowed Eve to replace her undies before allowing the two male guards to enter.

Adam & Eve spent a miserable night in two tiny “lockdown” cells in the security office.  The next morning, they were taken to the Principal’s office along with a complete report of the incident.


The day wasn’t starting out real pleasantly for Sandra Evens, the Principal of DCS.  Frankly, her bottom hurt.  Last night, Donald Post, the Chairman and chief benefactor of DCS had taken a paddle to her bottom, a punishment for neglecting to properly manage the school’s budget.  Dealing with a thorny problem like Adam & Eve was the last thing she wished to face just now.

The coeducational nature of DCS was one of the real sticking points to inducing the state to approve DCS to house inmate students.  “What if an inmate gets pregnant?  What’s to prevent that?” the bureaucrats wanted to know.

It had been difficult, but a long presentation on their security arrangements and a demonstration of their high tech security/surveillance system had finally won the day.  Now Sandra had just learned that same system had nearly failed to prevent two inmates from having coitus.

She saw Adam first. She and Adam had a long talk about “responsibility”.  She outlined the devastating effect that pregnancy would have on Evelyn’s life.  Then she explained how it could impact him and all other inmate students if DCS were to lose its certification to house inmates.   Finally she brought up the matter of their apparent lack of “protection”, (condoms are freely available to students).  As he left, it was apparent that she had gotten through to Adam, because he was in tears.

Then she had a similar conversation with Evelyn, with similar results.

That done, she called Adam back into the room; she made the couple stand in front of her desk for a full tem minutes as she pretended to work.

Finally Adam spoke:  “Please Miss Evens; I know we’re here to be spanked.  Please let Evelyn go and spank me twice instead.  It’s my entire fault anyhow.  I could have protected Evelyn from this and I didn’t.  Spank me at Assembly if you want, but please don’t hurt Evelyn.”

Sandra could have hugged the boy.  Finally he was taking some responsibility for his actions!

“I’m encouraged that you’re finally thinking about the results of your actions, but you still don’t understand the seriousness of this.” She explained.  “I could simply send one or both of you back to reformatory, but I don’t want to do that because then you would be separated.  Worse, a great opportunity would be lost for at least one of you”

Simultaneously, the young couple blanched.

She bored in, “So now we face the main question.  The only way you two can stay together is to obey DCS rules, difficult as that may be.  Are you willing to do that?  If so, you must stop these sneaky games! Also it means the next few minutes will be hell, because DCS rules make you both equally guilty, so you each must accept your punishment.”

Big eyed, both fervently nodded their agreement.

“Adam, this is going to be particularly hard for you, so let me explain what I have in mind, and then tell me if you’re man enough…or not.

Wide-eyed and scared, he nodded.

“You will both be spanked, Evelyn first.  While that’s happening Adam, you will be right here with your nose in a corner.  You will hear every spank, you will hear Evelyn hurting, and you will know that you are partly the cause of her suffering. You will not peek, and you will not interfere in any way with her punishment.  If you do, you’ll be back in your reformatory today.  “

“After that, of course,” she said with irony in her voice, “you two will switch positions and it will be your turn.  Naturally, I expect you to fully cooperate with your punishment”

It was a dramatic moment.   At first, Adam seemed primed to refuse.  He wordless shook his head as if he had been slapped.  Evelyn looked at him with panic, “Say yes Adam, say yes!  Miss Evens is right.  We agreed to live by DCS rules when we came here, and we welched on the deal.  So now we get spanked but then we get to stay together.  If you love me, say yes right now!”

Adam blinked, and the dangerous moment passed, “Yes Miss Evens, I’ll do whatever you say.  I just want to stay together with Evelyn.”

“That’s Good Adam.  I believe you’re familiar with the spanking chair.   Why don’t you do Evelyn a favor by moving it for her?”

Clearly it rankled a bit, but Adam dutifully picked up the spanking chair, where it had been sitting against a wall, and placed it in the correct spot, facing Sandra’s desk.

With a sigh, Sandra reached under her desk to surreptitiously push a button.  That activated the surveillance cameras in her office, commanded the security system to save a high-definition video of the proceedings for Mr. Post’s later “review”, and notified the security console officer to observe closely.  If there were any “trouble”, Sandra would have instant backup from the security staff.

The truth was, Sandra liked both Adam and Evelyn.   They were both good students, and she thought they made a cute couple.  She would get no enjoyment from punishing them.  But she needed these spankings to be effective!  Making them listen to each other’s punishments was unprecedented, but the goal was to make their spankings more memorable without making them more severe. 


“Do either of you need to use my bathroom before we start?” Sandra asked in a mild voice.

With fervent thanks, Evelyn accepted the offer.  Soon she was back, standing beside Adam.

“Evelyn”, she ordered, “Remind Adam that he is to stand quietly in his corner until I tell him he can come out, and then give him a nice hug before we start.”

In a low voice, Evelyn reminded Adam, pleading with him to “be good”.  Then they hugged, which turned into a long full-body clinch. Sandra was about to object when they finally uncoupled and looked at her expectantly.

She pointed Adam to an appropriate corner, before addressing the suddenly white-faced girl.  In case you don’t remember, the proper procedure is to remove your shoes, pants and panties.  And then stow everything neatly under the spanking chair.

As was fairly normal for them, Adam and Evelyn were dressed in similar outfits, DCS-logo T-shirts with jeans.  However, Adam preferred baggy jeans while Evelyn wore form-fitting stretch jeans.  You would never mistake Evelyn for a boy!

Sandra watched closely as the girl resignedly undressed.  Although her personal preference was for men, she couldn’t help but notice that Evelyn was a knockout.  As Evelyn uncovered her perfect, round buttocks, it occurred to Sandra that it was truly a shame that Adam couldn’t be allowed to see them, touch them.  “Touching them” would be Sandra’s job in just a few minutes, but she would get no special thrill from it.

As Evelyn bent over to place her panties on top of the pile of clothing under the spanking chair, she displayed her most intimate bits to her Principal.  Sandra noted with mild interest that Evelyn was shaved clean.  Presumably, she had done that for Adam’s benefit.  She wondered how often Adam had managed to get a feel of that.  That stiffened her resolve; she must deliver a memorable lesson!

Her preparations complete, Evelyn stood at attention to the right of the spanking chair, facing her Principal. Sandra ignored her, pretending to work for several minutes.  Finally she looked up, and seemed to notice the girl.  Evelyn’s T-shirt extended slightly below her waist, but not low enough to cover her shaved vulva.  Sandra knew that whoever was on the security console would be getting an eyeful.  She hoped it was a female guard.

Sandra kicked off her shoes under her desk, and then stood and glided across the office until she was standing behind Adam.  He jumped when she spoke, “Evelyn is about to receive a hard spanking, one she’s well earned.  Listen to it, and remember that her suffering is partly your fault.  It will be hard for you, but whatever you do, stay silent and keep your nose firmly in that corner.  Understand?”

“Y…yes ma-am.” Adam croaked reluctantly.

Forgetting her sore bottom, Sandra plopped down in the hard spanking chair and winced noticeably.

“OK Evelyn it’s time.  Lift your T-shirt high and then put yourself across my lap.”

Obediently, the girl raised her shirt, front and back, almost to bra level before gracefully bending over her Principal’s lap.  “Hang on to the chair legs, both hands.”

Evelyn’s weight pressed Sandra’s tender bottom down into the hard chair.  Sandra squirmed in pain, and thought grimly of Adam’s greater weight.

Evelyn felt an arm firmly secure her waist into place.  Before the import of that registered in her brain, the room suddenly filled with spanking sounds and her bottom exploded in red-hot pain.  The surprised girl twisted, kicked, and bucked, and then finally filled her lungs enough to manage an impressive screech.  It took only seconds for Sandra to place five overlapping handprints on each of Evelyn’s perfect formerly-white globes.

Her dominance over the sobbing girl firmly established, Sandra turned her head to ensure that Adam hadn’t moved.  Then with slow, moderately-hard spanks, she got on with the task of properly spanking Evelyn.  She did her usual careful job, taking a full ten minutes to spank every part of the girl’s bottom, sit spots, and thighs to a brilliant red hue as the girl begged, squealed and sobbed.

Occasionally, Sandra turned to check that Adam hadn’t moved.  Unseen, the boy had tears running down his face.

Finally she applied her usual finishing fusillade of spanks, they were harder and faster spanks than any before.  Evelyn frantically screeched and kicked.

Then without releasing the girl, Sandra waited for her to return to sanity.

“Normally, that would end it” Sandra announced, “but what you did was calculated and flagrant.  I expect you to learn from this spanking and never repeat that behavior.  Understand?”

The girl blubbered something indecipherable.

Expertly, Sandra shifted Evelyn into a totally restrained position, both hands pinned at her waist, and her legs trapped by Sandra’s right leg.  Sandra reached behind her for the hairbrush-sized paddle that lived in a holder attached to the back of the spanking chair.  Sandra knew this nasty little Lexan paddle well; it was the same one that she had carried up to Mr. Post last night.  He used it to punish Sandra for her carelessness in handling the school’s budget, thus the reason for Sandra’s sore bottom. 

Sandra wanted this spanking to be memorable and effective, but no more harsh than necessary.  To keep from drawing out the agony, she quickly delivered four full-strength paddle swats.  One to the center of each cheek, and one to each sit spot.  Each was intended to leave a painful reminder.  Evelyn bucked and screamed, but was helpless under the short fusillade. 

Evelyn’s spanking was over, but not her punishment.  Now she must change places with Adam, and listen while he suffered. 

As soon as Evelyn seemed steady on her feet, Sandra returned to her desk and ordered her to dress.  She watched implacably as the still sobbing girl gingerly pulled her tight jeans over her sore bottom.  Then Evelyn slipped her feet into her shoes, and stood ready.

“Change places with Adam” she ordered.

The two young lovers risked a hug, and then Adam strode to the spanking chair while Evelyn took his place in the corner.

“You did good Adam.” Sandra said in a surprisingly kind voice.  “Now let’s finish this so we can get back to education.”

“Miss Evens,” he pleaded, “I know I must be spanked, but please let Evelyn go first...please!”

In the same kind voice, Sandra explained, “The kindest thing I can do for you two is to ensure you learn this lesson.  If I can keep you two enrolled, then you’ll be together, and you’ll have great future prospects.  If not, then you’ll be separated and get no further education, so your future prospects will be bleak.  Do you see why I’m being tough?”

The looked at the floor, “Yes ma-am, but she’ll see me cry.”  

“I guarantee that” said Sandra ominously, “and if I know Evelyn, she won’t think less of you for it.”

“That’s true” Evelyn commented from her corner.

“I’m glad you said that Evelyn,” Sandra said loudly,” but now you need to stay in that corner and stay quiet.”

“Adam, get ready.” 

“Yes ma-am” Adam said meekly as he bent over to untie his shoes.

Using the DCS punishment routine, Adam placed his shoes neatly under the spanking chair.  Sandra watched with interest as he removed his pants, folded them, and bent to place them on top of his shoes.  Finally, he lowered his briefs and stepped out of them.  With his back to Sandra, he bent low to put the folded briefs on the pile under the spanking chair.  As he did so, his impressive male fruit hung low.  Sandra reflected that Evelyn would certainly be a lucky lady someday…if she could just keep them together.

Naked except for his T-shirt, Adam stood to the right of the spanking chair and looked at his Principal expectantly.  Almost reluctantly, Sandra moved from behind her desk to sit in the spanking chair. 

This time, she remembered to sit down gently, but she was dreading the pain in her tender bottom that Adam’s weight would cause.

The spanking started out as a carbon copy of the one she had just given Evelyn.  As expected, Adam held out, trying to keep his manly silence as long as possible.  Sandra could have spanked harder and faster to make him yield sooner, but she allowed the boy that last shred of dignity for the first part of his spanking.

Then she got serious, concentrating on his tender upper thighs until Adam finally broke down, first begging for momentary respite, and then finally melting into loud sobs.

By this time, Sandra’s hand was almost as red and sore as Adam’s bottom.  Sandra preferred to spank with her hand.  Her ability to spank even the toughest boy to tears using only her hand was part of her credibility and legend among the students.  However, this time she decided to save her hand.  She reached back and withdrew the paddle from it holder.  She spanked carefully, using only a portion of her strength, but still she easily spanked the poor boy until he was a red-bottomed screeching wreck.

Then she paused, gave him a moment to recover, and then concluded by deliberately “branding” him with four full-strength paddle strokes just as she had done to Evelyn.

For Adam, it was all over but the crying.

When he cognizant enough to stand, she let the sobbing boy up.  Reaching under the spanking chair, she retrieved Adam’s briefs.  She handed them to the prancing boy.  She spoke in a voice just loud enough to be heard over his cries, “Cover yourself so I can let your girlfriend out of the corner.”

 With difficulty, Adam placed his feet into the proper holes and then pulled the briefs over his livid bottom. 

Back at her desk, Sandra called Evelyn out of her corner.  Her face wet with tears, Evelyn ran to Adam, embraced him gently, and then helped him dress.
Moments later, Adam & Eve departed their Principal’s office hand-in-hand, red-eyed and red-bottomed.  For now, they were still together, still enrolled at DCS, and hopefully smarter.

Her bottom still sore from last night’s paddling at the hands of Mr. Post, Sandra squirmed in her desk chair.  She had hated to punish the couple, but honestly believed that she had done the kindest thing possible under the circumstances. 

Sandra was still smiling at the irony of Evelyn’s parting remark; “Miss Evens, I admit we deserved to be punished, but you have no idea how much that paddle hurts.”

© Guyspencer 2012

Corporate Justice I

© Guyspencer 2012

Corporate Justice I

This story is set several decades into USA’s super-conservative future, and there have been many changes.  The middle class has continued its decline until its near disappearance.   So, rich people have become that much richer, and the rest of us…are workers.   

Most workers are poor.  Car ownership is rare, neatly eliminating gas shortages. On the bright side, mass transportation is finally a reality.  Flagship government programs like Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security are a fond memory, traded in for more tax cuts for the rich and for more empty promises of “trickle down” prosperity for the rest.  Hospitals are for the rich.  Most health care is delivered through employer-owned clinics.  Retirees can afford little health care, but their life expectancy is mercifully short. 

The balance of power turned in the early 2000s when a series of carefully scripted Supreme Court decisions gradually granted corporations the privileges of full-fledged citizens, (Actually, the privileges of very rich, very important citizens! )  About the same time, the sainted Rupert Murdoch showed the world that mass mind control could be accomplished thru corporate media control.  Now corporations had all the tools they needed to take control.

So now the USA is a “worker’s paradise,” effectively controlled by a loose collation of huge corporations who managed to totally co-opt the conservative movement, distorting it to serve their own needs.

Government has gotten much smaller, and its interactions with citizens are now more basic and efficient.  For example, one biometric ID card serves as passport, driver’s license, pay book, bank card, credit card, and everything else.  The government no longer prints nor allows money.  All earnings and all transactions go through that single card, making every transaction totally transparent and easily taxed.  The underground economy is forbidden because it’s “unfair competition” to” legitimate corporations”.

The changes to criminal justice and corrections are another example of the efficiencies necessitated by smaller government.  The whole criminal justice system was shrunken by repealing most laws regulating nonviolent behavior, and replacing them with identical administrative rules.  Now, rather than courts and juries, violators face Administrative Rule Adjudicators (ARAs), who are low paid but efficient bureaucrats replacing an army of high paid judges, clerks, prosecutors, public defenders, etc.  Even jails now stand mostly empty, thanks to the substitution of CP-based corrections for most nonviolent violations. 
ARA’s can sentence violators to three main correction modes:

1)    Quick Correction (QC).  A QC facility is usually co-located in the courthouse along with ARAs.  It does just what the name implies.  It can apply up to a severity 3 punishment immediately after the subject has been found guilty of a violation. (One-stop shopping!)    
2)    Overnight Correction (OC) An Overnight Correction Facility (OCF) receives violators after their workday, applies up to a severity 5 punishment and then keeps them overnight for observation and corrective retraining.  They are released in time to report to their job the following morning.

3)    Seven Day Prison (7DP) is the maximum punishment that an ARA can sentence a violator to, although guidelines may allow multiple sessions.  Each prisoner receives daily punishment for an entire week, as well as extensive corrective retraining.  The final punishment session may exceed severity 5 by any amount deemed safe.  7DP, like all punishments, is coordinated with the subject’s employer to minimize any impact on productivity.  Often 7DP is served using a subject’s vacation time.

Regardless of the correction mode, corporal punishment is applied to violators only by highly-trained Correction Administrators (CAs) in any of the several types of specially equipped Governmental Correction Service (GCS) facilities.  In the terminology of the CA, the violators they work with are called “clients”.

(End box or Italics)
June, 2046

Two years out of college, Adam was bored with his job working in a huge corporate distribution warehouse.  In the warehouse, Adam worked with inanimate objects, but he was a “people person”.  He had repeatedly applied for every opening in Human Resources, but the corporation had paid good money too train Adam for his warehouse job, so it was unlikely to pay to retrain him for a different job.  Therefore Adam was stuck in the warehouse.  And that’s just how Adam felt… stuck.   Corporations had agreements about not stealing each other’s workers, so his applications to other corporations were ignored.  Adam’s only chance was to find a job in one of the few remaining small businesses, or to compete for a rare government job.

Adam was a strong, athletic, imposing-looking young man, (besides being amazingly handsome), so finally a job came along that he was uniquely qualified for.   The Governmental Correction Service (GCS) was taking applications for the position of Correction Administrator (CA).  Correction Administrators were the people who apply CP-based correction to violators in GCS facilities.  To put it short and sweet, CAs are professional spankers.  You would think that there would be many applications for that job, especially when you consider that they spend their day spanking unclothed violators of either sex.  But actually the GCS was having trouble attracting sufficient qualified applicants because certain details of their three-month training course had become generally known.  While many might like to give spankings for a living, far fewer were willing to endure the embarrassing, painful and exhausting training course.

Adam had nearly forgotten the application he had submitted when he was summoned to take a battery of tests; physical, psychological, and academic.  Later he was called in for an extensive interview, and then was finally notified of his acceptance and was told when to report for training.
September 2046

It was Adam’s first day at Correction Administrator school.  There are about 30 students, evenly divided between genders.  The GCS Chairperson herself showed up to deliver the welcoming speech to the class.  She explained that being a CA was an honorable profession, and that they would be doing society an important service.  After their first two months of training, they would finally be issued the coveted tan uniform of the Government Correction Service, and would complete their training in an actual GCS facility on real violators under the supervision of an instructor-CA.  However, their first two months would be spent right here in school building their bodies, their stamina, and learning essential skills. 

On that upbeat note, she said her goodbyes.  As she turned to leave, their instructor called “Attention!”  The entire class jumped to their feet as the great lady swept from the room. 

The instructor faced the class, introduced himself, and supplied details of what was to come, “Welcome!  Your daily schedule will consist of two hours of stamina training, and then four hours of classroom training, followed by two hours of strength training.  In your final phase of training and throughout your career, you will all be working with violators, (we call them ‘clients’) who will be naked.  It’s vital that you become desensitized to the sight of the human body.  Therefore you will all now change into the “training uniform” that you will wear for the next two months. Kindly disrobe entirely and pile your clothing on your desk.” 

The students gawked at their instructor, looking for any sign that he was joking.  Seeing none, they looked shyly at each other.  The instructor bellowed, “Yes, your student uniform will be your birthday suit.  Get on with it!”  Quickly, the students moved to obey.  Soon, nearly everyone was naked.  One girl, wearing only a pair of full-cut panties, came to the front of the room and whispered in the instructor’s ear. 

“There’s always one.” he sighed. ”Go see the nurse.  She has what you need.  Be back here in five minutes without those panties.”  She scurried out the door. 

“OK” the instructor bellowed, “Turn around and take a long look at each other.  No covering up!  Get it out of your systems.  Guys don’t worry.  You’ll stop having those inappropriate erections soon.  Better to have them in front of your classmates than in front of your clients.  Until then, you ladies just ignore them.  I know this is embarrassing, but it’s the first step to becoming a professional CA.”

After a quick trip to the lockers to stow their clothing, he got the class seated and settled down in their new “uniforms”.  By now, they all had noticed the heavy black spanking chair, and the padded trestle that were featured prominently in the front of the classroom, both installed on a raised platform for maximum class visibility.  The instructor didn’t need to introduce these items.  Since the introduction of CP-Based Corrections, they had become true icons, an integral part of the popular culture, featured in literature, humor, films, and song.

“Those of you who complete this program will emerge as professional Correction Administrators.  But first you need to master a wide range of skills.  By far, the most difficult skill to master is the standard fifteen-minute spanking.  This is our most common and most basic punishment.  No matter how severe the punishment a client has been sentenced to, the correction session always starts with a fifteen-minute spanking.  This punishment is exhausting to deliver, so you must get into shape.  For the client it’s an excruciating and unforgettable experience, but at the same time there should be no bruising.”

He stood silently to let that soak in, and then added ominously, “The best way to introduce the technique is with a demonstration.”  Then, as he always did with every new class, he picked out the strongest looking specimen in the class.  He pointed to Adam.  “You! Come up here.”

Adam stood with great reluctance.  First, his erection from the undressing episode was still at half-mast.  Second, being no dummy, he had guessed what was about to happen.

The instructor pointed Adam towards the spanking chair as he continued his lecture, “One of our core beliefs in the Governmental Correction Service is that CAs must ‘understand both ends of the paddle’.  That process starts here in your training, and continues through your career.  All of you will have your chance here in the classroom to help me demonstrate some correction technique, either at the spanking chair or the trestle.  Adam here simply happens to be the first.  Furthermore, each of you will make two trips to GCS correctional facilities to experience what it’s like to be a client.  This will give you a full appreciation of the correctional experience.  Also, during phase two of your training, you must practice on real humans.  Since there is a huge shortage of volunteers, you students will serve as each other’s ‘clients’.”

Finally, the instructor walked to the spanking chair and sat down.  To Adam’s mortification, now that his spanking was obviously imminent, his penis had become rock hard.  “It’s good that this happened” the instructor said, turning Adam sideways so the entire class could see the protrusion.  Adam blushed bright red as the entire class stared at his impressively erect manhood.   “For whatever reason, this is a natural male reaction to this situation.  You will see it on many of your male clients.  Notice how I position him carefully so that I don’t mash his manhood.  It’s natural for people to think that we CAs are unfeeling beasts, but nothing could be further from the truth, we are true professionals.”

As he spoke, the instructor firmly pulled the naked Adam across his lap.  The chair had been turned sideways, so that Adam’s white bottom pointed straight at the class.  The instructor held up a small rubber paddle and explained that it was designed to approximate the feel and severity of a hand spanking.  It was normally used instead of the hand to prevent the gradual accumulation of injury to CA’s hands.

The instructor pushed a button on an electronic gadget that hung from his neck, and then started Adam’s spanking in earnest.  Doing his best to both be obedient and to retain his male dignity, Adam simply laid there and absorbed the first two minutes of the spanking.  As the spanking continued without even a second’s respite, he finally started wiggling his muscular bottom, which by now had attained a rosy glow.  At the five-minute mark, Adam was finally grunting and groaning.  His movements gradually became jerky and less controlled.  Finally, Adam’s feet began to levitate and kick.   The instructor seemed to take no notice, simply continuing the spanking.  After turning Adam’s nether cheeks an even & brilliant shade of red, he carefully extended the spanked territory; first working his way around the hips, and then starting down towards Adam’s sit spots.   By now, poor Adam was in full voice and was really struggling.  The instructor, with his years of experience in the corporal arts, easily controlled the strong young man and implacably continued his assault on Adam’s derrière.

By now Adam was kicking wildly.  His legs splayed open, displaying his dangling man-bits to the entire open-mouthed class.  The instructor took that as an invitation to color Adam’s tender inner thighs.  He howled and snapped his legs shut, but the instructor simply ordered Adam to open them again so he could properly redden the tender inner flesh.

Before the fifteen-minute timer finally beeped, signaling the end of the spanking, the instructor had moved his attentions back to the tops of Adam’s buttocks and then had gradually re-spanked his way back down past the bawling, frantic, man’s sit spots, almost to the back of his knees.

He allowed Adam a couple minutes to regain his breath and his wits as he addressed the class.  “Unless I have badly misjudged his skin, tomorrow you will notice that Adam’s bottom has returned to its normal color.  Taking a client to the very edge of bruising without leaving any long-lasting marks is the real art behind the standard fifteen-minute spanking.  Also, Adam shouldn’t feel bad that this spanking made him cry.  I’ve experienced several of those spankings over the years, and cried through every one!”

At that, he allowed Adam up.  Poor Adam spent the rest of the class standing at the back of the room rubbing his poor bottom.  When the class period was over, the class moved to the gym to be introduced to the strenuous exercise program.

The next morning only 25 of the original 30 students showed for class.  As the instructor looked over his nude students, he noticed that Adam was among those with sufficient fortitude to show up for the second day’s class.  The instructor was pleased!  Usually that jarring first day convinced even more students to quit. 

There was one hapless girl who arrived fifteen minutes late for class.  Fittingly, she was selected to help demonstrate the proper use of the trestle and the standard GCS strap.  Fastened onto the padded horse by wide Velcro straps, the girl squealed enthusiastically  as the instructor demonstrated proper strap technique by painting her wide-open anatomy a cheerful shade of red.  Suddenly everyone in the class understood the importance of observing school rules.

As anyone who frequents nudist faculties could predict, nudity quickly became a non-issue between the students.  Adam was surprised to find the sight of his female classmates to be more alluring when he saw them fully dressed, rather than his more usual naked view.  He wondered if they thought the same about him.  Adam preferred his women petit and submissive, quite the opposite of the females in his class.  So he formed close friendships with his classmates, but no romances.

The first month of training was spent mainly on physical fitness and by practicing basic correctional techniques on instrumented dummies that provided instant feedback and grades.  Every day, there was at least one classroom demonstration.  For each demonstration, one student would be called to the front to serve as the bottom.  Everyone got their chance, several times.  There were several implements to be introduced, and the instructor would demonstrate each on several skin types so that the class could see the results.  Also, he demonstrated spanking bottoms just short of bruising, so the students could learn to spot the symptoms.  Naturally, students uniformly hated to serve as the “spanking dummy” but each obediently came when called.  Yes, most sobbed or even shrieked through the experience, but the instructor was understanding, and urged to class to be also.

From the beginning, sanitation was stressed, with one student assigned to sanitize any implements after each demonstration.

Near the end of that month, Adam was sent to a Quick Correction (QC) center, with a genuine-appearing violation recorded in his file.  There, he was treated just like any other “client”.  From the point-of-view of a client, Adam experienced the entire correctional process, including a real severity-two punishment, which included a fifteen-minute spanking followed by a short but excruciating ordeal across a trestle.  Both punishments were applied by a large female CA who believed that Adam was an actual violator.  Adam was relieved when the experience was over, but there remained one more such experience ahead of him, and he knew that one would be worse. 

The second month was especially excruciating, because each student suffered a daily spanking.  Students were paired up daily to practice assigned correctional techniques on each other.  Each session was observed and graded by an instructor.  The instructor pared the students by a random schedule so each would get a chance to practice on either gender, and on multiple body and skin types.  The nurse would treat the recently spanked bottoms so the daily practice wouldn’t be interrupted by injury.  Naturally, the physical fitness program continued without letup. 

You would think that spanking is a simple skill to master, but there were also many academic subjects to be learned.  In fact, the instructors were constantly lobbying for another month to be added to the program.  The students needed to learn GCS regulations & procedures, correctional software, human anatomy, psychology, first aid, sanitation, every correctional implement.  The list seemed endless.

The third month was far more interesting.  All students were finally issued tan uniforms.  Only their badges distinguished them from true professional CAs.  Adam was amazed at how differently people treated him when he was wearing his uniform!  The students still spent time at the school, mainly on physical fitness, but the rest of the time they were assigned to actual Governmental Correction Service (GCS) facilities working on real clients under the supervision of an Instructor-Correction Administrator (ICA).  Here, they got to work with a wide variety of clients, and probably learned more than in the first two months combined.  He spanked dozens of bottoms of all shapes and sizes. 

Being a “people person” Adam found that he greatly preferred to work in a Quick Correction (QC) facility rather than in the much larger and more impersonal Overnight Correction (OC) facilities.  In a QC facility Adam would be assigned one client at a time.  He would interview the client, do the paperwork, direct the client to disrobe, and then professionally apply the correction that the client had been sentenced to. 

Adam had a natural flair for psychology.  He could convince almost any client to accept his or her punishment, if not willingly, then at least with equanimity.  Throughout the corrective procedure, he would encourage the client to see his or her punishment in a constructive light so that they truly changed their future behavior.  Still, Adam never held back.  He always applied a full measure of punishment, and his clients expected nothing less.  Although the punishment was always an excruciating experience for the client, Adam felt that he often helped his clients become better members of society.

This final month of training did feature one event they Adam would remember forever. One morning the school Administrator handed him a bus ticket to a nearby city with specific instructions to report to a certain Overnight Correction (OC) facility.  He was to wear civilian clothes, to act like a client, and was forbidden to disclose that he was actually a GCS employee.  There he found that his official record had him pegged as a repeat offender, and that he had therefore been sentenced to a severity four correction. 

Although by now he was quite familiar with the routine in an OC facility, being on the receiving end of the correctional process was scary, painful and lonely.   He returned home the next day with a bruised bottom and a changed outlook.  The experience forever changed how he treated clients.   The GCS considered this experience so important to their CA’s professional attitudes that they required all active CAs to repeat it annually.

December, 2046

After his training program Adam was officially sworn in as a full-fledged professional Correction Administrator.  That made him one of the higher paid non-supervisory government employees, and a highly respected person.  It also left him very busy!  He stayed too busy to form relationships with the generally Amazonian females in his class, or with those he worked with.  Over the next year or so, Adam was content to grow in his profession, and had little time for a social life.  Inevitably, this very handsome, well-paid, highly intelligent, busy young man had become a prime catch for some lucky lady.

June, 2047

Just a few miles away, Jill Perkins was growing bored with her dreary, dead-end corporate job.  Almost by accident, she discovered that she had a flair for fixing other people’s hair.  Gradually her skill became known by her friends, and Jill had accumulated enough semi-professional gear to set up a sort of amateur beauty parlor in her little apartment.  She never charged anyone.  To Jill it was just a fun diversion.  However, to the government, it was something totally different…  

© Guyspencer 2012

Corporate Justice II

© Guyspencer 2012

Corporate Justice II

December, 2047
It had been a long day at work, but the worst part of Jill’s day was just starting.  The summons had been no surprise.  Her house had been raided and she had been officially booked two weeks ago.  Her appointment with the Administrative Rule Adjudicator (ARA) had been conveniently scheduled for after working hours, but that was for the convenience of the corporation that employed her, not for Jill’s benefit.

Even though they effectively replaced millions of dollars’ worth of judges, clerks, and prosecutors, ARAs were among the government’s pettiest and lowest paid bureaucrats.   The musty office she was escorted into held an overweight, pompous man with an inferiority complex.  In an apparent bid for legitimacy, his walls were covered with certificates of attendance to countless governmental employee seminars.  Tellingly, no real diplomas were in evidence, certainly no law degree! 

Her file sat on his desk.  “You are charged with operating an illegal beauty parlor in your apartment,” he intoned.  “How do you plead?”

“It’s just something I do for friends” Jill explained, “No money changed hands.” 

“That’s fortunate for you,” the bureaucrat explained, “Or you would be guilty of a currency violation in addition to your charges of unfairly competing with a corporation and tax evasion.”
“But…but, I wasn’t running a business, it was just friends helping friends…”

The man cut her off, “Yes!  They all say that!  But you do something for your friends, and they do something for you.  Even with no money involved, it’s all part of the underground economy, and the underground economy steals business from legitimate, tax-paying, job-generating corporations.  We can’t have that!  That’s why you’re here!”

Under the onslaught, Jill simply sobbed.  Tears ran down her cheeks.

“Since you offer no defense, I will enter a guilty plea so we can discuss your punishment.”  The man said in a condescending tone of voice.  “Have a seat while I check a few things.”
Jill sniffed as she sat in front of the man’s desk.  The hard chair creaked and rocked on the uncarpeted floor.

He mumbled to himself for several minutes as he consulted his computer screen and tapped a few keys.  Finally he spoke: “You are a very lucky lady.  There’s one slot open in our in-house Quick Correction (QC) facility today.  That will save you one of the two Overnight Correction (OC) sessions that the guidelines recommend.  I will escort you directly to the correction facility for today’s session.  In due course, you will receive a summons to the OC facility for your overnight session.  Naturally, that will be more severe than today’s correction.  This is special consideration because you are a first offender, so be thankful!”

Jill had trouble being thankful.  She cringed and her buttocks squeezed as she processed the news of her imminent punishment.  Her first offense, this would be her first experience inside a correction facility.

 The bureaucrat escorted Jill downstairs to the in-house correction facility.  As he walked, he ruminated on the injustice of it all.  Jill was the best looking “client” he had ever dealt with.  He knew that soon Jill would be naked, and would be doing a horizontal dance across some lucky person’s lap whilst her bottom was spanked to a brilliant red.  But ARAs weren’t allowed beyond the QC facility’s reception area, so the man who made it all happen wouldn’t be allowed even a quick little peep.  It just wasn’t right!  He resolved to write yet another memo outlining how ARAs had a professional need for a “more intimate understanding of the entire correctional process”.  


The reception area was a dismal affair with one lady sitting at a desk, and a few chairs lining the walls.  The lady wore the iconic tan uniform of the Governmental Correction Service (GCS).  Some of the chairs held people exhibiting various combinations of nervousness and sadness.  The ARA walked Jill to the desk and handed over her file folder.  Then with obvious reluctance, he departed, leaving Jill to her fate.

The lady asked Jill to stick her hand into a gadget on her desk.  She felt a tickling sensation as the machine verified her biometric identity and sniffed her blood for painkillers or other drugs.  “OK, that’s good,” she said brightly, “and we just received your medical clearance from your employer’s health clinic.  So everything’s in order.  Have a seat until your Correction Administrator (CA) comes for you.”

Jill tried to stutter a question, “How long…err, I mean how soon…”

“How long to wait for your punishment?” the lady asked, “Sorry, I’m not allowed to guess.  Uncertainty is important to the correctional experience.  All clients will be dealt with in due course.”

As Jill sat, she noticed the other “clients”.  There were five of them, three men and two women.  She hadn’t yet seen the punishment room, but she could clearly hear sounds of at least two people being punished.  Jill wished that she had picked another seat, because the man sitting next to her was sobbing.  She turned to comfort him, but was stopped by a glare from the desk lady.  Apparently “clients” weren’t supposed to talk to each other.

After about twenty minutes, two tan-uniformed CAs escorted two very stricken-looking “clients” into the room.  Even though one of the CAs was female, they both had the impressive physique characteristic of all CAs. Both clients walked with obvious pain, both sobbing and rubbing their bottoms through their clothes. The CAs left the pair at the desk with their files, and picked up two fresh files.  Every gut in the room constricted as the CAs skimmed the files, cleared their throats, and finally each called a name.  The man next to Jill gasped in relief as two others reluctantly stood to be marched away.   

Shortly later, a single, female CA brought in a client who was so stricken that she needed to be supported.  She moved a chair to the front of the desk, and sat the client down, “Call a cab for this one.  She’s in no shape to take a bus home.”  Then, seemingly unconcerned, she selected a fresh file from the desk.  As she did, she looked right at Jill.  Jill shivered in fright.  The lady was truly frightening.  She had the normal look of a Correction Administrator, and she wore the usual uniform, but it was her eyes that scared Jill.  They were the eyes of a psychopath.  Jill knew that CAs were carefully screened and the lady couldn’t possibly be a danger, but still… 

Jill sagged in relief when the name the lady called wasn’t hers.  The sad man next to her whimpered, and then wobbled to his feet.  The CA escorted him from the room.

It was only a couple more minutes before another CA led another freshly-punished client into the room.  He picked up a file, read it, and then called Jill’s name.

Jill had vowed to be brave, but tears immediately gushed.  She was barely able to follow the man from the room.  She had expected to go straight to the punishment room, but instead he led her to a tiny interview room, “First the paperwork.”

Seated across from the small table that held her open file, Jill’s eyes finally dried enough to get a good look at the man who was soon to beat her bottom.  She gasped!  He had a winning smile, a twinkle in his deep blue eyes, wavy blond hair, and the body of a male pinup.

It had never happened to her before, but somehow she knew this man was as interested in her as she was in him.  They sat quietly across the table with erotic sparks flying between them.  Automatically she checked his ring finger.  No ring!  Looking up, she caught him looking at her unadorned left hand.  After a couple false starts, the man finally spoke, “My name is Adam.  Is…is there anyone else?” 

“No” she assured him, “I’ve been too busy with my job and my hairdressing appointments to find a boyfriend, but it seems I’ll have more time in the future.  You?”

“No” he said, “there’s nobody else.”

Perhaps once in a lifetime, a person will experience a sudden attraction, infatuation & excitement when first meeting someone.  We call this rare phenomenon “love at first sight”.  Rarer still is when that feeling is instantly mutual between two parties.  Vanishingly rare, is when both are not only mutually attracted to each other, but also both free.  Both Jill and Adam had grasped what was happening, but there were two little problems; 1) An ARA had awarded Jill a painful and embarrassing punishment, and   2) It was Adam’s job and sworn responsibility to conscientiously apply that punishment to Jill’s bare bottom.

Finally Adam regained his senses and remembered his job. There was a simple remedy enshrined in GCS regulations for just this situation.   Any CA who felt strong emotion (anger, lust, etc.) towards a client should refer that client to another CA. 

 “Under the circumstances I can’t possibly spank you. Another CA is interviewing a client in the next room.  I’ll switch clients with her.”

Remembering the scary lady, Jill pleaded furiously, “No, no, please don’t!  I know I must be punished.  Do your worst, I’ll recover just like everybody else and then I promise no hard feelings.  Since I must be spanked, I’d prefer it happen across your lap rather than someone else’s.”

Clearly tempted, Adam temporized.  “Let’s discuss the process.  First you must totally disrobe, and then you’ll receive a fifteen-minute spanking.  That’s the basic punishment that everybody gets.  It hurts, it seems to last forever, and it’s memorable, but that’s just the beginning.  Your ARA has sentenced you to a number three correction today, that’s the maximum correction we do at this facility.  After your 15-minute spanking, you’ll be allowed up to a ten-minute break, and then you will either be fastened over a trestle for a strapping, or you’ll get the medium paddle while across my lap.  Either way, your bottom gets bruised. “

Jill gulped, but then spoke carefully, “Regardless of who does it, it’s the same punishment, so what’s the problem?  Nobody need know that I don’t find the idea of you spanking me totally repugnant. “

He smiled at her, which made her melt, “Truth is, I don’t find the idea of having you across my lap totally repugnant either.  So now we’ve been honest with each other.  Just remember that we’re talking about a real punishment here.  Giving you any break would violate my oath.  Besides, we have quality control here.  You’ll hurt for days.”

Jill looked at him wide-eyed, “OK.”

He took her hand, “Promise not to be mad?  Err…I’d like to see you someday… soon.”

“I promise” Jill said with relief in her voice.  That scary lady in the next room was no longer a threat, and suddenly there was a glimmer of a future that included this Adonis of a man.

With new authority in his voice, Adam addressed her.  “First, I must remind you of the reason for your correction.  You were caught dealing in the underground economy.”

Dutifully, he parroted the official line, “That’s illegal because our whole economy depends on corporations.  We need our corporations healthy; therefore we can’t allow unfair competition from the underground economy.”

He continued, “You’ve been sentenced to today’s punishment at severity level three, plus an Overnight Punishment session at a future date at severity level four.  Understand?”

She nodded soberly.

His ears turned red, “Now I must ask a personal question.  You will shortly disrobe…completely… for your punishment.  Is that…errr… Will that cause you any…complications?”

She blushed when she caught his meaning, “It’s not my time of the month if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Sorry,” he said, “I’m uncomfortable with that question, but I’m required to ask.”

He insisted that she make use of a small lavatory, and then escorted her to the punishment room.  This was a loud place, with lockers lining one wall and implements arranged on the opposite wall.   The middle of the room featured a neat installation of heavy spanking chairs and punishment trestles.

Several CAs were energetically working with their “clients”, thus the noise.  All of the clients were naked, except for one man who was standing at a locker undressing.  Adam led her to the adjoining locker.  “As you can see, this is a mixed-gender facility.   Undressing will feel strange at first, but just ignore others and they will ignore you.  Shortly after your punishment starts, your modesty will become a non-issue.  You have five minutes to disrobe and remove your jewelry.  Lock your locker, and then hang the key around your neck.  That key should be all you are wearing.”

Then Adam left Jill with instructions to meet him at Punishment Station #3.

Jill stood uneasily looking into the empty locker.  The man standing beside her, clad only his briefs, was the person she had sat next to in the reception area, the same sad man who had went with the scary lady CA.  He hadn’t been happy then, and he was less so now.  The man sobbed softly.  Just then, the lady CA yelled at him to hurry up.  With a groan, he finally shucked off his underpants and tossed them in the locker.  As he slammed the locker door, Jill automatically looked over…and down.  She wasn’t impressed.  Charitably, she assumed that the punishment room’s frigid air had shriveled his “man bits”.

With the man gone, Jill undressed.  A chair would have helped, but none was provided.  She kicked off her shoes, and then balanced on each leg to remove her pants and socks.  Too soon, she faced that terrible choice; should she save her bra or her panties for last?  In the end, it made little difference; Jill was as naked as every other client in the room.

Perversely, as Jill undressed she thought of Adam, and gradually became excited.  She was embarrassed that she had become distinctly damp “down there”.  Would Adam notice? If so, what would he think?

Finding Punishment Station #3 wasn’t difficult; there was a large digit hanging over each spanking chair.  In doing so, she gave station # 6 a wide berth, because that’s where the scary lady CA was loudly spanking the sad man from the next locker.

Adam sat in his spanking chair, watched Jill approach, and mused about his job, “What a job.  First you meet the world’s most beautiful girl, and then she gets naked, and then you spank her.”  He hoped that Jill would keep her promise to not be mad at him.  But regardless, she must get the “full treatment” regardless of his feelings.

The naked version of Jill didn’t disappoint.  Naturally, Adam viewed countless naked women as part of his job, but never anything like her.  Her tiny frame was padded with girl-flesh in all the right spots.  Her modest breasts defied gravity, yet jiggled provocatively as she walked.  Her tiny waist accentuated the perfect curves of her hips.  Her skin was unblemished and golden.  He couldn’t yet see her bottom, but he had high expectations.  Atop it all was the face that he had so recently fallen in love with.  To his consternation, he felt himself stiffen.

He blushed as he saw Jill glance down at his groin and smile.

He groaned, “I’m, I’m sorry.  This doesn’t usually happen.  I’m supposed to be a professional.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.  Besides,” she admitted with a small blush, “I’m having much the same problem.”

Adam looked around guiltily, and was relieved to find nobody close enough in this thankfully loud room to catch their conversation.  “OK, he said.  This will be very painful for you and very strange for me.  I suppose you know the position.”

Jill had been puzzled by the heavily padded rail to the right of Adam’s spanking chair, but as she obediently put herself into position, its purpose became immediately clear as her legs slid underneath.  It restrained her from raising her legs much above the horizontal, yet otherwise left them free to kick and splay.  It likely made Adam’s job much easier.

“This will be a standard fifteen-minute spanking,” he warned.  “It’s timed by this little gadget around my neck.  It’s OK to struggle a bit, but if you succeed in stopping me, I must add at least a minute for each incident.  Understand?”

Her eyes wide from the feeling of Adam’s impressive erection poking so close to her groin, Jill nodded.

“OK then here we go, “Adam warned, pushing a button on the gadget. It beeped, indicating that it was timing the punishment.  Immediately, Jill felt the first of what would be countless slaps to her bottom. 

All CA’s carry a small rubber paddle, carefully designed to be equal in severity and feel to the human hand.  To avoid repetitive motion hand injury they use the paddle almost exclusively.  For Jill, Adam made an exception.  Who could blame him for wanting to touch Jill’s bare flesh?

Her brain wrapped in a protective erotic fog, Jill rode out the first minutes of the spanking without trouble.  She bounced from Adam’s blows, and ground herself into his lap, leaving a wet stain on his tan uniform pants.  However, by the five-minute mark the sting and pain had finally penetrated and Jill was suffering.  She struggled, but Adam easily controlled her, so she ineffectively kicked and howled.

Adam had passed an extensive three-month training course to become a CA.  Much of that training was in the art of delivering the standard fifteen-minute spanking.  It was supposed to be an unforgettable experience for the recipient, but the real art was in the requirement that every spankable square inch of the client’s bottom be rendered bright red, but without bruising.   As Jill painfully discovered, Adam had been a very gifted student.

Those fifteen minutes gave Adam time to spank far more than just Jill’s perfect pear-shaped buttocks.  As she screeched and begged, he methodically spanked down past her sit-spots, and then along her legs almost to the backs of the knees.  That done, he widened the field, spanking both outer thighs, and then forcing her to open her legs to allow him access to her tender inner thighs.  In desperation, she tried to roll off his lap, but she never had a chance.  Adam was not only strong, but a true spanking professional. 

Jill was almost glad when Adam returned to his original targets for the last several minutes.  She kicked her legs wildly, her feet thrummed on the floor, and the backs of her calves bounced off the bottom of the padded rail, but it was all for naught, the spanking continued remorselessly to its conclusion.

Finally Adam’s gadget beeped loudly and her ordeal was over.  Adam held the squirming, squalling girl down until he judged she would be safe on her feet.  Finally vertical, she danced, rubbed, and squalled like a person possessed.  Adam watched with professional concern.

When she quieted enough, he reminded her, “We’re not done.  If you’re smart, don’t delay.” 

Remembering, that there was still punishment due, Jill forced herself to calm down.  She looked at him soberly.  “Yes sir, can we finish it?”

He pointed to a wall that held several implements.  “Go fetch me a medium paddle, it’s the red one.”

Jill wasn’t stupid.  She realized that Adam had done her a favor by reminding her not to delay.  Tempting as the idea of a temporary respite was, she hurried to get the paddle.  Professional or not, Adam enjoyed the sight of her red bottom wiggling its way across the room.  On her return trip, Jill noticed the sad man fastened to a trestle, and the scary lady CA swinging a strap.  She was thankful that Adam had decided on the paddle for her rather than the strap. 

Obediently, she handed Adam the paddle.

He was straight with her, “This will be far worse than before, but much shorter.  Let’s get started so we can finish.

Obediently, she lay across his lap to present her already livid ass for further correction.

He spent the next two minutes using that paddle with moderate blows to re-ignite every nerve ending in her bottom.  She kicked, and splayed, and twisted and screeched, but all to no avail.  When he was finally satisfied that the job was totally done save the finishing touches, he paused and whispered “sorry”.  Then, using most of his very considerable strength, he “branded” her with three quick but vicious blows to the summit of each buttock, and then two similar blows to each sit spot.  Jill screamed so loudly that half the people in the room turned to look.

Still pinned across Adam’s lap, Jill seemed inconsolable.  Naturally, Adam had seen this same distress hundreds of times, but he had felt only professional concern for all those others.  Jill was different!  Would she ever talk to him again?  

Adam waved the Quality Control manager over.  His job was both to ensure that Jill had been properly punished, and also to check for any injury beyond normal bruising.  He had already noticed Jill’s body, so his exam was extra-thorough. He even urged open her legs to check her inner thighs for proper redness, and to feel carefully for “skin abrasions”.  Adam felt a definite jealous reaction before the man finally finished and complimented Adam on his work.  The man lifted Jill’s folder from the holder on the back of Adam’s chair and signed his approval.  Then he replaced the folder and finally ambled away.

Reluctantly, Adam helped the still-sobbing girl to her feet, told her today’s punishment was over, and pointed her towards her locker with instructions to dress.  He wanted desperately to hug Jill, but that was strictly forbidden.  Besides, although she had promised otherwise, he feared that she was angry.

As Jill shambled towards her locker, she saw the sad man pulling on his underpants over a red and mottled bottom.  By now, modesty was the last thing on her mind, so she ignored him and opened her locker to dress.

As Jill dressed, Adam sanitized and replaced the paddle, and then signed Jill’s folder in the appropriate place.  Although he wasn’t hopeful, he jotted down Jill’s address and phone number on a scrap of paper.  As he did so, he glanced across the room where Jill’s body was too -quickly disappearing inside her clothing.  He wondered if he would ever see that body again.  Since he was often assigned to the Overnight Punishment center where Jill would eventually go, there was at least a chance that he might see her again professionally.

Over at the locker, Jill found that dressing immediately after a spanking could be an uncomfortable affair.  It hurt to pull her panties over her livid bottom, and that was just the beginning, she still had to deal with her tight jeans.  Next time she vowed to wear a loose skirt without panties.  There was still no chair, but sitting was the last thing on her mind. 

She leaned against an adjacent locker as she painfully lifted one leg and then another to pull on her jeans.  As she did so, she saw Adam and the chair that they had so recently shared.  Despite her lingering pain, she felt her former arousal return with a vengeance.  Now she had two reasons to squirm as she dressed.  

Finally she was dressed.  Adam motioned her towards the door.  She needed no further encouragement to leave this place.  She knew that she still had another punishment session remaining in her sentence, and that it would be worse than today’s session, but she would worry about that another day.  Right now she had other things on her mind.


As Adam led her down the hallway back to the reception area to be released, he mustered his courage, “Is…I mean…can I call you in a day or two?”

Jill hesitated.  On one hand her body was making urgent demands, on the other hand she was afraid that he would think her a slut if she said what she was really thinking.  As was typical for Jill, she finally spoke her mind, “Yes, a call would be good, but a knock on my door would be better…especially if it were tonight”.

Adam’s smile lit up the room.

© Guyspencer 2012