Friday, November 06, 2015

Special Sentencing

© Guyspencer 2015

Special Sentencing

“Miss Drew Randall, I fine you four hundred dollars for speeding, For the crime of resisting arrest, I sentence you to one week in jail, commencing immediately.”

Standing before the Magistrate, having just heard her sentence, Drew stood speechless, frozen in place.

Miss Randall, do you have anything to say?

Drew stood open mouthed, her brain in turmoil.

Plainly irritated, he asked again, “Miss Randall, before we terminate these proceedings do you have anything to say?”

Again Drew stood mute.

The Public Defender stepped up and squeezed Drew's arm tightly. He spoke respectfully, “Your Honor, I believe Miss Randall does have a request for you, but has a sudden case of nerves. May I have a short recess to confer with her? I hope to save the county expense and trouble.”

Fortunately for Drew, the Magistrate had a full bladder, making him agreeable to a recess.

Still holding that arm, he led her to a corner of the courtroom and spoke urgently, “Can you really afford to spend a week in jail?”

Her mouth still hanging open, Drew shook her head. Relieved at that response, the man asked, “Do you still want the Special Sentencing Program? If so, you must request it when the Magistrate returns. Otherwise you're going straight back to jail. Legally the Magistrate can't give you that program unless you specifically request it. So what will it be?”

“But they'll s-s-spank me!” she croaked.

He answered honestly, “Actually, they'll do worse than that because you resisted arrest. But what's a few minutes discomfort compared to a week in jail? You've already lost one day of work. Will you still have a job after losing seven more?”

Sadly, she shook her head. Drew lived on a shoestring. Losing her job would put her on the street.


Driving home from work yesterday, things suddenly went bad for Drew. She didn't mean to speed, honest she didn't. When the officer pulled her over for speeding, she tried to explain that to him, (as if intent were somehow important). Frustratingly to Drew, the man just wouldn't listen! So in the heat of the moment Drew made the wrong choice. It was a terrible choice that escalated a simple traffic violation into a potentially life-changing crime.

Her mistake was simple: In frustration, Drew closed her window, started her car, and drove off before the officer could write her a ticket.

So that Drew couldn't claim misunderstanding, the officer loudly ordered her to not start her car, and then not to drive off. Both his dash cam and his body camera recorded the entire incident. So when Drew's car started to move, the officer simply stepped back, not even giving chase. After all, he had the evidence on video. With her driver's license in his hand, he even knew where she lived!

Sick at heart, and knowing that she had screwed up, Drew drove home to her little apartment. When the knock came two hours later, she knew what to expect. It was a slightly apologetic police lady with a warrant for her arrest.

The policewoman inquired about children or pets, and was happy to discover no complications. She suggested that Drew bring a change of undies, and then allowed her to douse her lights and lock her apartment before cuffing her wrists and taking her off to jail.

This county had no night court, so Drew suffered through the dehumanizing process of being searched, medically examined, and booked, before spending a restless night in jail. Then she waited all morning for her ride to the courthouse. There she met the public defender, who seemed friendly and helpful. As he interviewed her, he extolled the virtues of a new program called “Special Sentencing”.

“If you talk the Magistrate into allowing Special Sentencing,” he explained, “You could be back at work tomorrow morning. Without it, expect jail time.”

Naturally she asked, “What's Special Sentencing?”

“It's something the county instituted to reduce jail crowding,” he explained, “Rather than incarcerating you, they just do what your parents might have done.”

“You mean the Magistrate will put me on restriction?” Drew asked hopefully.

“Sorry,” he said with a thin smile, “We're talking corporal punishment here.”

“OH!” Drew said quickly, “That's not for me.”

“Miss Randall,” the man explained gently, “You're charged with resisting arrest, a serious crime. Expect to be sentenced to jail time.”

Like the proverbial ton of bricks tumbling inside her head, suddenly Drew realized the seriousness of her situation. Paying a fine would hurt, but even a few days in jail would leave her jobless and homeless. How could she be so stupid?”

So Drew rethought. She fished for more information,”Errr, what would they do… I mean how bad...”

“Believe me,” he explained, “You don't want to know the specifics in advance. Just know that you would go downstairs to the Special Sentencing Unit. You'll hate everything that happens to you there. It will be painful and degrading. You won't want to return. Which is precisely the point!”

“However, you can expect release within two hours from when you arrive. Only a tiny fraction of that time is spent actually being punished. It will hurt, but then your punishment is over. You walk out free with no criminal record. Your bottom will hurt, but will heal. You'll get your life back.”

Drew couldn't believe the words coming from her mouth, “Yes sir, I would like to do that.”


The Magistrate reappeared and the Bailiff called, “All rise!”

Still gripping Drew's arm, he led her back before the bench.

“Your Honor, my client has a request.”

The Magistrate looked down at Drew, “Proceed.”

Drew stammered, “Errr, your honor… I request the Special Sentencing program.”

“Miss Randall, do you know what that means?”

“Y-yes your honor. Corporal punishment, then release.”

He didn't make it easy, “Explain why you deserve special consideration!”

She blubbered her answer, all in one long breath, “B-because it's my first offense, and I've learned my lesson. I admit that I was speeding, but then on a stupid impulse, I made a terrible choice and ran away. I'm so sorry!”

By then she was crying too hard to hear the Magistrate intone, “I hereby suspend your sentences pending successful completion of the Special Sentencing program. You will be remanded to the Special Sentencing Unit for punishment for the traffic infraction, and additionally for the crime of resisting arrest. See the clerk for scheduling. You shall remain in custody until the completion of your punishments.”

At that, the Magistrate moved on to the next case. The clerk waved her to his desk and consulted his computer, “Miss Randall, you are a lucky lady. You have the last remaining appointment today in the SS Unit. Be down there slightly before four PM. Don't be late!”

The clerk carefully reconfirmed Drew's ID, checked her file for last night's physical exam to ensure that she was medically qualified for punishment, and then affixed a hospital-type wrist band. The public defender walked Drew downstairs to show her the door to the SS unit.

It had a sign:


All Clients Must Use the Bathroom Before Entering.

Don't Even THINK Of Being Late For Your Appointment. 

Still officially in custody, he took Drew back upstairs to the courtroom to wait a nervous two hours before her appointment. At 3:45, the Bailiff released her to go downstairs.


Shyly, Drew opened the door and entered. She found herself in a small, plain waiting room dominated by a lady at a desk. The desk guarded an opening into a long hallway with doorways on each side. The “desk lady” took her name and suspiciously checked her ID, comparing it with her wrist band.

Then Drew paid her punishment fee. The Public defender had explained that in advance. The fee was less than what her speeding fine would have been. Since she was being punished for two separate charges, the fee doubled. $200 nearly maxed out Drew's credit card.

The “desk lady's” demeanor was firm and businesslike, yet not abusive. Satisfied that everything was in order, she produced a mesh bag. “Put your purse in here, and then remove everything but your stockings and undies, and put those in also. Keep your bag in sight. Sit down, and they will call you presently.”

She skewered Drew with her eyes, “I see from your file that you're new here. Remember two rules and you'll be fine. First, no talking in the waiting room. Second, obey every command from staff members.

Only now did Drew look around. She saw chairs lining two walls. On one side of the room, two ladies sat nervously, both wearing only socks, bra and panties. Opposite sat an unhappy-looking young man wearing only stockings and boxer-style underpants.

Drew asked the desk-lady, “Err, where do I go to change?”

“Sorry, no changing rooms,” the lady explained, “Everybody here is a client just like you. So just do it and get it over with, but don't block my desk.”

“Oh and another thing”, the lady continued, “Just so you're prepared, your bra and panties come off shortly after they take you back.” As she talked, she indicated the hallway behind her with her thumb.

Slightly numb, Drew selected a chair. Automatically, she chose one that was near the other women, and away from the man. She faced the wall as she undressed, but felt his eyes on her. Fortunately she couldn't see because her back was to him, but his eyes widened at the sight of her nearly transparent panties. At least that man forget his own problems for a few moments!

Finally it was done. Drew stuffed her clothing in the bag. Dressed only in stockings, panties and bra, and wishing furiously that she had chosen more modest panties, Drew sat in the plain wooden chair.

As she sat, she heard the unmistakable sounds of a spanking, which was soon overlaid by a shrill female voice. It was immediately clear to Drew that this “Special Sentencing unit” was a no-frills operation. Not only were there no changing rooms, they didn't bother with soundproofing.

As that spanking continued, a uniformed woman walked in and called a male name. The lady looked strong and big-armed as females go, obviously a professional spanker. At the sound of his name, the only male in the room stood, obviously reluctant. As he did, the fly on his boxer shorts fell open. Fortunately nothing important flopped out, but Drew found herself staring at the man's pubic hair. Catching herself looking, and remembering that she had disliked the man ogling her as she undressed, Drew looked away, chagrined.

As the man followed the lady into the hallway, the spanking sounds stopped, but the female cries continued on.

Briefly, the room lapsed back into silence. The desk-lady hadn't reacted to the sounds, but Drew and the other two ladies exchanged panicked glances.

A few minutes later, the sounds of a new spanking erupted, followed shortly later by a male voice first complaining, and then begging for respite, and then finally bawling. It was clearly the man they had just seen go in.

Louder than that spanking, a new sound filled the waiting room. It was a “POP”, followed by a shrill feminine scream. The ladies looked at each other big-eyed as they heard a second “POP” and a second scream. The sounds of two different punishments continued, the man's spanking overlaid with the sounds of some poor lady being paddled or strapped.

Then Drew remembered the public defender admitting that she was probably in for something “worse” than a spanking. Hearing that sound, Drew glumly saw into her own painful future.

This waiting room was worse than any Principal's office that Drew could imagine! No dummy, she quickly guessed that the lack of soundproofing was deliberate. She noted that there wasn't even a door in the doorway to the hallway. Obviously, part of her “punishment” was to listen to the punishments of others. Also, she noted that it was already well past her own appointment time. Wisely, she guessed that delay and anticipation were deliberate parts of her experience here.

Over the next twenty minutes, the other two ladies were taken away individually. While she had been waiting, nobody else reported for punishment. She assumed that was because she had the last appointment of the day. She was just listening to the beginning of somebody's spanking when a uniformed man arrived and called her name.


She had expected some sort of ape, but this man turned out to be distinctly handsome. Like herself, he appeared to be in his late twenties. Like all of the staff here, (excepting the desk-lady) he was wide-shouldered and well built, obviously someone who spent time in gyms. Surprisingly, he had a friendly face, with curly blond hair and laugh-lines around his eyes. His grin was framed below by a square chin, and above by a rather broad nose, which helped to balance his body's bulk.

He crooked a finger at her, “Bring your bag.” Correctly confident that Drew would follow, he turned and left the room without glancing back. He led her down that long hallway to a doorway, apparently his office. As she walked, she noticed that none of the hall's doorways had doors. Inside one room, she caught a brief sight of the man from the waiting room. He was naked now, and looked far more unhappy than before. As she paused, one the ladies from the waiting room was escorted past her in the hallway. She was naked, red-bottomed, and sobbing.

Drew gulped and then followed her man into his office. He sat behind a desk, and held out his hand, “I must verify your wrist band.” Drew nearly swooned as he took her hand. Not noticing, he checked her wrist band against her folder.

“Now that we know that's really you,” he said, “kindly finish undressing, except for your socks.” At first, engrossed in her file, he didn't even look up. But then he peeked and noticed that she hadn't moved. “Really Miss...(he checked the file) Randall. I'm a professional. I see naked people all day. Just obey.”

Unwillingly, Drew obeyed, first removing her bra, and then her brief panties. She stuffed them into her mesh bag with her other things. And then she looked around the room. There was a sturdy chair in front of the desk, but the man pointedly hadn't invited her to sit. So she stood awkwardly, hands covering her breasts and shaved groin.

“There!” he enthused, “That wasn't so bad, was it?” He held out his hand across the desk, “There's no reason for us to be enemies. My name is Rod Peterson. My job title is 'Special Sentencing Administrator', but everyone just calls us 'SSAs'.”

Drew reluctantly exposed her groin so that she could shake the man's hand.

Rod Peterson had worked in the “SS Unit” since its establishment two years ago. Besides Rod, there were three other SSAs working there. Two SSAs were female, but they shared the load of “clients” without regard to gender. Since women requested Special Sentencing more often than men, most of the “clients” that Rod punished were female. Rod always claimed that all clients were the same to him, male or female. Long inured to nudity, every client was just another bare bottom for him to punish, regardless of gender.

But looking at Drew, he knew inwardly that wasn't strictly true. Drew was different. Frankly, most women (and all men) that Rod punished looked better to him dressed than naked. Drew was different. Clothed or unclothed, Drew was a beautiful woman. More than beauty, there was a light in her eyes that told him that here was a personality worth knowing. He had pretended to look at her file while she was removing her undies, but he had actually peeked several times. He liked what he saw!

Judging by the tiny sheer panties she had been wearing, the SS Unit hadn't been in Drew's plans when she had dressed this morning. They were so sheer and tight that he could see that she shaved “down there”.

Now, with his hand held out to shake her hand, Rod was wishing that he had some other job. Rod feared that once he had done his job, spanked and then whipped this beautiful woman, she wouldn't want anything to do with him.


As Drew touched Rod's hand to accept his handshake, she again almost swooned. What was it about this man?

With honest regret he spoke, “Please don't cover yourself. That's the Unit's rule, not mine. We never know when we are being watched. For your information, everything here is caught on video. It's recorded for your protection and mine. Also, that's why there are no doors in the Unit. Nobody here is ever behind a closed door. Understand?”

She nodded, wondering if he could have convinced her to take off her panties had she known that sooner.

He continued, “You have been convicted of both speeding and resisting arrest.” He pointed to the chair, “For speeding, I will spank you right here. After your spanking, we will go to a larger punishment room. There I will punish you for resisting arrest. Understand?”

“What…,” She asked nervously, “What will that punishment be?”

He locked eyes with her “Do you really want to know? Just know that it will hurt like hell for a few minutes and then you will be released to go home.”

She spoke miserably, “You have a point.”

He snapped on blue nitrile gloves and then displayed a modest paddle, “To prevent hand injury, we don't spank by hand. This paddle replicates the feeling of being spanked by hand. It doesn't look impressive, but it will sting your bottom like hellfire, yet it rarely causes bruising. We use it for everybody.”

With that, and hoping that his erection wasn't obvious, he purposely walked around to the front of his desk and sat in the empty seat. He patted his lap and spoke in a formal voice, “Miss Randall, this is your punishment for speeding. Kindly lay across my lap so we can begin.”

Her mind wrapped in a protective gauze of denial, Drew obediently laid herself across the proffered lap. Her mind abuzz, Drew was both afraid of her coming spanking, and awed to find herself naked and vulnerable to this sexy man.

Rod struggled with a moral challenge. Doing his job properly would likely kill any chances he had with this desirable woman, but going easy on her would be cheating. In the end, Rod's morals and his work ethic won out. Drew would receive full punishments. The fact that the open design of the facility, along with the video surveillance, left him with little choice didn't enter into his decision.

So Rod delivered an ordinary spanking to an extraordinary bottom. Being a professional, he wasted no time. He wasted no time in delay, nor did he waste time with “warm up” spanks. Instead, he started with hard swats right to the most prominent parts of Drew's nether regions. Almost immediately, Drew's screeches, wails, entreaties, and flat-out bawling easily escaped through the open doorway of Rod's office, where they resonated up and down the hallway and filled the waiting room. There they sounded much like every other spanking at the SS Unit that day. That the waiting room was empty, (Drew had the last appointment) was no consolation to poor Drew. At least, it was no consolation just then because her brain was occupied with more urgent issues.

Poor Drew twisted and bucked as Rod professionally spanked her firm buttocks to bright red. He allowed her legs free movement. Those kicking legs opened new nooks and crannies for him to spank, while also providing moving targets that he found interesting and sporting. Perhaps more importantly, her unrestrained antics gave him tantalizing winks of her most intimate anatomy. With most clients that he spanked, he didn't bother noticing these details, but Drew was no normal client!

It wasn't a long spanking, with Rod it didn't need to be. When he was finally done, Drew was bright red from the tops of her buttocks nearly down to the hollows of her knees. Just before finishing, he deftly restrained her legs with his right leg so he could properly apply the last spanks. By now, Drew was exhausted and breathless.

Finally done, he laid the paddle down and held her in place as she bawled. Rod rarely had any desire to hold and comfort a stricken client, but now found the impulse almost irresistible. In deference to the video cameras, he resisted.

He held her down across his lap until she had caught her breath and her bawling had decayed to mere sobs. Then he reluctantly helped her to her feet.


He was tapped into the video surveillance system. In his private office, his computer screen revealed the scene as it unfolded in Rod's office. He had enjoyed watching Drew's final unveiling and her spanking, but was especially anticipating Drew's next punishment and the advantageous camera angle that he knew he would enjoy.

Unlike Rod's office, his had a door, which was firmly locked.

His zipper was open, his erection exposed.

Perhaps the Public Defender was really the principled man that he appeared to be. Perhaps he truly did believe that the Special Sentencing Program was the best deal for Drew. But had she seen him leering at her image on the video screen, she might have questioned his motivations!


As Rod helped the still sobbing red-bottomed Drew to her feet, he urgently mumbled advice into her ear. This was advice that he rarely offered clients, but he rationalized that he wasn't actually prohibited from doing so, “You're allowed up to fifteen minutes between punishments. Most people use that time to rub feeling back into their bottoms, to their later regret. You would be smart to ask to finish your punishment right now.”

It took time for Drew to process that advice, but she was no dummy. Although a delay sounded tempting, she understood that Rod had just done her a favor.

She sobbed her way through the required words, “Sir, please, let's do it now.”

“Pick up your bag and follow me,” Rod replied. Painfully, Drew recovered her bag. Her file folder in one hand, Rod took her by the arm to lead her out into the hallway.

He led her into a much larger room three doorways down. This room was dominated by an odd device, looking like a fancy sawhorse.

As he led her to it, he explained, “We would be done now if you hadn't resisted arrest. Never do that again!”

“Yes Sir,” Drew responded.

He urged her close to the device. Her bare belly almost touched a padded rail, “Spread your feet wide!”

He turned a crank, lowering the top rail to suit her diminutive frame, “OK, drop your bag and then bend right over.”

He adjusted her carefully until her bright red bottom was at just the right angle, Then he turned the crank again, raising the bar until her feet left the ground. Then he fastened a wide strap at the small of her back, and smaller straps on her legs that held her thighs apart.

That tantalizing female anatomy that had only winked at him before, now yawned open to his view.

Over his head, Rod heard a tiny whirring sound, the sound of someone adjusting the mechanical zoom lens on the video camera by remote control. Obviously Drew's body had attracted attention from somebody with access to the surveillance system. Rod felt jealous, but was powerless to do anything about it.

The “horse” (as she would later learn it was called) wasn't as uncomfortable as it looked. It had a wide padded top to support her upper body, and even a pad for her head. He fastened her wrists, completing her restraint.

As he knelt by her head, he displayed a leather strap in his gloved hands. His voice sounded regretful, “I'm required to show you this. For the crime of resisting arrest, I am about to whip you with it.”

She couldn't stop herself from asking, “H-h-how many?”

“It's not to your advantage to know,” was his only reply.

And then he positioned himself behind her, raised the strap high, and let fly.

“POP!” The report filled the room, followed by Drew's shrill scream. Grimly, Rod continued his job. His aim was perfect. He always targeted just one side at a time, never simply strapping both sides together. Even when restrained with scientifically engineered straps, the wriggling and clenching antics of a properly motivated bottom under punishment never ceased to amaze Rod. Drew's bottom was certainly no exception. As with Drew's spanking, Rod completed his job without delay, but he didn't stop until he had given her a full measure of punishment.

By the time it was over Drew had screamed herself hoarse. In fact, later her throat would hurt almost as badly as her bottom.

Tenderly, Rod unstrapped the stricken woman and helped her up. He carried her bag, and supported her as she limped out into the hallway, and then through another doorway marked “Release Room”.

Rod left Drew in the care of a nurse and an aide. He spoke gently, “Goodbye Miss Randall. You took your punishment well, I hope you learned a lesson.”

The nurse documented the condition of Drew's bottom. As always, she was impressed with the thoroughness and precision of Rod's work. This client would sport bruises, yet no skin was broken. A perfectly professional job!

The nurse did nothing else. The Unit never dispensed painkillers or creams. The aide helped Drew dress. As soon as Drew was judged to be sufficiently steady on her feet, she was released. She climbed a back stairway, and exited through the back door of the courthouse, a free woman!


Then Drew realized that she had no way home. Poor as always, she couldn't even afford a taxi. She had decided that her only option was to limp home when Rod emerged from the same door, happily swinging his lunchbox. Seeing Drew, he took a chance, “Miss Randall, do you need a ride?”

Rod expected rejection, and he wouldn't have blamed Drew for doing so. Instead, she happily accepted.

As they drove off, Rod started to apologize, but Drew stopped him, “Look. I asked for the Special Sentencing Program and was lucky to get it. It saved my job. You were just doing your job, so no hard feelings.”

Rod drew a sigh of relief.

Drew asked, “How often do you drive people home after punishing their bare bottoms?”

Rod had a ready answer, “In two years on the job, you're my first.”

“In that case” she responded, “Thank you Mr. Peterson.”

“Rod,” he said, “Please call me Rod.”

“In that case Rod, my name is Drew.”

His friendly grin gave her the courage to ask, “You saw my file so you know that I'm unattached. What about you?”

His answer was simple, “Just like you.”

By now, Drew was noticing an unexpected effect of her punishment, an itch and dampness in a place not terribly far from her bottom. Likely, her unexpected proximity to the man of her dreams had amplified the effect, which was now more urgent than the pain of her bottom.

So she took another chance, “Rod, is anyone waiting for you at home tonight?”

“No,” he said, “I live alone.”

Shocked at her own audacity, Drew asked, “Then may I suggest a couple detours on the way to my apartment?”

“What would that be?”

“Well first, stop by your place for your toothbrush and whatever clothes you will need in the morning. And then, let's buy a pizza on the way to my apartment. You can figure out the rest for yourself”

His grin widened, “Yes, that sounds awesome!”

Drew smiled in return.

Never before had making such a terrible choice turned out so well for Drew.

© Guyspencer 2015


Anonymous Anonymous said...

It is hard to say who is luckier - Rod or Drew. May Drew's next whipping lead her to more joyous screams. Would it be that same night?

3:19 PM, November 14, 2015  
Blogger Dwest said...

It seems like a good blistering for a good reason done by a caring person always brings about good changes.

10:32 PM, December 01, 2015  
Blogger paul said...

i Agree with above comment a soundly spanked/caned bare bottom will bring about good changes thats the point of proper disipline been there !

2:49 AM, March 01, 2016  

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