Chapter 37.  The Perjurer and the Prostitute

One thing I was discovering on this occasion of attending my first Public Whipping was that attending such events was going to be one of the less pleasant duties of my new job as a Public Advocate.  There was a certain satisfaction in seeing evil people punished, but this was more than offset in my mind by the sheer brutality of the procedures.   But everyone is different in this regard.  Bill had told me that he often found these events quite enjoyable, though it was more the humiliation aspects than the infliction of pain that he enjoyed.  Jeremy, my fellow advocate and companion for the evening, told me he found these events hard to stomach at first, but that he had gradually come to take them in stride.

Eventually the intermission came to an end and we all filed back into the auditorium.  Soon the stage lights came up and there was Jason ready to get the show started.

“Folks, are you ready for our final victim of the night?”

The audience broke into rhythmic clapping to show its readiness.  When it finally died down Jason called out to two of his assistants.

“Bring out our next victim!”

Two of the female assistants then went to Sally and drew her arms behind her back, bending the elbows each at a right angle so the forearms would be horizontal and could be strapped to each other, right hand to left elbow and left hand to right elbow.  This denied her the possibility of using her arms in self-defense and also assured that the arms would stay well above her waist and present no interference with strikes to the buttocks.  They then marched her to the front edge of the stage.

“Audience, I would like you all to meet Miss Sally Rigers, convicted perjurer and slave.  For many years she was head teller at Leland Bank and Trust, a now defunct institution.  Some of you may have had accounts at that bank and had occasion to do business with Miss Rigers when she was head teller at the bank.  Later she was an accounting supervisor who worked under Tom Jenkins at Masterson Automotive.”

“At this point, to understand Miss Rigers’ crime, I would like you all to meet Mr. Edgar Miller.  We all have Edgar to thank for the entertainment Ms. Rigers is going to supply us today.  Edgar is an economist who had a good job at that bank until Ms. Rigers gave perjured testimony that got Edgar enslaved.  He is free now and has won a criminal case against Ms. Rigers for which he was able to sentence her to public whippings.  So let’s all give Edgar a round of applause!”

“Way to go Edgar!” someone shouted, and many applauded.

“Now do I have a volunteer”, the Whip Master announced, “to initiate the punishment of this young woman?”

Three hands went up – one woman and two men.

“Does one of you have some personal or professional connection to Ms. Rigers?” Jason asked.

One of the two men who had raised their hands shouted that he did and was invited to come up on the stage.  He wore no mask.  The other two volunteers looked disappointed and sat down.  When the volunteer was on the stage near Jason he thrust the microphone to him and asked his next question.

“I won’t ask your name sir, but I would appreciate it if you would tell everyone what is your connection to our victim sir?”

I once worked at Leland Bank and Trust when Ms. Rigers was head teller there.  She was my boss and she fired me to give my job to one of her friends.  I hated her then and now.”

“Why then I think you might be an ideal candidate to pull down her pants and give her a good whack on her bare ass!”

“You may begin.  We are all eager to see what charms Ms. Rigers can offer us today!  Please stand to one side of her as you strip her so the audience will have a full view of what you are doing!”

The volunteer, being right handed, took up a position to Sally’s left and somewhat behind her.  From this position he could reach around her from behind, while facing the audience, and reach the buckle of her belt and unzip the zipper of her jeans.  Soon he was inching her jeans down while the crowd clapped rhythmically.   One of the female assistants was holding both of Sally’s ankles – probably so that she could not kick out at the volunteer.  

When he had bared her thighs he stopped to admire his work.  Some in the audience whistled at the sight of such an attractive slender pair of thighs, and at the light muscular definition of those thighs.  Others were focusing on the tight fitting panties that perfectly outlined her sex, displaying a neat camel’s toe.  The volunteer was still somewhat behind Sally so he didn’t see the camel’s toe but he did cop a feel of those thighs from his position.  Then he continued to lower the jeans until they were all bunched up at her ankles.  The female assistant raised first one leg and then the other so that he could pull the jeans off her altogether.

He then reached up from behind Sally and hooked his right and left thumbs in the waistband of her panties.  He hesitated and turned to the audience for direction.

“Should I?”  he said.

Of course the response shouted from a dozen seats was “hell yes”.  He never was in any doubt about proceeding but apparently just wanted to ham it up a bit.  

He began inching her panties down until the pubic hair on her mound was visible.  He dramatically paused.  The audience was now clapping rhythmically again to encourage him to continue.  The panties were inched down a bit further until everyone could see the top of her vulva.  Again he paused for emphasis.  Then the panties were pulled down to mid thigh with one quick motion.  Sally gasped.  Many in the audience whistled, liking what they saw, for Sally had a generous amount of dark pubic hair framing her vulva, yet not concealing it.  Spectators glanced back and forth between looking at the action on stage and looking at their in seat monitors where they could view a close-up of Sally’s vulva.  I turned my monitor on as I was curious what all the whistling was about and I wanted to see if Sally’s privates were prettier than my own.  Edgar drew out a pair of scissors and cut the panties off her.  

At a gesture from the Whip Master, two of the female assistants drew her ankles about three feet apart and secured her ankles to rings in the floor.  This was both to improve the display of her privates and also to immobilize her so she couldn’t kick out when the volunteer would deliver the opening blow to her ass.   Like so many women who are slender and have good muscular definition she showed cute little indentations on the sides of her well rounded buttocks.

“Now, if you are ready sir, you may use this paddle”.

He handed him the same ceremonial oak paddle that had been used for the opening swat to the other victims.  He took the paddle and took a practice swat at a nearby padded post provided for that purpose.  Sally remained facing the audience in a standing position with her feet tethered and one of the assistants steadying her upper body.  She remained in this position because the audience would enjoy watching her face, seeing her fear and her pain.  

The volunteer stepped up behind Sally who was now trembling.   He drew his arm way back while twisting his torso and delivered a blow with the full force of his arms, shoulder and body.  It whistled through the air and made a very loud sound when it connected with her buttocks.  Sally cried out with the pain of it and tears began to run down her face.  The audience was eating up every detail of this.  Then the Whip Master turned Sally around so the audience could see that Sally’s entire buttocks were now pink and inflamed.

“Thank you sir.  You have done your job.  Now let’s have a round of applause for our volunteer!”

The audience cheered at the top of their lungs as he found his way back from the stage and took his seat next to me.  Jason turned to the same generator cart that had been used with the two previous victims and again flipped switches so that we could all hear the whir of the generator starting up once again.  The Whip Master pulled the evil looking whip off the cart and he was ready to go once more.  

Sally was left with her back to audience for what was coming next.  She had earlier been stripped from the waist down but still had her white t-shirt on.  Jason took out his pocketknife and cut the t-shirt off.  Then he unfastened her arms that had been tied behind her back and secured her hands instead above her head to lines he had dropped from above the stage. Her back was now fully bared.  

The Whip Master then stepped to one side of her with his whip.  He drew his arm way back then brought the electrical whip forward until it struck Sally’s upper back.  The audience gasped to see blue sparks jump and the intricate dance of all the muscles in her back.  She let out a piercing cry and begged for mercy. There would be none.  He drew back his arm again, this time landing the electrical whip on her buttocks.  Again the audience saw the blue sparks and was treated to see all the muscles in her buttocks contract and ripple.  The third blow was to her thighs and the audience enjoyed watching her hamstring muscles violently contract and ripple.  

The fourth blow rained down on the top of a slender arm and delicate shoulder causing these muscles to ripple and cramp.  The fifth blow was to the backs of her knees.  As her legs gave way she found that she could no longer stand, and hung suspended by her arms.  For the fifth he spun her around so that she again faced the audience.  The audience was seeing her lovely breasts for the first time and was impressed with their size, shape and firmness and by her compact areolas and pert nipples.  Jason then rained the blow down across the fronts of her thighs.  The audience saw the quadriceps muscles ripple and cramp.  Then he laid the electric whip across her sensitive breasts and nipples.  She cried out that the pain was more than she could bear.  

“What do you want from me?”  she cried.  “I will say or do anything you want if only you make the pain stop!”

Jason walked over to her and put a pair of earphones on her head.

“The earphones I put on her”, Jason explained to the audience, “are playing loud music so she can’t hear what I am about to say to you.   Notice that she complains she can’t take any more pain but she has had no more blows than I gave the others.  The difference is that she is under the influence of pain enhancing drugs.  Now I will compound her stress by adding an explicitly sexual element.

Jason then turned a dial way down on the control panel.

“I have greatly reduced the voltage and current”, Jason explained, “for my next stroke since the purpose of this one will not be to cause pain but to cause sexual humiliation.”

The sixth stroke was gently applied to her genitals.  We could still see blue sparks though they were much smaller than before.  She gave a small cry and jumped a little.

“I suppose this is legal too?  The same way Duncan’s homosexual rape was legal?”

“Exactly so.”

Jason repeated this gentle stimulation of her genitals several more times letting just the tip of the whip tease her labia.  Each time she gave a small cry and her pelvis jerked back momentarily, then jerked forward in an obscene fucking motion.  Her nipples became hard.  At last his efforts were rewarded.  She gave an excited out of breath cry and the audience could see juices running from her vulva down her inner thigh.  Jason took the tip of his whip with the current turned off and gently teased the labia apart so that all might see the stickiness within

We have just about got her to the point we want her.  What we are after is a pain triggered sexual-psychotic break.  But to put her into that state I will need to apply some more pain.  We want to temporarily annihilate her personality so that she loses her grip on reality and begins to have delusions.  Then she becomes highly suggestible and we can have some fun with her.  ”

At this point Public Advocate Roger Stinson rose to his feet, picked up the microphone that had been provided for him and made an announcement over the public address system.

“I must call a halt to the proceedings”, Stinson announced, “until I am satisfied that a risk assessment has been done and that no permanent harm will be done to the slave!” 

There could be heard a few groans, muffled conversations and grumbling.   

“I understand your concern Mr. Stinson.  I assure you that this will be a temporary state from which she will fully return to normal in a few hours.   If you will type in the words ‘sexual-psychotic break’ on your in seat computer, you will see a summary of all the precautions we have taken to protect the mental health of our subject tonight.  Take a moment to scroll through that and then tell me if we haven’t done enough to protect Ms. Rigers.”

Stinson did spend what seemed like ten minutes reviewing this material before making a decision.  While he was doing this many in the audience were starting to grow restless.  At last he spoke again over the public address system.

“I have seen enough to know adequate precautions were taken.  I am granting permission for you to proceed with your show as intended.”

“Thank you sir.   We appreciate your professionalism.  I want everyone to understand that what you will see will resemble a hypnotic trance but it is not that but the symptoms of a psychotic break with reality.”
 
He began to lash her again and again with the electric whip.  Breasts, then shoulders, then thighs then calves, then one right across her lower belly just above her pubic hair.  The audience saw the muscles of her abdomen spasm and this time Sally disgraced herself.  Jason quickly stepped out of the way so that the audience might see the urine running out of her vulva and trickling down her slender thighs.  Many whistled again to show their appreciation of the show they were seeing.  

Sally began to shriek at the top of her lungs and continued shrieking for what seemed like ten minutes.  Then she broke down sobbing without letup.  At this point Jason freed Sally’s wrists from the overhead restraints.  She curled up into a ball.  Jason let this go on for a while.

“Now I will ask you all to be very quiet when I take the earphones off her to help me set up her delusion.”

Jason now removed the earphones so that she could hear everything that would follow.  

“Sally do you know where you are?”  Jason asked.

“I don’t know.  You tell me where I am”, she replied.

“Sally you are in your parent’s home.  You are in your bedroom.  You are 12 years old.  It is after midnight and very quiet in your house.   All you can hear is the sound of the wind blowing through the trees.  You are waiting for your father to come to your room.  Sally, do you understand where you are?”

“I am in my parent’s home”, Sally replied.  “I am in my bedroom.”

“Sally you will find that you are strong enough to stand now and you want to stand.”

She slowly uncurled from the ball she had been in and shakily got to her feet facing the audience.

“How old are you, Sally?”

“I am 12 years old.”

“What are you doing in your bedroom?”

“I am waiting for my father to come to my room.”

“Sally you feel some sensation on your legs.  You will reach down now and touch your legs.  What do you feel?”

“I feel wetness.”

“Check your panties.  Do they feel wet also?”

Sally’s hand reached down to her crotch as though to check her panties, though she wasn’t, in fact, wearing any.

“Yes, they feel wet.”

“Why are you waiting for your father?”

“Because he has to check if I have soiled myself.”

“What will he do if he finds your legs and your panties wet?”

He will punish me hard with a paddle on my bare butt.

“Does your father ever do other things … sexual things with you?”

“Sometimes yes”.

“How do you feel about that?”

“It gets me hot.  It is very exciting!”
“Does it make you want to touch yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you do that now?   Nobody is watching you.  You have some private moments before your father comes up the stairs.”

Ms. Rigers two hands slowly went down to her waist.  She used her two hands as if she were inching her imaginary panties down.  Then her right hand began to play with her vulva.

“Sally you hear the stairs creaking as your father climbs up to your room.”

“Yes, I hear him coming.  I stop playing with myself because I don’t want him to catch me.”

“Sally, I am your father and I am in your room now.  What do I see?”

“You see me standing facing you with my panties pushed down to my knees.”

“Yes, I can see you have wet your panties and I can see the urine that has run down your legs.  I also smell your arousal.   I walk over to you and cup your vulva with my right hand and feel the slipperiness.  I raise my hand to my nose and smell your juices.”

As he said this Jason did, in fact, walk over to Sally, cup her vulva, then raise his hand to his nose and smell the odor.

“Sally, how many times have I told you what would happen if you wet yourself?”

“Many times father.”

“And how many times have I told you not to play with yourself?”

“Many times father.”

“You know what must happen now, don’t you?”

“I must be punished.”

Jason snapped his fingers and the two female assistants rolled out a narrow bed.

“You are to lie face down over that bed with your ass elevated.”

She did as commanded and Jason picked up the electric whip once more and laid a whole series of slashes across her buttocks.  She twisted and writhed and cried out with the pain of each stroke as the audience saw all her muscles in play.

“Do you think you have been punished enough?”

“Yes father.”

“How do I usually show you that I still love you after a hard punishment like that?”

“You stick your penis in me.”

“Yes Sally.  And that is what I will do now.  Lie face up on your bed.”

Sally did as commanded and Jason had two lines dropped from above so that he could elevate and separate Sally’s legs.  He turned the bed at 45 degrees to the audience.  He removed his black spandex codpiece.   He stroked himself a few times until he had a hard erection.  Then he hovered over Sally and positioned his penis at her gateway and pushed in.

“How does this make you feel Sally?”

“It makes me feel loved father.  It feels really good!”

“Show me how good it feels.”

Sally began bucking and giving Jason a fine ride.  After a period of mounting excitement he pulled out and shot a stream of his semen all over her belly.  He got up, unfastened Sally’s ankles from the overhead lines, put his codpiece back on, and gestured for the audience to maintain their silence.   He signaled for the stage lights to be dimmed somewhat and the house lights to be brought up.

“Sally do you know where you are?”

“I am in my bedroom in my parent’s home and you are my father.”

“No Sally.  You are not in your bedroom.  I am not your father.  You are on a stage with 100 people watching you!  Go ahead, look out there and see all those people who have been watching you!”

“What am I doing on a stage?  I am only 12 years old!”

“No Sally.  You are not 12 years old.  You are a 32-year old woman.  You just had sexual intercourse in front of all those people out there.  You had sex with your father in front of all those people.  Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know.  Why did I do that?”

“Because I told you to and you always do what I say.  Now aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

“I am ashamed.  I am so ashamed.”

Sally’s face was red.   She again curled up into a ball, began to suck her thumb and was crying like a baby.  This went on for what seemed like ten minutes.  Then Sally was crying hysterically and the audience loved that too. 

“Perhaps the young lady has had enough.  Attendants, please carry her off.”

The two female attendants came forward with a stretcher, placed Sally on it, and gently carried her offstage.

“That concludes our show for this evening”, Jason announced.    As you make your way out through the lobby remember that we do have representatives on hand to take your order for photos and videos of today’s show.  These make fine gifts for your friends!  Thank you for joining us today and please come back and join us again for next month’s show!”

The stage lights dimmed, the house lights came fully up and people started heading for the exits.

Our group of public advocates made our way out into the lobby.  It seemed we all had prisoners we needed to check up on.  For Barbara Fox it was the two male victims punished earlier.  For Roger Stinson it was Sally Rigers.  My own need was to again visit Rachel in the preparation area just prior to her upcoming private punishment.  We stopped at the box office and a staff person was dispatched to take Fox and Stinson to the recovery area and to again take us to the preparation area.

Jeremy asked Stinson if we might accompany him to visit Sally before proceeding on to Rachel.

“It will be a valuable learning experience for you Stephanie” he said, “to see what goes on in the recovery area.”

The recovery area resembled the preparation area in that it was organized into a number of curtained off cubicles.  We came to one where a naked Sally lay strapped to a gurney, her body perspiring heavily and trembling from head to foot.  A heart monitor was attached to her and I could see that her pulse was racing and her blood pressure elevated.  She seemed to be staring off in the distance with fixed pupils and not aware of any of us.  A nurse had hooked up an IV line with a saline drip and was using that to also give her a medication.

“Hello Mr. Stinson”, the nurse said.  “We haven’t been able to talk to her yet.  I am just giving her a cocktail to help bring her down from her agitated state.  It is a mixture of Traumatholin and a tranquilizer.  Our doctor says it is important that she be able to remember her punishment in the days to come but also important that the traumatic aspects of her punishment not imprint on the part of her memory that would cause post traumatic stress syndrome.  She needs to retain her sanity and her ability to function.”

“Very good nurse.  I want you to get a sheet to cover her as soon as you can.”

“Yes sir, we don’t bother about the modesty of these prisoners, but if that is what you want sir?”

“That is what I want.”

Mr. Stinson then began to feel Sally’s arm muscles and then her leg muscles.  He kneaded and deep massaged her limbs and evoked a small cry of pain from the young woman.  By now the nurse had returned with a sheet which she draped over Sally.

“Nurse, her muscles are all bound up in knots from the electric whipping.  I want her to have a muscle relaxant and an anti-inflammatory.  If you need to check that with your doctor I will wait here while you do that.”

“Sally – can you hear me?” Stinson called out.

At first we heard only a muffled groan from Sally.  Stinson squeezed her hand very firmly and repeated his question.

“Who – who are you?  she replied in a faint voice.

“I am Roger Stinson, your court appointed Public Advocate.  I am here to make sure they are treating you all right as you recover from your punishment.  I am on your side Sally.”

“All my muscles hurt so bad!  I don’t think I can move anything without screaming!”

“I know Sally”, Stinson replied, “We are going to do something about that very soon.”

Just then the nurse returned with a signed order from the doctor

“Doctor says I can give the two drugs you requested Mr. Stinson.”

She injected a vial of first one of the drugs and then the other into the fitting on the IV drip line.  Sally’s muscles began to relax almost immediately.

“Try to move one of your arms now Sally.”

We saw her tentatively move an arm and then raise one of her legs a short distance above the gurney.

“Everything is sore Mr. Stinson, but it doesn’t hurt too much to move now!”

“There is one other thing I need to check Sally, since you were raped on stage.”

Stinson whipped out a sterilizing towelette from his pocket and thoroughly washed all the fingers of one hand.  Then he peeled back the sheet and inserted two fingers in Sally’s vagina.

“I will go slow.  You tell me if this hurts.”

“It is a little sore sir, but not too bad.  Jason used quite a bit of lubricant.”

After a moment Stinson seemed satisfied, pulled his two fingers out and washed them off with another towelette.

“I am impressed Mr. Stinson!” I said.  “Are you a doctor as well as an advocate?”

“Hardly!  I just took a college course called “Slave Medicine 101”.  They teach students how to perform the most basic physical exam and diagnose some of the most common problems that may result from corporal punishments.”

I could see that Sally was in good hands and I needed to be sure and check in with Rachel before the after show got started in Room B210.  So Jeremy and I made our excuses and proceeded on to the preparation area.  This time we again found Mr. Morrison present in Rachel’s cubicle but he was standing next to a seated and clothed Rachel.  Rachel was smiling this time.  Her friend Don from high school was with her with his arm around her shoulders in a gesture of support.  Her outfit was somewhat shocking – probably what she had been wearing at the time of her arrest.  Her black skin provided a striking contrast to the garish clothing she wore.  She had on a pink wig, a sleeveless black belly-baring top, pink short shorts, fishnet stockings and high heels!

“Greetings again Miss. Glenn“, Morrison said with a broad smile.   We meet this time under happier circumstances!   It seems two new orders have come from the Court.  One is concerning Rachel and is the reason you see her sitting in a chair and not strapped to a gurney.  It seems the Administrative Tribunal has vacated her convictions on two of the three charges.  The only conviction they let stand was the one for wearing inappropriate attire in an upscale part of the city.  That is a very minor misdemeanor, and they have vacated the original sentence and substituted a new one calling for only a mild humiliation.”

“That is good news indeed!” I said.  “But what about that pain enhancing drug you gave her earlier this evening?”

“Don’t worry about that”, Morrison replied.  “We have already given her the antidote”.

“Why did they acquit her of the two felony charges?”  Jeremy inquired.

“It seems a freshman girl finally came forward”, her friend Don responded, “who had heard Bart’s blackmail threat.  She had been afraid to get involved originally but her conscience bothered her.  She went to the Public Prosecutor.  Bart was called in and confronted with the evidence against him whereupon he broke down and cried and confessed he had indeed blackmailed Rachel and that he had lied about it under oath in his sworn statement earlier!”

“What is the prosecutor going to do about that?”  Jeremy asked.

“Blackmail and perjury are both very serious felonies”, Don continued, “and the prosecutor was prepared to try Bart as an adult – with the possibility he could be enslaved for up to ten years!  Bart’s lawyer negotiated a plea bargain for him to avoid a trial.  The upshot is Bart will become a chattel slave for two years and he has to undergo a ‘Level Two Enhanced Whipping’  - which is to be administered tonight!”

“Rachel, does that help to take the sting out of what you have been through?”  I asked.

“Well, it can’t hurt”, Rachel admitted.

“I suppose this is not such good news for you, is it Mr. Morrison?  I mean after all you sent out invitations promising your 100 guests they would see a 16-year old girl receive a very intense whipping.”

“I will survive Miss Glenn.  Actually I think my guests won’t be too disappointed since they will see a 16-year old boy receive the exact same intense punishment that Rachel was to have received!”

“Excuse me, but is Bart here being prepared?” Rachel asked eagerly.  “Can Don and I see him being prepared for his whipping please?”

“Can they?” I asked.  “I mean it seems only fair after what that jerk has put her through!”

“Well I guess we can do that”, Morrison replied.  “If you four will follow me over to the other side we will look in on Bart’s cubicle.”

When we got there we saw a very naked Bart Jackson completely strapped down on a gurney with an IV running into him.  He looked very scared.  Rachel burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny Rach?”  I asked.

“It’s his balls!  They are so small!  And his penis is so shriveled up!  And its so much fun to see the son-of-a-bitch tied down to a gurney!”

“Just wait till I get you, bitch!” Bart screamed.

“I take it the IV is a drug to intensify his experiences of humiliation, fear and pain”, I said.

“Quite so Miss Glenn”, Morrison replied.  “He is in for quite a ride tonight.  Probably will be blubbering like a baby before the night is over.”

When Rachel had seen enough the four of us returned to her cubicle to talk.  Don spoke first.

“Rach, when they take you upstairs for their ‘show’ maybe it would be best if I just waited for you down here.  I am not sure you would want me to witness your humiliation before all those people!”

“No Don”, Rachel responded.  “I want you to go upstairs and watch the show – watch whatever it is they are going to do to me.  It will help me to know that I have friends in the audience – instead of looking out at a sea of sadistic faces!  That way we can talk afterward and you will be able to help me to get through the aftermath of that experience.”

“OK - I will go upstairs and watch the show – if you are sure that is what you want me to do?”

“I’m sure Don”, Rachel replied.

I think Jeremy and I need to get back upstairs now.  We will come back to see you in the recovery area after the show.”
As the crowd in the lobby began to thin out, Jeremy and I quietly made our way to the much smaller Auditorium B-201 on the second floor.  A small percentage of the spectators from the large auditorium had also made their way here until I estimated there were about 100 of us waiting for this more private show to start.  

This hall was too small to have private sky booths, but I noted that it had something else instead.  The seats were very comfortable and well spaced apart and there was more than typical space between the rows of seats.  Each row of seats was also on a riser that raised the floor under the seats about 18 inches above the level of the floor just in front of the seats, creating a kind of trench in front of all seats.  Along with this there were privacy partitions between every two seats that came up to about shoulder height.  I noted also that there were small trap doors in the floor in front of every third seat.  I saw a girl crawling up from the basement through one of these traps to service a man a few seats down from where Jeremy and I were sitting.  Once she got down to business what she was doing was completely hidden by the partitions on either side of her customer.

“What’s all this about?” I asked Jeremy.

“It’s so the prostitutes can find their customers without disturbing other patrons and the customer can enjoy his blowjob in something that half way approaches privacy.”

There was an atmosphere of eager expectancy.  Just before the show got underway we noticed Don had slipped in and taken a seat at the end of the fourth row.  

The houselights then dimmed and Jason took the stage and made this announcement.

“When we sent you folks your invitations to this special performance we promised to show you a ‘Level Two Enhanced Whipping’ of a 16-year old schoolgirl/prostitute.  Well, I have some bad news but also good news.  Just an hour ago we received papers from the Court that the girl’s most serious charges have been vacated and that she is now sentenced to only a ceremonial paddling for a very minor misdemeanor.”

There were groans of disappointment at this news.

“However we have another treat for you this evening.  It seems a 16-year old high school boy was sent to us just two hours ago with an Order from the Court that he be administered a ‘Level Two Enhanced Whipping’.  So you will get to see such a whipping inflicted on a minor after all!”

There were cheers at this news.

“But let’s begin with the girl.  She is now here only to be punished for a minor misdemeanor and we decided to present her to you exactly as she was dressed at the time of her recent arrest.  Assistants, please bring the girl on stage now.”

What the audience saw was a tall and somewhat thin black teenage girl whose dignity was evident in her face her erect posture and her bearing.  Yet she was clothed very much like a cheap whore.  Probably these were the clothes she had been arrested in while plying her trade.  Her attire was a pink wig, sleeveless off the shoulder white fur wrap that left her lightly muscled arms and dark and toned flat midriff bare, pink short shorts revealing slender but lightly muscular legs and fishnet stockings with garters and high heels.  She wore makeup suggestive of her profession and cheap jewelry.  Jason picked up the microphone to make an announcement.
 
“This girl obviously needs to be taught a lesson about appropriate attire when prostituting herself on New York’s upper east side.  Will two of my assistants bring her to the front of the stage and secure her for the initiation at this time?”

Two assistants brought her forward, stood her facing the audience, secured her wrists to an overhead line and each held one of her ankles to prevent kicking.  She was nervous even though she knew she had been spared the worst.

“Will the Court Bailiff and the Complaining Witness please come onstage?”

A uniformed guard and a fifty something gentleman now came on the stage.  The man was wearing a plain black facemask.  The guard was holding a sheaf of court papers.

“Will the Bailiff please read the charges against this girl and give us the essential facts of her case?”

“Her street name”, the Bailiff began, “is Rita, aka ‘Skinny Rita’.  I am not at liberty to reveal her real name since she is a 16-year old high school student and the Court has ordered these proceedings kept private.  She lives in East Village and is a sophomore at Wickmore High School.  She supports herself and pays her high school tuition by working as a prostitute.  She is charged with offering herself on the street in a flagrant manner for purposes of sex in a part of our city where street prostitutes are required to dress modestly and must wait to be approached by a customer.  That is a paddling offense and she has been sentenced accordingly.”  

“In view of her obvious youth, I should mention that Rita, as she prefers to be called, was legally emancipated by a Court when she was only 14, got her prostitution license that same year and is now 16.  The public spirited gentleman with me had been taking his young daughter out for a stroll when he encountered our ‘Skinny Rita’ dressed as you now see her and was solicited by her for sex in the presence of his daughter.   He was outraged that his young daughter should see such a thing when walking in one of New York’s best neighborhoods.   He realized that Rita was in violation of the law that mandates certain dress and behavior codes for girls working in that part of our city.  He found a patrol officer to place her under arrest, and then attended her trial as the complaining witness against her.  Because of his efforts Rita finds herself here today.” 

“Lets hear it for our public spirited citizen!”  Jason shouted into the microphone.  There was a spirited round of applause.

“What do you say folks?  Since he is already on stage shall we ask him to be our volunteer to prepare Rita for her paddling?”

“Yes, yes” many voices shouted.

“Do you agree sir?”

“Certainly.  I would be glad to serve.”

“We will need her pretty legs bare for the whip, so start with her fishnet stockings and her high heels.”

The old gentleman did not have to be told twice.  First he unstrapped the high heels from her feet and the assistants helped him remove them by lifting first one of her feet and then the other. It was pretty obvious he liked fondling Rita’s legs, as he seemed to take a very long time removing those fishnet stockings.  As soon as he had them rolled down and off her legs the audience could see that her legs were a beautiful very dark bronze color.  He found the zipper to her pink short shorts and worked the shorts down to her ankles.  The attendants again lifted first one of her feet and then the other so that he could get the shorts off her entirely.  He hooked his thumbs into the elastic of her panties and eased them down until some of her black and very curly pubic hair was showing.
  
“Perhaps”, Jason interjected, “you could leave our audience in suspense on the panty business for a moment and take her wig off first!”

This was done and the transformation of her appearance was startling.  It was apparent that her hair was a bleached blonde.  Her private hair obviously did not match the blonde hair on her head.  She was beginning to look a lot more like the girl next door.

The gentleman returned to teasing the audience with a very slow unveiling of her private parts.  Soon the top of her vulva was visible.  Then the panties were jerked quickly down to mid thigh with a flourish.  Though her pubic hair was dense, black and curly it was well trimmed to cover only her pubic mound and not her slit.  She had not had a bikini trim so the curly black hairs just thinned out at the outer reaches of the pubic mound and on the innermost skin of her legs where they came up against her crotch.  Her outer labia were prominent and tended to hide the not so prominent inner labia.  

Dick pulled out a pair of scissors and cut the panties off her.  Then, with his two thumbs, he pulled the outer labia apart so that all might see her inner cunt.  Cries of “way to go old man” rang out from several quarters.  Then he removed her breast halter so that all might enjoy the sight of her firm youthful breasts.  Jason picked up the microphone.

“Notice folks the distinctly darker tone of the inner labia as compared with the skin of her pubis and inner thighs.  This is a fascinating feature we so often see in women of color!  Notice also the delightful dimples we see on the sides of her well rounded buttocks.  This is a feature we often see in women this slender who are also well muscled!”

At this point Jason was handing the gentleman the ceremonial paddle.  He took a couple of practice swings then brought the full force of his torso, shoulders and arms into a whistling swing that connected loudly with the girl’s buttocks.  She let out a loud scream and jerked her pelvis forward.

There was much amusement at this.

“OK folks – I’m afraid that must conclude our punishment of the girl.  That is all her sentence allows for.  Attendants, please remove her now.  For our next entertainment we have the 16-year old high school boy I mentioned earlier.  Now his punishment is going to be a real treat!  Let’s get him out here!”

The audience saw a rather muscular boy clad in tight fitting t-shirt and jeans and looking really scared.  The two female attendants brought him right up to the front of the stage where they held his upper body firmly.  This was, of course, Bart Jackson.
  
“Now our boy here got himself into a world of trouble first by blackmailing Rita into giving him sex, and then by lying about it under oath in an affidavit to the public prosecutor.  Since both the blackmail and the perjury are felonies, the Court has ordered us to give him the maximum severity punishment.  I am sure you will all enjoy his screams today!”

At this point I knew if I stayed I would be witnessing the induction of a sexual-psychotic break similar to what I had seen done to Sally Rigers.  Since Bart was not my client and I had no particular desire to see this cruelty repeated, I suggested to Jeremy that we go back downstairs to the recovery area where they would be bringing Rachel after her ordeal.

Upon reaching that area we found curtained booths similar to what we had seen in the preparation area.  We reached Rachel’s booth and found her naked lying on a gurney but not restrained this time.  She was waiting for her clothes to be brought down from the auditorium, and feeling too emotionally drained to get up off the gurney.  Rachel was sobbing quietly.  Evidently her humiliation upstairs had left its mark on her psyche.  Her friend Don was at her side, holding her hand and caressing her brow.  He was doing his best to not look at her naked breasts and genitals, though Rachel did not seem to mind being exposed before him in this intimate setting.  Perhaps after what he had seen upstairs it no longer mattered to Rachel what he saw now.  She was obviously comforted by his presence.

One of the nurses came then and placed a sheet over her body for modesty and warmth.  Then she and Mr. Morrison left Rachel, Don and I to talk in privacy.

“Rach”, Don offered in a soothing manner, “it really doesn’t matter in the end what they did to you in that show.  Try to put it out of your mind and be ready to move on.  Probably nobody you know or will ever meet again was in that audience of 100 specially invited guests.  They were all big shots you know – politicians, judges, heads of major corporations.  What do you care about those people anyway?”

“But Don, what if word of this gets back to our high school?  How am I supposed to live this down when all the kids at school are talking about it?”

“I don’t think that is going to happen Rach.  The court records of your case are sealed per the judge’s order.  Mr. Morrison told me they made a point of not telling Bart or his family that you were also part of that show.  And they didn’t admit Bart’s family or friends to the auditorium to watch the show.  They made an exception in my case, but the 100 invited guests were all sworn to secrecy.  Guests tend to take that very seriously because otherwise they would be blackballed from getting any future invitations to private whippings.” 

“Maybe you are right” she said at last.

She drew Don to her and embraced him with all her strength.

“Don, as soon as you take me home tonight, I want you to make love to me.  Will you do that?”

Don was surprised at this turn of events.  He and Rachel had been best friends up to now, and that was all it was he thought.  He had wanted it to be more but he hadn’t realized until this moment that Rachel was ready for it to be more.  The puzzled expression on his face at last gave way to a big warm smile and he nodded to Rachel.

I thought this might be a good time to say goodbye to these two and headed back to the office to write up my report on the evening’s activities.

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.

Note to readers, writers and would be writers:  If you are enjoying this story or would even like to contribute a story to the Capitallia universe, author would appreciate hearing from you.  Femdom or maledom stories welcome.  Coaching available for new writers.  Drop an email to dondaverse (at) yahoo (dot) com.