


     

                          ECHOES

                            by

                       Joe Whatever



Judge Jessica Black was standing on the balcony of her hotel 
suite when she first heard the CRACK! of the leather and the 
pitiful feminine pleas.  Although she couldn't see into the 
courtyard of the prison across the street, the reverberating 
echoes could mean only one thing.

Jessica had fantasized about corporal punishment for years, and, 
despite her better judgment, the echoes of the punishment were 
intoxicating.  She closed her eyes and squeezed her thighs 
together as she enjoyed the tingly sensation between her legs.

As it happened, she was the keynote speaker at the island's 
"Conference on Women in the Judiciary."  And the very next day 
she made a point of asking the host of the conference, Judge 
Harshe, about the sounds she had heard from her balcony.

His answer was both sage and practical. 

"Corporal punishment is common here on the island.  Although, 
as a rule, foreign spectators are not allowed to witness such 
punishments, if someone were really interested in that sort of 
thing, there IS a way that she could get a front row seat.

"Of course, first she would need to confess to some trivial 
misdemeanor...."

		****************************** 
 
Later that day, Judge Harshe smiled as the two bailiffs dragged 
Jessica before his massive bench.  

"This prisoner showed up at the police station and confessed to 
jaywalking.  The prosecutor suggests, and defense counsel agrees, 
that the prisoner be taken to the courtyard to witness the 
punishment of a female inmate as a warning."

Harshe smiled down from the bench at the blushing female prisoner.  
As per the prison rules, Jessica had been stripped of her carefully 
tailored clothes when she was taken into custody.  The trembling 
young woman was now standing in front of the judge dressed in 
nothing but a thin, white, cropped tank-top and a tight pair of 
prison-issue white cotton panties.

She nervously bit her lip as she looked up into Judge Harshe's 
twinkling, mischievous eyes.

"Turn her around and bend her over," he ordered.

Jessica gasped as the bailiffs obeyed the judge's order and 
hoisted her thinly-clad bottom into the air for the court's 
viewing pleasure. 

"Judging from that wet spot between her legs, I'd say this little 
tart needs more than just a warning," the judge chuckled.  "That 
tight little backside is just itching for the strap.  And it's an 
itch that will be thoroughly scratched."

He banged his gavel.  "Give the little strumpet twenty-five with 
the strap," he said, merrily.  "Make her bare fanny dance."

Jessica was horrified to discover that the rule about foreign 
spectators did not extend to the male attendees of the conference.  
The same men who had been present for her keynote address now 
watched with undisguised amusement as she was strapped down over 
the block and stripped for punishment.

Her shrieks echoed through the courtyard as the strap cracked 
through the air....

From the balcony of her hotel, Justice Sharon White listened 
intently to the punishment in the prison yard below.  Judge 
Harshe had promised her a front row seat tomorrow.

Of course, first she would need to confess to some trivial 
misdemeanor....



Edited by C. Lakewood

