

  
 
                         UNCERTAINTY

                             by

                        Joe Whatever



Although she was a law professor at the university, Mandy McLowery 
hadn't been inside the student court for years.  The room was 
familiar, but it had definitely changed.  On the wall behind the 
judge's bench was a new display case containing an impressive 
array of straps, paddles, and canes.

And in the corner was a large wooden punishment block.

Mandy had long fought Prof. Canebare's prurient desire to return 
corporal punishment to the university justice system.  But the 
rising tide of illegal parking and underage drinking made 
old-fashioned discipline an attractive option.

Of course, Judge Canebare never sentenced MALE students to corporal 
punishment.  The shameful ignominy of a trip over the professor's 
knee -- or a humiliating bare-bottom strapping in open court -- was 
reserved for attractive coeds.

Mandy didn't fully understand why she had taken the faculty parking 
pass off her dashboard and put it in her purse.  The flagrant 
violation had guaranteed her a parking ticket.  Of course, as a 
faculty member, she didn't have to appear in court.  She could 
simply have paid the $5 fine.  But she had just torn up the ticket 
instead.  Why should she pay a fine for parking in her own space?

And she wasn't sure why she had marked the plea form GUILTY when 
it came in the mail.  Perhaps a trial wasn't worth the bother....  
But that didn't explain why she had refused to pay the fine and 
had petitioned to have her case heard before the student court.  
It was a puzzling decision, since females in Judge Canebare's 
court were not allowed to testify, call witnesses, or disrupt 
the proceedings by speaking.

Mandy rolled the punishment block into the center of the room and 
locked it into place.  She gingerly laid herself over the block 
and looked up at the ominous judicial bench that now towered over 
her.  The accused was allowed to plead for mercy only after being 
strapped down over the block.  She shuddered as she imagined 
pleading for clemency from that dreadful man while some grinning 
fraternity boy teasingly ran the razor strap over her squirming 
bottom cheeks.

She also wasn't sure why she had asked for a Friday court date.  
The Friday student prosecutor was Harvey Benton, an arrogant 
chauvinist who had flunked her Feminist Law seminar.  Harvey hated 
her, and he had been bragging to his friends for weeks about how 
his "snooty professor would be strapped very hard...and very bare!"

Why had she demanded a Friday court date?

She couldn't explain it.  She couldn't explain why she hadn't paid 
the fine, why she had waived all of her rights, and why she left 
herself at the mercy of a prosecutor and a judge who detested her.  

And she certainly couldn't explain why her right hand was in her 
panties as she slowly rocked her hips back and forth over the 
punishment block....



Edited by C. Lakewood

