Author: Jack Crawford
Title: Singapore Cane
Summary: American Businessman finds he is not above the law in Singapore and discovers a fate worse than that of Michael Fay!
Keywords: dom, FM, humil, fd, spank, exhib
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Copyright: 2010




   Roger Emerson was at the cusp of learning what most Americans never
really understood: the extent of the penal system in Singapore.  Roger had
conducted business in Singapore for several years, but never fully
appreciated the intricacies of the culturally mixed court system, nor did
he understand the sense of justice that was almost inbred in the life long
residents of Singapore.

   As the celebrated Michael Fay incident suggests, Singapore was formerly
a British crown colony and has been an independent member of the
Commonwealth of Nations only since 1965.  The use of the judicial cane on
bad boy Michael Fay clearly indicates the years of British influence on
that nation found at the tip of the Malay peninsula.  And, because of its
strategic position, Singapore has long been fought over and occupied by
other nations.

   Even the long and cruel occupation of Singapore by the Japanese during
the World War II era had a profound effect on the justice system.  The
Japanese were ruthless and uncompromising masters, a trait that has been
carried over into many aspects of modern day Singapore, its society, and
its judicial system.  Roger Emerson was just beginning to understand all of
this.  Roger is a business broker, specializing in micro electronics,
especially computer chips.  He works at the very edge of legitimacy,
brokering transactions for pirated or "knock-off" computer chips.  And,
because of operating in this fringe or shadow world of imitations, Roger
earns many hundreds of thousands of dollars every year.

   Of course, that is where he ran into problems.  Intel, and other chip
makers, had lobbied hard through the US government to clamp down on the
Pacific Rim chip pirates and Roger was caught in its drag net.  Sitting now
in a conference room in the court building, Roger is mulling over a plea
bargain presented by his attorney.  Also present in the room is Sandra
Synochet, a representative of the US State Department.

   Roger, the archetypical "ugly American" had screamed loud and long about
the injustice and mistake of his arrest.  It had cause quite a scene and
the story was picked up internationally.  Unfortunately, for him, he was
quite guilty of trading in pirated chips and was facing a 5 to 10 year jail
sentence.

   Because of his screaming that, "you can't do this to me, I'm an
American!" he had placed the Singapore court in a very awkward position. 
It might have been possible to quietly suspend sentence and deport Mr. 
Emerson, but the local population had become quite aroused over the
incident.  After hundreds of years of subservience to other countries,
Emerson's squealing appeal for preferential treatment was the worst thing
that could happen.  The public believed firmly that justice must be served
...  and it would be ...  or riots would break out in the streets.

   That situation caused the prosecutor and the court to suggest an
alternative to many years in jail.  "Think carefully, Mr.  Emerson, about
what you are about to decide," warned the State Department's Miss Synochet.
"The `Foreign Correction Program' is apparently quite severe.  Michael Fay
received a serious caning for a prank ...  a prank that would normally have
cost him four or six months jail time.  You, on the other hand, are facing
a sentence of up to ten years!"

   "You don't understand, Miss Synochet," Roger countered.  "I make my
living by selling and I have to sell face to face.  Even one year out of
circulation and I'll be entirely out of business.  I don't have a choice
and it's only 30 days in this `Foreign Program'.  If you people at State
could have got off your collective dead ass, I wouldn't be stuck in this
mess."

   Silently, Sandra fumed.  Roger's arrogance was disgusting and she hoped
he would go through with his decision.  She had seen two other prisoners
caned and she thought it would do this arrogant crook some good.  And, he
was a crook ...  there was no disputing that fact.

   "Mr.  Emerson," interrupted his attorney who sensed that sparks were
really about to fly, "I, too, must be certain you understand the
significance of this decision." Waiting for Roger to acknowledge him, he
continued.  "We do not know the exact extent of what goes on in the "Yellow
Complex" as the foreign section is called.  But, what we do know, from
interviewing detainees when they are released, is that the punishments are
quite severe.  And that severity is both physical as well as mental.  The
jailers strive to break your will, hoping you will change your ways and
also scare others to avoid breaking the law in our country."

   "I heard all that," snapped Roger, "and I also know that not a single
inmate was ever released with serious injuries.  They aren't going to break
my arm or leg, for Christ's sake!"

   "No, most certainly not," agreed the attorney, "but you will be severely
physically punished and I am told the pain is quite excruciating." "Tough,"
growled Roger.  "It can't be as tough as losing 5 or 10 years of my life
and my livelihood.  Tell `em I'll take the 30 day Foreign Correction
Program!"

   The attorney shrugged his shoulders and said simply, "I will relay your
consent." Sandra Synochet shook her head gravely and looked down at the
floor.  She hoped that the glee she felt that this arrogant prick was going
to get a real lesson in manners was not visible.

   And so, that evening, Roger Emerson was shackled and transported by van
to the prison where he was introduced to the Yellow Complex.  Two female
guards completed the transfer paper work and escorted Roger to the internal
processing room.  He was shoved into a windowless room and ordered to
strip. "You will place all of your possessions into the box on the floor
and then slide that box through the slot beneath the door.  You will be
given a physical examination to determine there is no contraband and then
the rules will be explained to you." With a final shove, Roger was pushed
into the room and as the door slammed shut he heard the guard's final
warning, "And, don't make us wait!"

   Already resolved to complying as fully as possible, Roger had determined
that the best way to survive the 30 days was to be fully and completely
cooperative.  He bit back a sarcastic remark and quickly and quietly did as
instructed.  He placed everything he had, which was only the prison issue
clothing, into the crude cardboard box and slid it through the receptacle
in the door.

   He waited only a few minutes, but standing naked in the bare room he
shivered despite the oppressive heat.  Suddenly the door burst open and the
two female guards entered.  They gave him short commands and he followed
them completely, allowing them to place leather cuffs about his wrists and
ankles.  His hands were clamped together behind his back and a two foot bar
was attached to the ankle clamps.  Roger was then escorted out of the room,
down a hallway to another room.

   The door closed to the new room, which look like a medical examination
room.  He compliantly allowed the guards to remove the spreader bar and to
attach the ankle cuffs to bolts in the floor.  At his waist was a cold
metal bar that looked oddly like a hitching post scene in Old West movies.
His wrists were attached to a bar above his head which was subsequently
winched up, stretching him to his fullest height with hands high over head.

   Roger did not like the next sound he heard: latex gloves snapping into
place.  He felt a pair of hands run over his shoulders and down his back,
testing his musculature.  "Roger," one of the guards said, "This is where
we introduce you to the few rules that we have here in the Yellow Complex.
But first, I want you to understand our motivation."

   The two guards stepped from behind him and eyed his body hungrily. 
Roger though they had the look a starving vulture must have when he first
sees a dead rabbit.  "My name is Alexia," said the taller of the two
guards, "And this is Esmerelda." The other guard nodded.

   "My grandmother was a Russian refugee and my grandfather was some
Japanese officer.  Because of her mixed background, my mother was a whore
until my father, a rather prominent public figure, took her out of the
brothel and eventually married her.  The stories of foreign occupation have
been burned into my memory and it is those stories that make me want to
work here.  My family is quite wealthy and I don't have to work.  I do
this, just to be Able to deal with criminals like you.  And, by the way,
Esmerelda has a similar background ...  actually, we are sisters!"

   Roger looked at both women and immediately noticed the family
resemblance.  But, he also noticed something else.  Before, he had been too
focused and too fearful of his new surroundings to really look at his
jailers.  They were stunningly beautiful women and if their mother looked
at all like them, he could understand how a powerful man might take that
whore as his wife.

   They both wore odd uniforms, quite unlike any prison guard uniform he
had ever imagined.  Oh, they had high leather riding boots, but the also
wore short skirts that showed plenty of luscious thigh.  A wide leather
belt kept the blouse and skirt in place, and the blouse was an unusual
design as well.  Ample breasts were shoved up and out a daring diamond
shaped opening that allowed the swelling breasts plenty of opportunity to
be appreciated.  Otherwise, the blouse was skin tight, even the high collar
about their throat.

   "Go ahead and look, Roger," teased Esmerelda, "That is one rule that we
don't have!" Roger blushed, knowing that he had been caught staring.  He
just hoped he hadn't been drooling.

   "We'll explain the rules to you," Esmerelda continued.  "There really
are very few of them.  First, we can tell you to do anything, and I do mean
anything.  The rule you need to know about is that you will do whatever it
is you are told to do.  Understand?"

   Roger nodded mutely.  "Second," added Alexia, "You will address us
respectfully.  You may call us `Ma'am' or something similarly respectful,
but if you ever use our given names, it must be preceded by `Miss'." She
paused and Roger nodded his understanding.

   Esmerelda added, "Finally, you may never have an erection without
permission.  Similarly, if you are ordered to be hard, you will get hard
immediately.  Failure to comply with your required `state' will require
severe punishment." "And," added Alexia, "Severe punishment will be quite
common.  You are here to be punished!" Looking to her sister, Alexia said,
"Please proceed with the examination, sister."

   Esmerelda chuckled and stood behind Roger, pressing her large breasts
into his back.  She allowed her hands to wander across his chest and she
kneaded and prodded his various muscles.  As her hand wandered down his
flat stomach, Roger felt his cock begin to stir.  Afraid of the
consequences, he tried to concentrate on anything but Esmeralda's latex
covered hands, but his efforts were unsuccessful.

   Alexia clucked her tongue.  "Not here even an hour and he's already
broken a rule." Roger's eyes widened as he felt Esmerelda grasp his
hardened cock and watched Alexia unbuckle and remove her wide leather belt.
"We'll see how long he keeps that unnecessary hard-on when my belt kisses
his ass."

   "I'm sorry!" pleaded Roger, "Please, she was teasing me.  It's not my
fault!" He fearfully watched the tall, muscular woman approach his left
side.  She deftly pulled her arm back and sliced the belt through the air.
CRACK!  He yelped, but could do nothing to avoid the stinging tongue of the
leather belt, and Alexia gave him half a dozen rapid fire lashes.  Roger
groaned with each stinging stroke and his manhood subsided.

   "That's better," cooed Alexia, "Your punishment would have been over,
but if there is one thing we absolutely hate, it's a prisoner who tries to
blame his mistakes on others ...  especially if he blames that mistake on
us!"

   Roger saw a sudden blur of motion at his right and too late noticed
Esmerelda swinging her own leather belt at his pinkened bottom.  CRACK!! 
Then from the other side, her sister gave him another severe taste of the
lash and together, they gave him perhaps a dozen searing strokes with their
belts.  They stopped as Roger screamed, "I'm SORRY!!"

   He gasped for air as the sisters replaced their belts.  Roger, happy the
immediate ordeal was over, thought the sister-guards were releasing him as
they unwinched the bar his hands were secured to.  Their intent was not to
release him, rather they kept lowering the bar until they could attached it
to another post, forcibly bending Roger at the waist, his body at a perfect
90 degree angle.  He jumped nervously as the bar clicked loudly into its
secured position.  He was startled yet again, as he felt something cold
slipped between his bottom cheeks.  When he felt the insistent pressure on
his sphincter, he realized one of the guards was slipping a lubricated
finger into his rectum.  A sudden rough push and the guard's finger slipped
past the tight little ring of muscle and penetrated his bottom.

   The finger slid slowly, seductively, in and out, tickling his prostate
gland and Roger felt that familiar stirring in his groin.  Uncontrollably,
his penis hardened and that situation was confirmed by the probing guard's
other latex enclosed hand.  "You're right, Alexia," noted her sister as she
fucked Roger's ass with her finger, "this little man just can't control his
urges!" She released his cock and plucked her finger from his asshole with
a noticeable "pop."

   Alexia had retrieved a thin whippy cane and stood just in front of
Roger, swinging the thin rattan, demonstrating its flexibility for Roger.
"This," she told her fearful charge, "is not the judicial cane that you
will come to really fear.  Rather, this is a school cane that is much less
severe, but it is still an excellent tool for garnering a naughty convict's
attention."

   Alexia went to the appropriate position to the left and rear of Roger's
waiting bottom.  With little ceremony, she whipped the cane across his
naked cheeks and grinned with satisfaction as Roger squealed with pain and
a bright red weal creased the center of his bottom.

   A few long seconds passed and Alexia brought the stinging cane back down
across his vulnerable bottom and Roger tried to bite back his pain, now
only grunting from the shock.  A few more seconds and a third nasty stroke
was all it took to return his cock to a shriveled and uninterested state.

   Before she could give Roger another stroke, Esmerelda asked, "Sister,
could we play my game with him?" Alexia nodded her assent and Esmerelda
unhooked the wrist bar and winched Roger back to his original upright
position.  With a bit of relief, Roger noted that the bar was not winched
as high as before and he shoulders felt somewhat more comfortable.

   "I'll bet you're wondering what my game is?" asked Esmerelda as she slid
up next to Roger.  Her breasts teased his chest and she ground her hips
into his pelvis.  Smiling, she clarified her intent.  "I want you to get
hard and I want you to fuck my hand.  That's pretty easy, isn't it?"

   A skeptical frown creased Roger's face as he watched Esmerelda squeeze
some lubricant from a tube into the palm of her hand.  She reached out and
massaged the generous glob of grease onto his cock, which began to stir
from the attention.  "Now that's all I'm going to do," she told him.  "I'll
just stand here with my fingers loosely griping your cock and I want you to
fuck my hand until you cum."

   Roger gave a few half hearted pumps with his hips and heard the sudden
and unmistakable whirring of the cane as it sliced through the air and
stung his bottom.  Roger's hips thrust forward more vigorously as a result
of the sudden cane stroke.  "Oh, I forgot," Esmerelda told him, "Alexia is
going to continue to cane you until you do cum.  You better work hard or
she will peel the skin right off your bottom with that cane!"

   Roger looked over his shoulder with fright, just in time to see Alexia
pull back her arm and sweep the cane viciously into his unprotected bottom.
He grunted and screwed his eyes closed from the pain, but began to
seriously, very seriously, fuck Esmerelda's hand.

   Only two strokes later, and Roger had spurted his seed and stopped the
caning.  The guards released him from his bonds and he only had to be told
once, to get down on his hands and knees to lick up his mess.  Roger did so
with great enthusiasm, not wanting to give the sisters any incentive for
further whippings.  He was rewarded by being led to his cell, apparently
the only prisoner in the Yellow Complex, then given a spartan dinner of a
clear broth that had some sort of fish chunks in it, a cup of rice, and
water.  He was allowed to sleep with no interruptions and felt recovered
and refreshed in the morning.  He had been awake some time when his jailers
came for him.

   "We have an interesting situation, Roger," announced Alexia.  "A few of
your countrymen are interested in your welling being so we have invited
them to witness one of your punishments."

   "Oh, no!  No one has to be around to see this!" he complained.

   "Would you like an extra caning this morning?" Esmerelda asked with no
little malice in her voice.

   "No, NO!  I'm sorry," he whimpered, immediately fearful of giving them
any excuse to torture his bottom further.

   "That's better," assured Esmerelda.  Then she warned him, "We are going
to play my little game again, but this time it will be a little different."

   "What do you mean?" he asked, his fear rising palpably.

   "You'll see soon enough," urged Alexia.  "For now, place your hands on
your head and don't let them move from there.  We're going out to the court
yard for this punishment."

   Reluctantly, Roger placed his hands on his head, and allowed himself to
be shepherded out of the cell block and into the courtyard.  He felt
horribly exposed and displayed, even though there was no one visible in the
courtyard except for his jailers.  A high brick wall surround the open
space so no one could see into the yard, except perhaps from the windows of
one of the guard towers.

   "Turn around slowly, in a little circle," Alexia ordered as she and her
sister stood away from him.  Roger did as instructed, and as he turned his
back to the guard tower, thought he heard some one say "Oh, my God!" He
blushed hotly as he realized that there was a witness in the guard tower.

   "That's right, Roger," Esmerelda said, "There is an audience behind the
glass.  If you look closely, you might be able to recognize them." As Roger
peered at the glass window he began to make out the figures behind it,
despite the early morning sun glinting off its surface.  "They noticed the
stripes on your bottom from last night.  And, they probably think they look
cute.  I know I do." Roger blushed again, but continued to stare at the
window.  Suddenly, he recognized who was there.  In front, was Sandra
Synochet with a big smirk on her face.  Behind her were two other women,
one Roger recognized as Sandra's secretary and the other was the
Ambassador's secretary.  Obviously, they were out for a little visual
satisfaction, and Roger suddenly regretted having treated them as badly has
he had when his troubles first started.

   He jumped as Esmerelda grasped his cock and began to urge it to its
fullest size.  He blushed again, humiliated as he felt his manhood respond.
As his cock became engorged, Esmerelda warned him, "The judicial cane is
quite severe.  I suggest you stand and take it or we will have to strap you
down and give you twice as many."

   She released his cock and stepped away.  This time, the whirring was
much lower pitched and the long, thick judicial cane striped his bottom
expertly.  The rifle shot crack was heard clearly in the guard house and
Roger groaned miserably, arching his back in an effort to ease the pain and
still maintain his position.

   Esmerelda reached over and gave his cock a few quick tugs, urging him
back to his fullest erection, then let go and stepped back just as the low
pitched whirring came again.  Roger groaned and writhed again, still
cognizant of his audience, but much more concerned about the agonizing pain
this heavier cane was inflicting.

   Again the whirring, and Roger thought that he had been cheated because
Esmerelda had not encouraged or rewarded his cock.  CCRRAAAACCKK!!!  He
jumped, howled at the pain, but maintained his position.  His cock had
shriveled.  "Give the ladies a little treat, Roger," ordered Esmerelda,
"Whack off for them.  I'll bet they'd like to see you spurt all over like a
little boy in the bathroom with a dirty magazine."

   Roger put his hands down and grasped his cock, pumping it furiously as
he hoped that the caning would stop when he came.  Another fearsome stroke
and he bent over, accidentally providing an inviting target that Alexia
could not resist.  The sudden repeat stroke stood Roger up and he pumped
his manhood even harder.  "Dance for them, Roger," encouraged Esmerelda,
"Pump your hips, make a sexy show!" Shamefully, Roger did as ordered, still
pumping his cock and fearing the next awful cut of the cane.

   WHHIIIIIRRRRR ....  CCRRAAAAACCKKKKK!  The heavy cane sliced into his
hot bottom and he shot his load at the same time.  Sticky cum was clinging
to his hand and Esmerelda ordered him to lick his hand clean and to make a
show of it for the ladies.

   As he sucked his fingers clean, he watched as the three women waved at
him, then turned and left.  "I hope they're satisfied," he mumbled to
himself.  "If they are not," answered Alexia, "they'll be back.  You still
haven't even finished your first day!" Roger groaned and grabbed his
tortured bottom, now wondering how he was going to survive an entire month!

