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Subject: {ASSM} Certificate of Correction Pt 9 ( F/F, M/F spank, whip, cons, nc)
Date: Wed, 13 Sep 2000 16:10:07 -0400
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Certificate of Correction Ch 9--The Birch
We were led into the yard. Harriet and I stepped into
the brilliant noonday sun. There were small, portable
elevated bleachers that had been erected on either
side of a scaffold which stood at one end of the
enclosed courtyard. The courtyard itself was a long
rectangle in the center of the Justice Center complex
measuring about 200' by 100'.
Various dignitaries and "guests" were already seated,
some in the bleachers and some in chairs directly in
front of the scaffold. Stark and ominous, a whipping
post stood in the center of the scaffold. Off to the
side was a bucket. Three rods, actually bunches of
switches bound at one end, and wrapped in cheesecloth,
protruded from the bucket. Otherwise the scaffold was
bare except for some chairs.
As attorneys for the prisoner, Susan Pemberton, we
were entitled to be in front. No one was permitted on
the platform itself except the prisoner and the
corrections department people.
The punishment detail emerged from a door at one end
of the courtyard. A rather official looking man in his
50's led. I guessed he was the warden. Next to him was
a uniformed matron. There were guards on either side
of Susan walking abreast.
As they approached the scaffold, a uniformed policeman
ascended the platform. This fellow looked young and
fit. He put down his hat and started to take off his
shirt. It looked like he was to be the "executioner".
He was a good looking guy in his 20's, brown curly
hair, trim, actually quite handsome. Susan looked up
and I could see her give a little start when she
realized that a man would be giving her the whipping.
Under any other circumstances she would probably
thought him quite good looking. I didn't imagine she'd
relish him asking her out in view of his appointed
task today. Unfortunately, he also had wide shoulders
and strong looking arms.
Susan was wearing the same type of white smock that
the girls had worn. My impression was that the whole
procession looked like some pagan sacrificial rite.
The young officer started to roll his arms and
stretch, loosening up his shoulders.
The procession arrived at the bottom of the platform.
Susan hesitated, then, prodded by her escorts, she
ascended the stairs. When all had reached the top. The
warden pulled out a paper and addressing Susan started
to read it.
"It's the warrant for execution of the sentence,"
whispered Harriet. She seemed breathless and agitated.
She gripped my hand. "Poor Susan, there's nothing we
can do for her now...They haven't had a man do the
birching before."
"Anything in their regulations forbid it?" I asked.
Maybe this wasn't right.
"No. It doesn't say. It's up to the corrections
department. The regulations cover things like how many
strokes, the size and length of the rod, that sort of
thing." She shivered as she contemplated the police
officer with his shirt off, now clad in a tank top,
arms crossed...waiting.
Up on the platform the warden started to speak. He
read essentially the same charge as the one read to
Allison and Erin
"...for which crime you will now receive 36 strokes
with the island birch to be delivered as lower
discipline to the bare skin. Do you have anything you
wish to say before sentence is carried out?"
Susan stammered a nervous "no".
The warden nodded to the head matron and said, "
Secure her to the whipping post and proceed."
A sound, yelling from a window above, momentarily
diverted everyone's attention.
"Susan, Susan, look up, we're here! You're not alone,
Susan!"
Susan and everyone else looked up to the window above.
There were Erin and Allison waving with the fist up
salute. Susan seemed to straighten up her posture at
the sight of her friends.
Next to me Harriet noted, "Uh, oh, trouble. They're
not supposed to do that." An official was talking to
Anna Klochek and pointing to the window. She nodded
and strode off. I tried to follow but a guard stopped
me.
"No one allowed in this entrance. You'll have to have
an escort."
I'd have to go back in the front gate when this was
over, anyway. I returned to Harriet.
"Are the girls in trouble?" I said.
"I don't think so. They'll just tell them to pipe
down."
On the platform Susan was ordered to doff her gown.
She did so revealing her lush body to the gaze of the
spectators. Being a redhead, her skin was white. She
had a few freckles, but overall she had a pale skin
tone. It would redden quickly under the birch. Susan
had an attractive figure. Her slender waist flared out
into nicely rounded hips and a full lush derriere. Her
bottom cheeks were both rounded and prominent.
Nature's perfect spot for punishment.
The two guards led her to the post and positioned her
against a horizontal bar with a pad that projected out
from the post and pushed her behind out by pressing
against her pelvis. Ankle cuffs were fastened to ring
bolts. They stretched her hands forward and up, and
tied them to a ring high on the post almost forcing
her to stand tiptoe. This stretched her thighs and
calves slightly and forced her bottom to jut out
lewdly, inviting the rod.
Susan turned and looked, wild-eyed at the man who
would administer her birching. He reached into the
bucket and selected a rod. Drawing it out, he
unwrapped it from the cloth and shook it. The switches
deployed, fanning out to form an end that looked to be
about 3"-4" wide. He swooshed it through the air
several times. It made an audible whine.
"They keep it wrapped in wet cheesecloth overnight,"
said Harriet. "Keeps it supple--they don't want it to
dry out."
The young officer looked at the warden.
"If you are ready, Sgt Wiggins, do your duty. Proceed
with punishment."
Wiggins took his stance to Susan's right. He carefully
measured the birch rod so that the splayed end would
fall across both cheeks evenly. Susan flinched as he
tapped her bottom lightly. Satisfied that his position
was correct, he drew back his arm. The birch rod made
a whining sound as it descended and a dry thwack! as
it landed. Susan emitted a loud hiss, drawing a breath
in through clenched teeth. Someone on the platform
called out, "One".
Parallel pink lines spang up on the crowns of Susan's
buttocks where the rod had struck. Susan wriggled and
flexed her calves. Sgt Wiggins lined up the rod again.
Swiiishh...thwack! The impact caused a fleshy ripple
of the cheeks of Susan's rear. Another sharp hiss from
Susan. I heard a "Two" solemnly intoned by someone on
the platform, apparantly keeping count.
Swiisshhh...whick! Another hard swipe from the rod
made Susan arch her head back in pain. It must be
stinging, I thought, but she was mostly silent yet.
She shifted from foot to foot as if this might
alleviate the sting. All it did was made her fanny
jiggle lasciviously.
Swissshhh....huick! Number 4. A gasp from Susan.
Swiishhh....thwack! "5". Susan thrust forward,
arching on tiptoe. The pink lines were merging into an
overall hot pink hue.
Swiisshhh....huick! "6". Right in the fold at the top
of the thighs-a tender spot. I could see Susan's whole
body tense in painful reaction to the swipe of the
rod.
Having found a rhythm, Sgt Wiggins now started
whipping in earnest, delivering a stroke, pausing,
then pulling back his arm for the next one. Susan grew
more vocal now, yelping as the birch striped her nude
fanny which grew redder with every stripe. As the rod
landed she would tense and throw her head back. Her
bottom jiggled as the rod struck.
At number 12, Wiggins stopped to get another rod.
Susan sagged against the bar gulping. She was one
third of the way through the painful ordeal. Wiggins
took his time unwrapping a second rod. Susan turned
her head to see what he was doing, her eyes wide with
apprehension.
"Ooh, I can only imagine how frightfully this must be
stinging," breathed Harriet, her hand still squeezing
mine. "He's really laying into her."
I could only agree. Susan's rear was striped red. The
birch wasn't heavy, it was more supple and swishy than
anything else, but the cumulative effect must have
felt like bee stings on top of bee stings.
Wiggins was ready to start up again. This time he
delivered the twelve strokes in sets of three.
He would strike with three quick strokes like sswish!
swish! swish! and pause. The first time he did this,
Susan rose up on her toes and let out a wail that
sounded like "arrrhhh...ahhh...uhh" at each lick.
After the second set of three she started dancing,
hopping from foot to foot. It was like she was doing a
fanny jiggling dance in tune to the birch that
scorched her shapely seat in such a pitiless manner.
On the third set she yelled in pain,
"Arrhh...ahh...nnnhhh" as each stroke landed. Wiggins
had broken into a sweat now. His skin revealed by the
tank top glistened with exertion. He pused to wipe his
brow, then delivered the last three swipes of the
second group of 12. Susan broke down and shrieked. Her
bottom was starkly red now. Most most offenders, this
would have been the end of the ordeal. Susan had 12
more to go.
She turned her head in our direction as Sgt Wiggins
fetched the last rod. I mouthed, "Almost over." Susan
nodded weakly, her tearstained face a mask of anguish.
Sgt Wiggins prepared the final rod, shaking the withes
to spread them out. As he swooshed it through the air,
I could see Susan flinch at the sound. This time he
laid them on in hard even strokes. As each swishing
lick struck Susan raised up, her buttocks jiggling
with the splat of the rod. Then she cried out in pain
and danced from foot to foot. She was no longer in
control of her body but was dancing to the tune of the
punishing birch. By number 28 she was crying
continuously and begging shamelessly for mercy. At
stroke number 32, however she had slumped her body
against the bar and was grinding her pelvis against it
in a slow humping motion, like she was being ridden
from behind by a vigorous lover. Wiggins paused
momentarily, puzzled.
"Oh, God," said Harriet, "look, she's become sexually
aroused. I saw this once before."
Everyone watched the unmistakeable writhing in stunned
silence.
The lewd display was interrupted by a sharp admonition
from the warden.
"Proceed, Sergeant. Finish the punishment."
Sgt Wiggins nodded and drew back his arm, apparantly
determined to make the last few memorable.
Swiisshh....huick! "Arhhh....ah...ah.." bleated Susan.
The hardest one yet. She ground her hips against the
bar in a slow circular motion.
Sweee....thwack! "34." Susan's fanny bounced lewdly.
Swiiissshhh....thwick! "35". Susan humped up and down,
in a frenzied motion.
Swiisshhh....huick! "36". Susan rose on tiptoes and
screamed, probably partly in relief.
The warden turned to Wiggins. "Good job Sgt."
"Thank you sir," he replied and placed the rod in the
bucket with the other spent birches.
"Untie her and take her back to the infirmary." The
attending matrons approached to do his bidding. Susan
slumped when they untied her. They quickly covered her
with the loose gown. Susan's hands gingerly massaged
her punished rear cheeks through the thin cotton, and
I could see tears roll down her face as they led her
away.
"Poor Susan," said Harriet shaking her head. "What an
ordeal! To be stripped naked and thrashed with a
bundle of switches until you are screaming and
dancing. It's especially shameful for a woman...to
have your rear end whipped like some schoolgirl...and
then to even become aroused by it! She will feel the
shame of that spectacle for years to come."
The spectators were beginning to melt away.
"I guess that's the point," I ventured. "The pain will
fade soon but she will remember this vividly for the
rest of her life. Let's go retieve Erin and Allison."
We went back out front and in through intake. To our
surprise we were told that the two juveniles had not
been released but were being detained in the office of
the deputy juvenile head matron.
"Well call her," I demanded. "Those girls are to be
released to my custody."
The desk officer picked up the phone. "There is an
attorney here, a Mr Hand. With him is a Mrs Reeves, an
attorney for Susan Pemberton...yes? alright, I'll send
them back...yes, Carla can escort them. I will. Right
away, Ms Klochek."
Anna Klochek again. I did not have to be told that
this was not good news.
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