Certificate of Correction Ch 8
The next morning we presented ourselves at the Justice Center at 9am. Harriet
and I were to be allowed to observe the proceedings for Erin and Allison. Only
attorneys for the girls could be there on their behalf. There was to be a
medical exam for all three--which we could monitor--then Erin and Allison would
receive their punishment. After that, at high noon, Susan would receive the
birch.
We were met by a representative from the prosecutor's office, a smartly dressed
woman who said her name was Helen Schiff. She was all business---dark suit,
black hair pulled back in a bun, black rimmed glasses--yep, young assistant DA
all the way. I wondered if she volunteered for this. We shook hands, and we were
taken to the infirmary and instructed to stand off to the side in an examination
room.
They brought in Allison and Erin. The girls looked relieved to see us and gave
us a wan smile. They looked like they hadn't slept much. They were in street
clothes. Their stay was too short to merit prison garb. Not so with Susan. She
was brought in wearing her denims and halter from the day before. She looked
worried.
"Alright, let's get started." This from a beefy woman who looked to be the
matron in charge. "I'm Mrs Morris and I'm in charge of this punishment detail.
First, you girls are to be examined by Dr Blumquist to certify your fitness for
punishment. We'll then take the two junior girls upstairs. Ms Pemberton, you
will wait until noon for imposition of sentence. Cooperate and this will go
smoothly and you'll be allowed to leave St Johns today. Make trouble for us and
you might not. The very least we can do is order additional strokes, and belive
me, you don't want that. Do I make myself clear?" Nobody said a word. "Well, do
I?" she barked.
"Yes, ah... ma'am" squeaked Erin.
"Yes ma'am, yes." said Allison and Susan together.
She looked at all three for a moment. "Good. Alright, ladies, now strip.
Everything. Let's go."
The three girls looked at each other like 'Gee do we hafta?' The punishment
detail consisted of Mrs Morris, a juvenile matron escorting each of the girls,
and a female guard who had custody of Susan. Harriet and I were the only
non-prison personnel.
"This gentleman is your attorney ladies. You picked him, so don't go all modest
on me. Take your clothes off."
Allison, Susan and Erin proceeded to strip. Although I had seen Allison and Erin
both practically naked before, I still marvelled at how beautiful they both
were-- Erin with her petite but perfectly proportioned figure, and Allison with
her more bounteous figure. Susan was a lush and curvacious woman, perhaps a tad
bottom heavy, but that just made her more alluring. Harriet looked at me with a
raised eyebrow, but I could only give her a questioning grimace, like what am I
supposed to do? I tried to distract my mind. It wasn't fair to witness such a
lovely unveiling in such stark surroundings and for such a grim purpose.
They were given hospital type gowns. As they were tying these, the doctor
arrived. As if a pre-whipping physical were routine, he matter-of-factly
examined each girl, listening to her heart with a stethescope, taking blood
pressure--Christ, I could have told him that their little hearts would be racing
a mile a minute. Then the worst part. Each one had to bend over the examining
table while the doctor raised their gowns and inspected each one's buttocks to
certify them fit for flogging. Understandably they all blushed at this shameful
indignity. I understood that it was necessary--any cuts or bruises and they
wouldn't proceed. The doc made some notes on a chart then addressed the head of
the punishment detail.
"All are fit and ready to undergo punishment, Mrs Morris."
"Thank you doctor. All right girls, you heard him. You are healthy young ladies
and can stand up under the punishment you're going to get. Just a word of
advice--when the whipping starts, don't clench. It hurts more. Also, go ahead
and cry. Don't try and be the strong silent type. Now, I'm the head of this
detail but I'm not the one who's doing the flogging. That would be Ms Anna
Klochek. Ms Klochek has been specially trained to administer the punishment
prescribed for you by our courts. She is waiting for us upstairs. Let's go."
I couldn't decide if this was good news or bad news. I settled on bad. She had
probably had lots of practice and could therefore swing a punishment strap hard
with unerring accuracy.
"Clara," she said to Susan's guard, "escort Miss Pemberton back to her cell."
And with that she ushered us out into the hallway for a walk down a long
corridor to a stairway. Erin and Allison were clad only in thin gowns, like
hospital gowns. They were naked underneath. The procession drew some stares,
smiles and knowing winks from passersby in the hallway, much to the
mortification of Erin and Allison. There was no question that this was a
punishment detail headed for the special room set aside for the delivery of
juvenile strappings.
We arrived at a nondescript room on the second floor and were ushered in. It was
a 20' by 40' room, low ceilinged, about the size of a school classroom. It was
unfurnished except for the apparatus that stood in the center of the room. This
was a low padded bench having a top in the form of a long shallow "A".
Apparantly the prisoner's hips rested at the apex of the A while lying face down
on the bench, so that in this slightly bent position the buttocks were the
highest point of the body, presenting a well-defined target for the strap. The
bench was only 3' high, which meant that the lashes would be applied with a
downward stroke.
A powerful looking matron in her mid 30's, short blonde hair, rangy, athletic,
who was apparantly Anna Klochek, stood at one end of the room next to a rack of
leather straps and wooden paddles.
Harriet and I were told to stand behind a yellow stripe painted on the floor.
The girls were taken to the other side of the bench, each one held at the elbow
by her guard. Mrs Morris pulled an official-looking document from a valise she
held under her arm.
"That's the warrant for the execution of corporal punishment," whispered
Harriet. "She has to read it to the defendants."
"Allison Carter, Erin Hand, having been found guilty of violation of the Code of
the Island of St John's, sec 18- 411(a), you have been sentenced to receive 24
lashes with the juvenile correctional strap. Have you anything to say?"
Both girls shook their heads. Their faces bore fearful expressions. Erin's eyes
flicked to Anna Klochek. I caught a thin smile forming on her face. Erin blushed
and looked away.
"Then we will proceed. We will go in alphabetical order. Miss Carter, please
remove your gown."
Allison hesitated for a brief moment then slipped the gown off, letting it drop
to the floor. Her guard pulled her over to the bench while Mrs Morris said, "Lie
face down...move forward a little. Hands down to the sides please."
While Allison was being adjusted, her guard fastened wrist cuffs to Allison's
wrists at the front legs of the bench, and ankle cuffs at the back. She then
brought a wide strap around from underneath which went across her lower back,
and buckled it. Another strap went around her legs just above the knee. Thus
fastened, she was completely immobile. She could squirm a bit but that was about
it. Her bottom jutted up obscenely in this contraption, the cheeks spread a
little, but remained relaxed so as to absorb in the fatty mass of flesh the
painful smacks of the strap that were to come.
When she was buckled in, Mrs Morris checked the restraints one last time and
nodded to Mrs Klocheck. The blonde matron selected a strap from the wall and
advanced toward the bench.
"Just a minute," said Harriet, "I want to examine that strap."
"This is highly irregular, Mrs Reeves. You are here to observe. That is all. You
may not interfere."
"That strap is not regulation for juvenile offenders. I wish to examine it. If
you please," she said holding out her hand.
"Let her see it," said Mrs Morris to Matron Klocheck, who with a smirk handed
the strap to Harriet. From a pocket in her suit coat Harriet produced a small
caliper and a tape measure, and proceeded to measure the strap. Allison craned
her head to look, eyes wide with trepidation.
"This is not regulation. It is 24" long, not 20", and is 3/8" thick, not 1/4" as
called for by your own procedure directives. See for yourself."
Mrs Morris handled the strap, then gave it to Mrs Klocheck. "Ok, Mrs Reeves,
you've made your point." To Mrs Klocheck she said: "Use the one hanging next to
it."
"Nice job," I whispered.
"That strap looked too heavy. I think they use it for prison discipline for the
adult females. The juvenile one is lighter, it won't bruise as much. It's the
least I could do for the poor girls. I suspected they might try this--probably
on a 'suggestion' from the judge, but he'd deny it in a heartbeat."
Anna Klochek retrieved the proper implement and took her stance next to the
bench. Allison closed her eyes, tense, buttocks clenched. The matron put her
left foot forward and ran the supple length of leather through her fingers.
Bringing it back she swooped it down from overhead. There was a "whoosh"
followed by a loud CRACK! as the leather flattened the summits of Allison's
bottomcheeks.
"Aiii...ahhh," hissed Allison. A livid line of red spang up on the crowns of her
buttocks as the strap was withdrawn.
"One," counted Mrs Morris. Another guard made a note on a clipboard. The matron
took aim again. Whoosh...CRACK! The jutting fanny jiggled as the strap hit.
"Arrr....owwww..." cried Allison. "Two." Whoosh...SMACK! Another loud smack
planted on the quivering mounds of Allison's behind. "Ohhhh...ssss...ahhh, God
it hurts!" squealed Allison, frantic. "Three." More scribbling on the clipboard.
The strap rose and fell with a steady rhythym, perhaps at intervals of 10-15
seconds. Mrs Klochek was putting her back into it, determined to punish the
attractive American as severely as she could. The blows of the strap were
explosive. Allison's fanny got redder and her cries more plaintive with each
smartly applied lick. The island of St John's was going to make sure these
Americans went home with well whipped fannies.
Whoosh...SMACK! "Oh...hoo...hoo..." Allison cried. "Fourteen." Whisshh....CRACK!
A particularly hard one. Allison jerked her head back and let own a shriek. A
thin smile appeared on Ms Klocheck's lips. She lined up the next stroke.
Whoosh...CRACK! Allison's buttocks quivered. The red bands were now all blurring
together. "Sixteen"
The remaining strokes were delivered with that same hard relentless intensity.
This was a real punishment. What I had done with the paddle, I could see, had
been mild by comparison. Twenty four strokes with what amounted to an old
fashioned razor strop, thick and supple, was a serious ass tanning, and I was
sure both Allison and Erin would feel the strap's heat for days to come.
I did have to admit that the strapping had been delivered with efficiency and
precision. Ms Klocheck knew what she was doing. She stood to the right side and
measured her distance. She ran the strap through her her left palm before
drawing it back behind her and swinging it up and down in a wide arc. Each
searing lick was right on target, each one producing a loud Crack! that
reverberated off of the hard walls of the room. The awful smacking sounds were
interspersed with Allison's hisses, wails and moans. The whole thing was over in
5 minutes. It must have been the longest 5 minutes of Allison's life, though.
When they let her up she could hardly stand. Her face was contorted in pain,
tears streaming down. She sobbed in soft hiccupping gulps. They shuffled Allison
to the side, and slipped the gown over her head. Mrs Morris turned her gaze on
Erin.
"Miss Hand, remove your gown please."
Erin's frightened eyes darted to the two of us as she dropped her gown to the
floor.
"Place her on the punishment bench," intoned Mrs Morris. Erin's guard assisted
her in assuming the face down bottoms up position that exposed her seat so
vulnerably. Matron Klochek waited patiently, strap in hand.
Erin's whipping was a carbon copy of Allison's, except that Erin wriggled more.
The pain of each smack of the strap must have been atrocious judging from Erin's
wails which grew more and more frantic with each lick delivered by the strong
right arm of the formidable Anna Klochek. Whoosh...SMACK! Whoosh...SMACK! I
wondered if she enjoyed this. I think so. Her face beamed with an expression of
both determination and a sort of grim joy. She was sweating, her face and arms
bearing a light sheen of moisture. She would occasinally break rhythym to brush
back an errant lock of hair. After each painful smack we observed Erin grinding
her hips into the pad of the bench in a vain attempt to assuage the pain. Erin's
fanny was smaller and more compact than Allison's. It didn't jiggle as much as
each hard shot impacted the writhing cheeks. I wondered if it hurt her more than
Allison. Whoosh...SMACK! "Owwwww." Whoosh...SMACK! "Aiii....ahhhh...". These
were the only sounds heard in the room for the five full minutes that it took to
administer 24 strokes with the licky strap. Nobody in the room moved or said a
word as all eyes fastened on the chastiser and the chastised acting out their
duet of pain.
When all 24 licks had been duly administered, Mrs Morris nodded to Matron
Klocheck who was by now, almost breathless. She had outdone herself. Both girls
had been given a bare bottom licking to rival the efforts of the burliest male
prison guard. The buttocks of both girls had been tanned to a livid red, almost
purple. They were both sobbing with pain and humiliation from the ordeal. At
least it was over.
"Take them back down to the infirmary," said Mrs Morris. Turning to Harriet and
me she said, "We will bring their clothes to them there. They will be released,
after Miss Pemberton's birching, which is due to begin in 15 minutes."
"Anna," she said, turning to the blonde matron who had so thoroughly whipped the
wriggling bottoms of our clients, "please escort Ms Reeves and her colleague to
the yard."
She told us to follow her. We caught up with her and walked three abreast down a
long corridor.
"Did you have to hit them so hard?" challenged Harriet. Anna Klochek stopped.
She looked at Harriet with a hard glare. "Of course. It's my job to punish. And
I punish very thoroughly," she said with a thin smile. "I believe that our
punishment should drive the culprit beyond the limits of her ability to bear
it--it should break her completely. Only then will she be truly sorry for her
crime."
"Well, it's obvious you tried," said Harriet huffily.
"Perhaps you protest too much, Ms Reeves. They had it coming. They got a, what
do you call it, good 'trip to the woodshed' today. However, the day isn't
over.... and Ms Reeves," she said with a cruel smile,
"Yes."
"You haven't seen anything yet."
