Justice under the New Laws

Justice under the New Laws:

by

The Bitchfinder-General

Part One: Sarah in the Pillory:

Sarah Williams had good reason to be worried. Since the Justice Party had won
the recent elections on an extreme anti-feminist programme, they had introduced
numerous laws that had long ago been dropped from the statute books.

Among the most popular of the new changes to the criminal system was the
reintroduction of public punishment. This could be as minor as forcing an
offender to parade through the streets wearing a dunce's cap and clown costume,
right up to capital punishment, which had not only been brought back but was now
conducted in full public view. It was even shown live on television and videos
of the events were now best-sellers.

One of the most popular of all the new measures was bringing back the pillory
and stocks. The sight of offenders - especially young female ones - being
helpless as the community threw things at them seemed to attract huge crowds of
enthusiastic participants.

Sarah was an eighteen-year old girl who had been found guilty of shoplifting.
She had been caught red-handed and the security guard at the store had put her
into handcuffs and restraints before the police arrived and took her off to a
cell to formally charge her with theft. She hoped that her youth and sex would
let her get off more lightly, but the judge looked sternly at her as he read out
her sentence. There was no hint of mercy in his cold eyes.

"Sarah Williams, I hereby sentence you to a session  in the pillory, followed by
a further session in the stocks, a lashing at the public whipping post, and 180
days of community service."

He paused for a moment before continuing to pronounce sentence. "You will also
be required to wear a placard around your neck for the next two years bearing
the word "thief." Do you have anything to say before I order the punishment to
be carried out?"

Tears filled Sarah's eyes. She felt absolutely helpless. It was so unfair, she
thought. Of course she shouldn't have tried to steal that designer outfit from
the department store. But how could she afford it on her wages? Now, under the
new laws, she was going to suffer one of the most dreaded punishments of all.
She knew that she'd been stupid - but perhaps the judge might have pity on your
youth? She tried to plead with him, anyway.

"Please, Your Honour, I'm really sorry that I stole those clothes. I didn't
really mean to. It was a spur of the moment thing, you see. I can't afford
clothes like that on my wages and I thought if I could just have one really nice
outfit ... well, it would.."

Her voice tailed away in confusion. She realised that she was saying all the
wrong things. Shaking her head sadly, she looked at the judge once more.

"I'm very sorry, Your Honour. There was no excuse for what I did. I can only
throw myself on the court's mercy."

The judge only looked at her sternly and shook his head. "You ask the court for
mercy, yet you have just tried to excuse your crime. Clearly, you are not truly
penitent and need to feel the full majesty of the law's chastisement to acquaint
you with the full gravity of your offence. In fact," he added, "the attitude you
have demonstrated just now minds me to increase your sentence. You will serve
365 days of community service instead of the 180 that I felt you originally
deserved. Do you have anything further to say to this court, Williams?" "No,
Your Honour," said Sarah quickly. "Good," the judge smiled. "The first part of
the sentence will be carried out tomorrow morning in the main town square. You
will be held in custody overnight and then brought into the presence of the
pillory for your public punishment."

He paused briefly before continuing. "Let this be a lesson to you, Williams, and
to all others who think that they can transgress the law with impunity."

Sarah was led away, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had a good idea that
her time in the pillory was not going to be at all pleasant. Sarah had already
seen many local girls, especially the whores, hanging for hours in the pillory
while the crowd pelted them with abuse, rotten vegetables and anything else that
came to hand.

Morning came, and Sarah was led out to face the waiting crowd. There was always
a large number of people only too anxious to watch a pretty girl being punished
in the pillory. Especially when they got to help out with her punishment!

Sarah was led out on to the main public square of the town. Her wrists were
handcuffed behind her back, her legs fixed in metal shackles, and a huge
ball-gag firmly placed in her silently protesting mouth.

The crowd burst out laughing at the sight, almost baying for blood. They quickly
surrounded Sarah and only the presence of the two burly policemen who were
bringing her to the pillory prevented them from manhandling the poor girl. She
stared at the people gathered round, her eyes pleading for mercy. But this crowd
was in no mood to show her any kind of mercy. All they wanted was to see her
suffer abuse and insults in the pillory.

Sarah gazed upon the wooden construction that was to be her instrument of
torment for goodness only knew how long. Since the new laws had come in, some
victims had been left in these infernal devices for up to 24 hours. In spite of
the warmth of the day, Sarah shivered as she hoped that her ordeal would be a
brief one.

There were two posts on either side of the pillory, with two boards placed
horizontally across it. In the centre of the twin boards was an opening for the
girl's neck, with two much smaller holes to hold her wrists. A steel band was
also set in the centre of the pillory, its purpose to secure the victim by her
waist. A padlock was attached to the band which, when locked, removed even the
slightest possibility of escape.

As Sarah stood before the pillory, trembling, one of the policemen unlocked the
padlock. He turned to the crowd theatrically and said, "By the sentence of the
court, Sarah Williams has been found guilty of theft. The decree of the court is
that Williams shall serve the first part of her punishment in the pillory.
However, as is the custom, it shall be for the good citizens of this town to
decide the manner and duration of her punishment. What say you, then, to the
question of how Williams shall be punished? Shall it be clothed or naked?"
"Naked!" came the unanimous roar from the crowd. "Strip the bitch naked for her
just punishment!"

Sarah stared at the people around her in disbelief and shame. She noted sourly
that the women of the town were as eager as the men to see her body stripped and
abused in public.

"Naked it shall be, then," the officer announced the decision. "And as to time -
how many hours shall Williams stand before you naked in the pillory? One, two,
four, six, eight, sixteen, or twenty-four?" "Let the bitch stay there for
twenty-four hours!" came the unanimous cry of the crowd.

Now fresh tears flowed once more down Sarah's cheeks. 24 hours naked in the
pillory! Could she stand it for so long? And how bad would it be? She shivered
once more at the prospect that faced her.

The rough hands of the policemen stripped Sarah of every vestige of clothing.
Her shoes were removed first, then her T-shirt, then her jeans, and then her
tights. She now stood before the crowd dressed only in her bra and knickers. As
Sarah stood there mortified, exposed to public shame, the policemen addressed
the crowd again.

"Let all who wish come forward and examine the bitch Williams before she faces
her just punishment. Two at a time, please."

Eagerly, the men rushed forward, intent on one of the favourite parts of
pillorying a woman. Sarah knew what was coming but the reality still surprised
her.

Rough hands, two at a time, fondled her large breasts, squeezed the cheeks of
her arse, and probed and teased the soft flesh of her pubic regions. Sarah wept
again with the shame and humiliation of it all. When they had finished, each man
also took good care to pull on the straps of her bra as hard as he could before
letting to. The crowd roared with laughter as Sarah flinched away from the
snapping of the bra straps on the flesh of her back. She wondered what else they
would get up to before the worst part of her punishment began. It was not long
before she found out.

The policemen removed her bra and knickers before making Sarah face the crowd in
unadorned nakedness. Her face blushed with the shame of it all, which of course
made the crowd laugh even more. Then, for the briefest of moments, Sarah was
free. The policemen removed the cuffs from her wrists and then the shackles from
her legs, even though they took good care to keep her held while they unlocked
her.

If Sarah gasped for a moment at the relief of her brief freedom, her joy was
short-lived. With an obviously practiced efficiency, her head and arms were
quickly fitted into the hole designed to contain her neck. Then her wrists were
placed into the twin holes intended to fasten them securely. The steel band was
fitted around her waist and shut tightly. Her ordeal would start soon.

Then one of the police officers snapped shut the padlock, turning a combination
on it for good measure. It was now not only impossible for Sarah to escape from
the pillory, but also extremely difficult for her to move at all. That was, of
course, the intention of the deliberately rigid bondage into which she had been
so cruelly placed.

Sarah, who was only 5ft 4 inches tall, found even the height of the pillory
oppressive. Her small chin was forced to push down hard down on the bottom
board, adding to her discomfort. Her hands, of course, were fastened in place
very securely indeed by the twin wrist holes. The crowd roared with delight at
seeing the young girl locked firmly into her uncomfortable place, only her head
and wrists protruding through the holes. Her legs and the lower part of her body
were not shackled, though this was not an act of mercy, but designed
deliberately with the intention of increasing her suffering.

Sarah stood, or rather hung there, her head and wrists firmly encased in their
wooden prison, to the delight of the crowd. She was forced to arch her back and
keep her legs as tightly together as possible, realising that any other position
would be even more uncomfortable for her to maintain, especially over a period
of 24 hours. Not that she could move around much in the pillory anyway. Her
posture was the best in the difficult state of affairs that she found herself in
at present.

The senior policeman then turned to her for a minute before the commencement of
the main event. "Williams, having been found justly guilty by the sentence of
the court, you are about to receive your well-deserved punishment." Removing her
gag at last, he asked her, "Do you have anything to say to the crowd before
sentence is carried out upon you?"

Sarah thought for a moment about pleading with them for mercy, but one look at
the faces of the crowd made her realise how hopeless and futile a gesture that
would have been. A mixture of lust and cruelty played over their faces, and she
knew that it would only humiliate her further even to try to appeal to their
better nature.

"No, sir," she said, after a moment's thought. "Good. Then let the sentence of
the court be carried out on the person of this reprobate criminal!" the
policeman shouted to the crowd. "Unload the ammunition!"

From a waiting van, boxes of rotten fruit, rotten eggs, vegetables and tomatoes
suddenly appeared, as well as boxes of custard pies.

The crowd seized the missiles eagerly. Men, women and children all grabbed an
egg, a tomato, a maggoty apple, a custard pie, and began hurling them at the
unfortunate victim, held fast in the pillory, hardly able to move at all, still
less dodge the well-aimed and continual hail of missiles.

Sarah, helpless in her wooden prison, was hit by a steady stream of rotten
eggs,tomatoes, apples, cabbages and custard pies. Though the day was hot,
yesterday it had rained, and the crowd also seized clumps of mud from the slowly
drying earth. The mud, of course, hurt more than the other missiles targeting
her, but all of them were extremely unpleasant.

The filthy garbage struck her full in the face, again and again and again. The
crowd's determination was relentless and their accuracy impressive. Soon Sarah's
light brown hair was thickly coated with the foul stuff that was being hurled at
her. Her face was also covered with dripping "gunge." Nor could she move at all,
even to dodge some of the missiles, much less escape from the constant torment
that assailed her from all quarters. Her face and head were constantly hit, but
Sarah consoled herself with the fact that at least her body was not suffering
much. Only the very occasional missile managed to hit her below the region of
her exposed head.

In spite of herself, for all the shame she felt, and even though she knew it
would make no difference to the behaviour of the crowd, Sarah had grown
desperate. With tears trickling through the foul stuff that coated her smeared
and now bruised and slightly bleeding face, she pleaded forlornly with the
crowd, but of course in vain.

"Please, don't hurt me any more, please," she sobbed. "This really hurts and
surely I don't deserve this much punishment?" 

The crowd only laughed. There only response was to throw even more missiles than
before, faster and harder. Sarah wept in her pain and humiliation, while the
crowd just kept on targeting the helpless girl in her prison of wood.

Although it seemed to Sarah as if her punishment lasted for days, it was only
two hours before the crowd had almost run out of ammunition. By that time her
hair and whole face was coated with slimy eggs, rotten tomatoes, cabbages and
custard pies. Some of the food by now had found its way into her mouth and ears,
even her eyes. The morass of swill was not only continuing to run all down her
face and all over her head, it was also slowly drying on her skin and congealing
in the hot sun.

The van driver then went off to collect yet more missiles to throw at Sarah.
However, there was still enough gungy stuff to hand to keep the "entertainment"
going. A man picked up an egg and walked over to Sarah, slowly and deliberately.

"Enjoy your eggs, cunt," he laughed, breaking the egg right on her forehead. The
crowd roared as its shell cracked and the slimy white and yoke ran all down the
young girl's face and hair.

Sarah was not only frightened, humiliated and in pain from her pillorying. The
stench of the rotten food was making her feel extremely nauseous.

Then the crowd, with the supply of regular missiles almost exhausted, and still
waiting for the van to return with fresh supplies, picked up the plentiful
supplies of dog-shit that lay to hand. There were numerous dogs in the square,
all watching the "fun" excitedly. Naturally, they deposited quantities of shit
everywhere. The crowd started picking up the dog-shit and deliberately hurling
it right into Sarah's unprotected face.

"Gotcha, bitch!" yelled one delighted man, as he caught the young girl right in
the middle of her face. "Shit for a piece of shit!" the crowd yelled.

Sarah's pelting with dog-shit lasted for a full ten minutes before the van
returned with fresh supplies. By now, the poor girl had been pelted continuously
in the pillory for almost three hours.

Sarah's cramped body was in agony as she hung there, being pelted with refuse
and dog-shit, and also having to listen to the insulting remarks of the local
people. Even her "friends" joined in the mocking.

There was a brief pause while the crates of fresh ammunition were being
unloaded. For Sarah it was a blessed, if temporary, relief. However, her ordeal
still continued on the mental level.

The crowd began to make lewd comments about her. "Fat slag! Big-titted slut!
Fat-arsed bitch! Fucking whore!" were just some of the insults thrown at her.
Then, in the interval between replenishing the missiles, they wandered up to her
and spat deliberately in her face. "Take that, cunt!" and similar obscene
comments about her were made while they were doing it. Then the men surged
forward, getting behind the pillory, and deliberately pawing and groping her
tits and cunt and arse. Sarah wept in her shame and humiliation.

The day continued with a steady stream of new eggs, tomatoes, cabbages, rotten
fruit and dog-shit coming her way. Sarah, her eyes almost closed up under the
assault of filth that covered her face, was gasping for breath by now. Yet it
seemed that whenever she tried to take a breath of air she only received a
mouthful of stinking eggs or vegetables or worse.

Then a new method of attack opened. A crate was dragged on either side of Sarah
and she was targetted from close range. An egg from each side was deliberately
broken into her left and right ear. Then the missiles were thrown into her face
from close range. All the time, the crowd continued to pelt her from the front.
There was no escape for Sarah from her misery. The close-range attack on her
face and head continued unrelentingly, and from that range they could hardly
miss.



Meanwhile the van returned for its third visit to the town square. This time,
its contents were different. As the crowd continued pelting Sarah, in the
background, the sound of can-openers could be heard. When the tins were finally
opened, their contents were brought over to the waiting crowd.

Now the people eagerly grabbed their cans. There were tins of beans, tomatoes,
rice pudding and custard. They moved in close and deliberately emptied the
contents over the luckless Sarah. Her hair, already a mess from the pelting, was
now deluged with the contents of the cans. It became a mess of beans and
custard, squashed tomatoes and soggy rice pudding.

"Here's a little treat for you, you fucking bitch!" one man called out, as he
smashed a chocolate fudge cake into her slime-covered face. "And here's
another," said another man, as he emptied a carton of yoghurt over her head.

The assault on Sarah's face and head continued in this fashion for around an
hour before, once again, the crowd ran out of ammunition. Then the woman whose
store Sarah had robbed came up with an idea that had the crowd in fits of
laughter."Let's get some jars of honey and treacle!" she called out. "We'll pour
them all over the thieving bitch!"

The crowd just LOVED her idea. So the van made another journey to get the honey
and treacle. When it arrived back, the crowd unscrewed the jars and opened the
tins in eager anticipation. They KNEW that this part of Sarah's ordeal would be
one of the most unpleasant of all.

It was bad enough having the gungy stuff poured all over her face and hair, but
the sweet sticky contents of the jars and cans soon attracted the unwelcome
attentions of a swarm of flies and other insects. It was not long before they
were swarming all over Sarah's naked body as it hung unprotected in the pillory.

Sarah screamed at first with the discomfort of it all. Then she screamed as a
wasp stung her. For the first time the crowd started to show some concern for
her.

"Here, we've got to watch out for the wasps," one man said. "It's all right if
just one or two sting the bitch but if a swarm lands on her she could die. And
then we'd miss out on the chance of more fun with her in the stocks tomorrow.
AND the whipping post. AND the year of "community service" too."

Reluctantly, the crowd agreed, not out of any pity or sympathy for Sarah, but
out of the realisation that they did not want to forgo their coming fun at the
young girl's expense! The only dissenting voice came from the woman whose shop
Sarah had robbed. "Let the fucking bitch die!" she shouted. But she was outvoted
by the others.

So they saw to it that the wasps were kept away from Sarah, though not before
she had been stung four times by them. They were, of course, happy to leave her
with flies and other insects busy crawling all over her.

As if what had happened already was not bad enough, Sarah found herself
subjected to yet more humiliation. As she hung in agony and despair on her
wooden prison, she saw a group of half a dozen people, led by the senior police
officer, approaching her, each carrying a bucket in either hand. Sarah groaned
inwardly as she guessed that the contents of the pails would be thrown over her,
and also guessing that, whatever it was inside them, it was sure to be
unpleasant and foul-smelling.

"We decided you stink so much already, you might need a little washing down,"
the officer said, grinning. Buckets of slops from the local pub were then thrown
over the helpless girl, at first from a short distance and then from close
range, bucket upon bucket being emptied directly over her head and shoulders.

Sarah's hair was by now a completely gunged-up mess, and her face, as well as
parts of her body, was drenched in a slimy cocktail of filth - rice pudding,
honey, treacle, eggs, custard pies, beans,tomatoes and mud, and the "slopwash"
had only made things worse for Sarah as it only washed off the looser slimy
bits, not the ingrained filth.

It also meant, as she discovered when the crowd began pelting her furiously once
again, that it allowed more of the newly arrived gunge to stick. The volleys of
rotting matter coming her way continued for another few hours. Eventually, the
crowd got bored, and only a few hardy souls remained. It was now eight o'clock
in the evening, and Sarah had been stuck in the pillory, being pelted with all
kinds of filthy mess, since eight o'clock that morning. She had long since
retreated into a world of her own, trying to shut out the horror she was
undergoing. Come eight p.m., though, the crowd melted away, partly to have their
evening meals or go out for other, more normal kinds of entertainment. Largely,
though, they had simply run out of ammunition.

A few people remained to mock her, spit in her face, and throw whatever
ammunition they could find at her. After a while, even they gave up. Sarah hung
there in the pillory, but by 9.30 at night she was alone at last.

Then, at midnight, she had an unexpected visitor. Though Sarah did not know it,
she was about to become the latest victim of the town's serial rapist. He came
up behind her, feeling her up. Sarah moaned in her agony but was of course
helpless to defend herself. He spanked her arse a few times before getting out
his prick and shoving it right up her cunt, brutally. When he'd finished, he
simply pissed on her naked body. Sarah could only weep.

In the morning, they would come for her at last, and set her free from the
infernal device of the pillory. However, Sarah knew that she also faced the
stocks, the whipping post, and the prospect of a year's "community service." She
knew that today had just been the first day of her descent into a living hell. 

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