Women's Prison

by James Nash

  Suddenly she cried out as she felt cold air on her bottom through her thin panties, convinced that it was the down stroke of the cane, but nothing happened. She heard voices and knew that the woman stood immediately behind her, talking to the man with the cane. She heard it swish through the air once more and she shrieked out, convinced now that this was all part of the sadistic build up. Oh please God, get on with it! Punish me and get it over! Oh Christ!, would she be able to stand the pain? She had no idea what corporal punishment was like. Oh please get on with it! She knew it was only seconds away now before her sentence was carried out and she tried to think of things to calm her down, her Mom and Dad, her sister, Debbie and Jo. What would happen when she got home? Dad would want to know chapter and verse! Mom she would confess all to, every detail of her shame, maybe, sometime, quietly in her bedroom when it was dark and she did not have to look her Mom in the face, just hold her hand ... but tell Dad about this shameful caning? Oh God, how could she? How could she ever?

  The woman who was supervising proceedings looked down with grim satisfaction at Jane’s slender trembling body firmly secured across the punishment bench and her squat ugly features creased into a half smile. These frail Europeans with their tender skin are just like fragile spring flowers, she thought gleefully. So confident, so arrogant, so sure they could work the system ... until they got caught. Then they wept and trembled just as this little flower was doing now as she waited for her just desserts. Serve her right, the woman thought, these Western countries are too soft on their pampered young girls with too much money to spend and too little sense. So they amuse themselves at our expense, corrupting our people, paying them to conspire in this squalid trade in human misery. The woman was angry. If it were not for these spoilt little princesses and their capitalist resources, the drugs trade would not flourish in the way it did.

  She looked down with an utter lack of compassion at the trembling, slender buttocks, thrust up for punishment, quivering with fear through the thin stupid underpants these Western girls wore, simply for fashion ... and of course sex appeal. They provided no sensible purpose other than the most fundamental elements of modesty. The woman grinned. She knew all about modesty and how much these silly little girls valued it! She had much experience of supervising canings such as this one and knew that to allow these stupid young women some modesty when they mounted the bench was sensible, otherwise hysteria broke out and it was often five minutes before the frantic young girl could be contained by her officers and forcibly strapped down. That mistake had been made in the early days, but not anymore. Now the final step was taken when the girl was manacled and helpless, and her reactions always added a little piquancy to the occasion! The girl was now ready for her punishment to start ... almost! There was just this last small task to perform! Her eyes glittering with anticipation at the reaction which would result, the woman reached out her strong firm hand to the waist of the trembling, as yet unsuspecting, girl.

  Rrrrriiiiipppp! Jane’s eyes widened with horror and shock and she screamed out loud in sudden, dreadful, overwhelming humiliation as her panties were ripped clean off with one sudden violent wrench.

  “NOOOOOOOOOO! ...OH MY GOD!... NOOOOOOOOO!” the scream became a desperate choking plea as Jane’s already tortured senses tried to come to terms with what they had done. Blinded by tears now, a lump in her throat as she tried to swallow, every breath she took aching with the pain and shame of her situation, Jane sobbed and gulped as she absorbed the full implications of her humiliation. Her worst fears had been realised! The half voiced dread which she had pushed to the back of her mind had become fact! No wonder Mr. Lien had turned away in embarrassment when she asked what she would wear! What a fool she must have seemed to him! He had known how it would be, known the degree of ritual humiliation to which she would be exposed ... and he had turned away, afraid to tell her!

  Through her tears of shame, Jane heard the woman giving final instructions and she thought of how she must look. She heard the magistrates behind her coughing with just a hint of slightly excited breathing. Who was it? Jane couldn’t tell but she guessed they were aroused and excited at the sight. She closed her eyes as she pictured how she must look. She was lying across the punishment bench completely naked, her bare white bottom raised for their delectation and her legs apart. Oh God, what she must be showing! The tears burned down her face and she began another paroxysm of helpless and degraded sobbing.

  The woman and the police officer holding the cane exchanged glances and he swished the cane through the air again, eliciting a terrified shriek from the shocked and panic stricken girl whose vulnerable naked bottom now lay exposed to his gaze. The woman smiled as she noticed the bulge in his trousers and both of them looked down at the source of his arousal. The girl was so slender and frightened, perhaps too slim for the woman’s sexual taste, her bottom too small and her waist too narrow. Yet there was tremendous sexual excitement building up inside the woman, for she knew from experience this fragile flower would feel pain intensely. The girl had already suffered the humiliation of being laid naked for her punishment, but she would now feel the weight of a bamboo cane for the first time in her life. The woman was certain that this was indeed a virgin bottom which had never suffered any physical retribution and she could hardly wait for the girl’s reactions to pain. Sometimes they were very interesting ... and surprising, too!

  The woman grinned as she looked down at her sobbing victim, staring at the snow white buttocks trembling in anticipation of pain to come and she looked below, beneath the parted legs to the tight, neat little vulva clearly on display amid a cluster of fine blonde pubic hair. The slit was pink and tight and the woman caught her breath. A young virgin she was almost sure ... in every respect. She looked hard at the almost closed lips of the girl’s vagina, convinced that nothing harder than a tampon had ever penetrated that tender orifice. She wondered idly whether the young girl, who was already quaking with fear and crying intensely, would lose control during punishment. She had been tempted to refuse the request for toilet facilities before the girl was punished but that would have been too cruel ... and too easy! So much more satisfying if her colleague’s skilled use of the cane could induce the girl to lose control during punishment, even after being given the opportunity to relieve herself. That would be truly satisfying ... and would mean the girl getting six extra strokes! It would be very exciting! The woman was very happy with the job in hand and at last she looked up and spoke tersely to the police officer with the cane.

  Jane, by now close to complete hysteria as much from the suspense of waiting and the shame of her exposure as from the fear of the punishment, squealed as she felt the cold edge of the bamboo cane. The policeman was stroking her bare buttocks with the implement in a brief exploration of the curve of her bottom. She flinched and clenched her bottom cheeks, to the amusement of the policeman, who ran his cane over them again to achieve a similar effect. She cried out again, a helpless wail as she realised how totally exposed for physical punishment she was, her intimate openings visible to the men behind her as she lay helpless and manacled. The sobbing was violent and incessant now as she visualised the monstrous bamboo cane only seconds away and the pain it would inflict on her naked bottom.

  Jane, on an impulse, suddenly raised her head. Through the blur of her tears she could see the people behind the observation window on the edge of their seats, mouths open, all of them, the women too, excited by her impending punishment. She could see the policemen in front of her around the walls, sardonic grins on their faces as they revelled in her helpless terror. She was a criminal ... to be degraded and punished!

  She lowered her head and just for a split second she heard the fiendish hiss behind her, then her sobbing turned into an ear splitting anguished scream which cut through the whole room. The policeman had brought the sturdy bamboo cane whistling down until it cracked against Jane’s bare bottom like a pistol shot. She screamed in agony as a
white hot searing pain coursed through her bottom, sending shock waves through her whole body. Jane thought she would be sick after one diabolical, dreadful stroke, but she managed to swallow the bile in her throat and lay like a gasping fish, squealing and choking.

  The policeman was a professional. He did not hurry his strokes but waited until the shock waves had begun to diminish before swinging back his arm and bringing the cane down again on the sensitive underside of her bottom. Jane screamed again and her head began to shake like a puppet, each blow having raised a livid purple weal across the soft pale skin of her buttocks. The men behind the observation window watched the cane come down and most were trembling, dry mouthed, at the sight before them. Jane, her face a mask of agony, wriggled her bottom to try, vainly, to disperse the pain but succeeded only in displaying her vulva more openly than before, the lips parting and separating, revealing the deeper pink of her inner sanctuary, before she settled herself for the next stroke, squealing with pain.

  The policeman took his time, varying the strength and the location of his strokes with great skill. After six strokes, Jane’s bottom was a bright red map with six purple weals neatly laid, one below the other, on both bottom cheeks. The young girl was no longer sobbing but one long agonised squeal emanated from her throat as the terrible pain, beyond her worst expectations, grew and grew with each successive stroke. By the twelfth stroke, Jane had forgotten her modesty, forgotten her naked buttocks and her obscenely displayed vagina, conscious only of the terrible pain which was coursing through her entire body. Her bottom was a criss cross of purple weals for he had now begun to cane aslant her buttocks, crossing the earlier strokes.

  As she shook and trembled and screamed, the cane came down again and again on her blistered bottom and then she was dimly aware of excited chatter going on behind her. Jane’s physical fortitude and self-control under punishment had so far impressed and disappointed the woman, for the girl had now taken sixteen of her twenty strokes with no calamities. Suddenly, as the policeman was about to raise his cane again, the woman looked down between Jane’s parted legs and grinned with pleasure at the trickle of urine beginning to seep down the young girl’s thighs. It soon became a flood which sprayed out of the weeping girl, drenching the board on which she knelt and spattering the wooden floor with considerable force.

  The woman stopped the punishment briefly, walked round and lifted the girl’s red and swollen face.

  “I don’t suppose you even know what you’ve done!” the woman said with contempt, forcing Jane to stare at her “You’ve wet yourself and the bench! That is inexcusable! Six extra strokes!”

  Jane shook her head in terror. “NOOOOOOO... PLEASE... NO MORE... NOOOOO!” she howled but the woman walked back to her place and the policeman again raised his cane, but the woman motioned to him to pause until the girl had finished her involuntary toilet. Jane was too far gone to feel any more shame and continued to urinate freely all over the bench and the floor, not conscious of having lost control of her bladder, for her whole bottom was a white hot epicentre of pain dulling any other sensation in the area.

  Now that the caning had paused, Jane could feel the water trickling down her legs. She lowered her head and began to weep pitifully in abject shame and misery. She felt the softness of a tissue between her legs, cleaning up the mess and she guessed that she must have finished, though it was impossible to be sure. She had no idea who was cleaning her up and was past the point of caring. She wriggled her tormented bottom as the tissue wiped down her thighs. She became aware, now there was a lull in the caning, that the pain did disperse and, although her bottom was still a fiery agony, there were other sensations too and she closed her eyes as she sensed the scalding heat permeating every nerve centre in her rear.

  She began to swallow hard as she suddenly became aware that her vagina was throbbing too, that there was a warm, rosy glow down there and that tingling, insistent throbbing had begun to build as she lay naked and in fear of what would come next. She could not believe that amid this degrading, awful punishment she was beginning to experience feelings like this! The warm, sensual burn down there in her most private place was just like the sensation she got in bed when she awoke from those dreams ... naked men holding her down, forcing it into her, laughing and grinning, queuing up in a locked bedroom as she lay helpless. Five or six men grinning down at her naked body, their penises erect and massive: the dreams she had been so ashamed of until she had read all the right books, the books which reassured her that hers were common adolescent fantasies. Now she had another erotic dream for her collection ... a dream which had become a frightening reality. She began to weep again as she lay waiting, convinced that her clitoris was distended and visible, so hot and tender did she feel down there. Oh God, with all those men watching!

  The hiatus was brief and Jane soon had cause to scream anew as the caning began again. The policeman delivered the next four strokes vertically down the shadowy cleft of Jane’s bottom, diabolical strokes which seared the tender skin around her anus, raised the pain level another notch and had Jane screaming for mercy. Then the cane returned to her lower bottom, four more almost on the junction of her thighs and she howled in terror and desperation. Finally with two more strokes, delivered so hard to the underside of her bottom that Jane was sick, flecks of vomit dripping down her chin and onto the floor, the policeman stopped and walked back to the woman who had watched the caning with obvious relish.

  “Your sentence is completed!” she said coldly and Jane lay sobbing and shaking, too far gone with pain to hear, so the woman repeated the announcement and the stricken girl cried with relief. Jane lifted her head and looked up at the observation window, her body trembling and shaking, totally out of control with pain and distress and cast her eyes down again as she realised how much the people behind the observation window had been aroused by her caning. The men were speaking excitedly into telephones while rubbing a sweat stained sleeve against the forehead. One man was shaking visibly with excitement. Jane cried in humiliation as she absorbed how much she had been publicly degraded, yet, as the pain from the caning again dispersed, she was aware once more of the rising, throbbing sensual burning in her vagina and she wriggled her bottom, feeling the soft leather against her sensitive labia.

  Jane’s own reactions surprised and dismayed her as she lay there, knowing her punishment was over. The fear was gone, for it was all over! Only the pain remained, a pain which, to her astonishment had begun to feel very stimulating indeed! Suddenly, crazily, she took a perverse pleasure in being the star attraction, lying there naked for a caning in order to arouse these men in the way she obviously had done. She felt a glow of triumph ... she had survived it, appalling though it had been. She was astonished that the sight of a young girl’s whipping could provoke such responses, but suddenly felt very naughty, very wanton about the position in which she was displayed. She had been powerless to prevent it, she had been strapped down and stripped for a severe caning and she had been angry and frightened ... but now it was over she could not resist the delicious glow in her vagina as it throbbed and moistened. Oh God, would anyone notice? Jane felt as if she was displaying herself like a whore and, rather than guilt, she experienced a strange desire to be admired, to arouse, to excite. In truth she was in shock and this was how her system was coping with it. It was as if she had taken a heady whiff of oxygen, so great was her relief. She had stopped crying and her breathing was fast and shallow.

  Her body continued to shake with the aftershock of her beating and suddenly she did begin to feel the secondary wave of pain from the livid weals which now covered her bottom and she began to wriggle her bottom with some urgency, gasping and sobbing again.

  The woman looked down at the girl as she lay wriggling and crying, and grinned at the sight of the naked bottom, every inch of which was now blood red and covered in a matrix of weals from hip to thigh. It would be over a week before those would go down, though th
e girl’s bottom would lose that bright beetroot red colour in a day or so. The woman regretted this, for it always gave her an extra tingle of sexual pleasure to watch these young girls in the prison showers later, their tear stained faces an indication of the effects of what was clearly on display below and behind, a blood red, freshly punished bottom.

  She looked below between the trembling girl’s legs and her eyebrows raised with delight. The once light pink thin lips of the girl’s tight vulva were now bright red, matching her backside, and the labia were puffy and engorged, the girl’s clitoris now discernible, stiff and swollen. Well, well, well! ... This one could be a real treasure, a young virgin disciple who was not yet aware of her own sexual responses. Looking after her would be a pleasure!

  Reluctantly the woman left the girl for a moment and walked over to the magistrates with the policeman, receiving congratulations on their administration of punishment and completing the necessary paperwork. The magistrates were clearly very satisfied with the way the punishment had been administered and the woman grinned as she watched the elderly men of authority swallowing nervously and surreptitiously adjusting their trousers.

  Jane was left lying across the bench, apparently forgotten, no attempt having been made to cover her nakedness now the punishment was over. As her senses returned and some degree of modesty too, she became hotly aware of the faces of the men behind the observation window who had made no attempt to leave, despite the punishment having been completed. Conscious of their penetrating gaze at her nakedness, Jane began to whimper in shame, at last daring to call out for some modest covering, a towel or a cloth.

  The woman prison officer looked up angrily from her chore of completing the paperwork and walked swiftly back to where the naked girl lay tied and helpless, then, raising her arm, brought her firm strong hand down sharply across the girl’s burning bottom, causing Jane to shriek afresh as the pain coursed through her body once more.