Two women face a new style of justice

By Duncan Wade

David Smart looked at the smartly dressed ladies sat in front of him, looked sideways towards Miss Drinkwater, paused for a moment, and then nodded. Miss Drinkwater flashed a smile and nodded back, then the 50-something former solicitor took a deep breath and spoke.

“Mrs Julie Atkins and Mrs Emma Moss, you have been found guilty as charged, and I sentence you both to 6 weeks detention. You have one hour to collect a small bag of personal items before you are taken to one of the new floating prisons I eluded to yesterday. Have either of you anything to say?”

Julie and Emma both burst into tears on hearing the worst possible news and hugged one another.

While still holding Julie, Emma fought back her tears and replied, “Surely this is too harsh? Is there not a fine we can pay? Please don’t send us to one of those places. We only had a drink and an argument with a policeman.”

David Smart waited for Julie to compose herself as she delved into her jacket pocket to find a tissue. When she had dabbed her eyes, he answered Emma.

“We don’t really do fines anymore, Mrs Moss. So few people have got any money to pay them with. You are in an enviable financial position, of course. Your husband is an army officer and with your latest promotion in the bank, you could easily afford any fine I could legally impose. You could also pay Mrs Atkins’ fine as well. What punishment would that be?”

He again looked at the smug blonde Miss Drinkwater who was filling in some paperwork on the edge of the small conference table. When she put her pen down she gathered up the papers and stood next to her boss, saying loudly, “Both sets of papers for you, sir. Custodial and CP option.”

Immediately, Emma asked, “CP option? What’s that?”

Julie hadn’t taken her eyes off Miss Drinkwater and hated her with a passion. She could just tell that the ‘CP option’ was something to do with her.

“Yes, well ladies, now you know where you stand. As it happens, I do have an alternative punishment to offer you; one that can be administered after you have given your written consent that Miss Drinkwater has prepared.” To demonstrate, he held up the paperwork.

Julie and Emma looked at one another again, and this time Julie spoke. “So, you are saying that if we take this punishment, whatever it is, we won’t be sent away?”

“Quite so, Mrs Atkins, and you won’t have a criminal record either. The notes will just refer to a warning being given,” Mr Smart replied.

Julie and Emma looked brighter as he continued. “To explain further, ladies, during the first lockdown way back in 2019 when the new virus really started to take hold, most people complied with the then civilian government’s instruction to stay indoors. However, with each of the following lockdowns more and more people ignored the government’s advice and so the virus kept spreading. After some high profile breeches of the rules from some government officials and celebrities, the situation got even worse with many bankruptcies, riots, millions out of work, and so forth.”

“Yes, but what has this got to do with our situation?” snapped an impatient Julie.

“Yes, Mrs Atkins, I’m coming to that. So, after the New Order took over, it was agreed that some discipline needed to be put back into society. After all, we’d had decades of lax and weak schools and parents, so a pilot program of Corporal Punishment has been Incorporated into the Local Justice system. It’s intended to apply to young adults primarily, so at 34 and 37 you are technically too old to be offered the CP option, but after discussing your case with my superiors last night, it has been agreed I can offer you this option. In days gone by, it would come under the heading of a short sharp shock.”

Mr Smart then motioned to Miss Drinkwater to continue, and he sat down.

“Thank you, Mr Smart. So, ladies, as you have heard from the Local Justice Officer, you have the option of receiving corporal punishment today. We will adjourn for 15 minutes for you to make your minds up. It’s a straight choice between 6 weeks in a floating prison or 6 strokes of the cane on your bare bottoms. Any questions, ladies?”

Julie stood up and asked a question she suspected she already knew the answer to. “Who will be doing the caning?”

Miss Drinkwater answered with a thin smile. “I will be.” With that, she and Mr Smart headed downstairs for some light refreshments.

Julie and Emma sat in silence for a few moments, then Emma got up and went over to the papers on the table.

“So, where do you think we sign? At the bottom?”

Julie was still sat in a state of shock.

“You think we should take the cane, then?” mumbled Julie.

“We don’t have any option, do we? Six weeks on a prison ship, or six of the cane. Let’s just get it over with, shall we? Quickly, before they change their minds and we are banged up in some medieval-style lesbian horror ship,” replied Emma, trying to smile.

When the two officials returned to the conference room, Emma and Julie stood up.

Mr Smart came straight to the point. “Mrs Atkins, Mrs Moss, have you reached a decision yet?”

“Yes,” replied Emma. “We will take the CP option. We have both read and signed the paperwork, and completed the questionnaire.”

Miss Drinkwater quickly examined the forms and gave a nod to Mr Smart. “Yes, they are suitable.”

He then addressed the two accused. “A wise decision, ladies. Miss Drinkwater will organise the instrument of correction while I write a short report. It’s going to be one at a time, ladies, so who wants to go first?”

“I will,” Emma replied quickly, adding, “It will give Julie some time to compose herself.”

“Any objection, Miss Drinkwater?” asked Mr Smart.

“No,” came her reply.

“Very well, Mrs Atkins come with me. Mrs Moss, you should wait here for Miss Drinkwater to return.

Emma sat in silence for some while until the door opened and Miss Drinkwater came in. Emma gasped as she spotted the long, light-coloured rattan cane.

“OK, Emma, let’s have a quick chat and get this over with, shall we?” smiled Miss Drinkwater.

Emma was slightly taken aback by the suddenly chatty tone, and replied, “Yes, let’s.”

“Emma, can I ask have you ever had anything like this done to you before?”

‘Well, yes, but only gently in fun,” Emma blushed.

“I’m afraid this will be neither fun nor gently,” Miss Drinkwater stated as she took out an anti-bacterial wipe and wiped the full length of the cane.

“So, not a total novice, then. If you’re ready, shall we begin?”

With a hand gesture, Miss Drinkwater motioned for Emma to join her next to the conference table.

“Right, Emma, please lower your trousers and knickers, please.”

Emma closed her eyes for a moment, then unclipped the waist band of her grey trousers and let them fall around the tops of her shoes. Then, as she bent from the waist over the polished conference table, she pushed her pale pink G- string down.

Charlotte Drinkwater stood for a moment, slightly taken aback by the sight of Emma’s pale bottom. Then she stepped forward and pulled the tail of Emma’s white shirt up over her back.

Touching Emma’s bottom with the cane in order to check her distance, Miss Drinkwater cleared her throat and said, “’OK, Emma, deep breath, here goes.”

Emma didn’t reply, just shifted her legs slightly further apart causing her G-string to descend a little lower down to almost her knees. She took a gulp of air and waited for the first stoke to land. A millisecond later, she heard a great whooping sound as Miss Drinkwater’s cane cut through the air and landed its stinging calling card on her bare bottom. Emma let out a short, “Ooo.”

Before she could draw another breath, another woosh and the cane landed again. She yelped in pain.

Emma heard Miss Drinkwater’s shoes click-clacking on the wooden floor as she took a few steps forward and brought the cane down on her upturned bottom. Emma’s knees gave way momentarily, but she quickly regained her position bending at the waist over the table. Her face now rested on its polished surface.

Then Miss Drinkwater spoke. “Halfway through, Emma, keep your bottom pushed out. We’re nearly done.”

With that, another stroke landed, leaving another red angry line across Emma’s bottom. Emma gasped loudly and let out her loudest “Oooo” yet. She started to drum her heels against the floor in an attempt to distract herself from the stinging pain. Miss Drinkwater had to remind her to keep still as she delivered strokes five and six almost together.

Emma let out a long, “Arrrg!” knowing that her ordeal was finally over.

Miss Drinkwater took stock. She was quietly pleased she had managed to leave six separate angry red lines almost perfectly spaced out across Emma’s bottom, and went over to help the now-crying Emma.

“There! All done. Gosh, you took your punishment very well, I must say, Emma. You can get dressed again and join Mr Smart downstairs when you’re ready.”

Emma gingerly pulled her G-string and trousers back up, dabbed her eyes with another tissue from her jacket pocket and said, “Thank you,” before slowly heading for the door.

As she approached the stairwell, the conference room door opened behind her and Miss Drinkwater called out to her. “Oh, Emma, send Mrs Atkins up, please.”

Emma nodded. When she reached the small reception area downstairs, Julie came rushing over to her.

“Are you alright? How bad was it?” She noticed straight away that Emma’s eye make-up had run and that she was walking slowly and stiffly.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Emma lied in a quiet, slightly shaky, voice as she tried to reassure her friend. “She’s waiting for you.”

Julie started slowly up the stairs to the conference room. She stopped after a few steps and nervously asked Emma, “Not too bad?”

Emma smiled rather feebly in an attempt to reassure her friend, so Julie quickly made her way up the stairs and stood front of the conference table in exactly the same position Emma had recently been standing.

Miss Drinkwater was expecting a more difficult time with the more timid Julie, so she made a point of exerting her authority straight away.

“OK, Mrs Atkins, I just want to remind you that you have agreed in writing to accept the punishment awarded. Failure to submit to the application of that punishment can result in up to two additional strokes which may be imposed without the need for any further documentation or consent. Is that clear?”

“It is,” replied a subdued Julie.

“Very well, Mrs Atkins, let’s begin, shall we?” Miss Drinkwater picked up the cane and wiped it with another anti-bacterial wipe. “Take down your knickers and tights, Mrs Atkins, and bend over the table, please.”

Julie rolled her eyes as she reached under her navy-blue pleated skirt for the waistband of her white cotton knickers.

“Actually, they’re stockings, not tights,” Julie spat sarcastically.

Miss Drinkwater chose not to reply. She was just pleased Julie had taken her knickers down quickly and without too much fuss. As Julie bent over the desk, her loose-fitting pleated navy skirt was still covering her bottom.

“Please pull your skirt well up above your waist, please Mrs Atkins.” Miss Drinkwater requested. “We don’t want it getting in the way, do we? You can remove it completely, if you prefer.”

“What difference does it make?” Julie asked resentfully.

“The rules require each stroke of the cane to land wholly on your bare bottom, Mrs Atkins. If a stroke lands even slightly on your clothing, then I have to reapply that stroke. Those are the rules. I’d advise that if you think for one moment your skirt might fall back and cover a part of your bottom, then you’d be well advised to stand up and remove it.”

Julie slowly got up and unzipped her skirt. She let it fall to the floor surrounding her smart court shoes. She gave Miss Drinkwater a withering look as she bent over again.

The official took a quick moment to survey the scene before her. Julie Atkins was bending over the table with her skirt round the tops of her shoes and her knickers round the tops of her dark-blue hold-up stockings. Her bottom was slightly rounder than her friend’s. and slightly fuller.

Miss Drinkwater measured the distance with the cane touching Julie’s bottom cheeks, then cleared her throat and said, “OK, Mrs Atkins, I’m about to start. Take a deep breath.”

Any mettle Julie had disappeared as soon as the first stinging stroke landed on her bare bottom. As with Emma’s punishment, Miss Drinkwater landed the second stroke immediately after the first.

Julie screamed at the top of her voice, “Arrrg!” She stood up clutching her pained bottom.

“Bend over, Mrs Atkins. I will add another stroke if you do that again.”

“Really? You expect me to bend over just lie there while you whip my backside with that thing? You’re joking!”

“Mrs Atkins, I have a job to do and you have agreed to accept this punishment. Now, I suggest you bend over and remain still. Take your discipline like Mrs Moss did, in a ladylike and dignified manner, and you can soon be on your way out of this place.”

“Ladylike and dignified?” snorted Julie as she bent back over the table. “There’s nothing ladylike about taking your knickers down and having someone whip your backside!”

Miss Drinkwater walked over to the bending Julie and whispered in her ear. “Just remember, if you say another word or in any way obstruct your punishment, I’m going to have you taken to prison. Do you understand? Just one word!”

Julie nodded and sniffed back her tears.

Miss Drinkwater got ready to resume and said in her normal tone, “For that outburst, Mrs Atkins, I will be adding one additional stroke.”

Julie sighed as she resigned herself to her fate. She tried to keep as quiet as possible as the strokes rained down. Miss Drinkwater was really laying them on hard and fast, and in just under a minute she announced, “Last one.”

The cane then lashed Julie’s bare backside for the final time. She stepped out of her knickers, not able to stand anything against her stinging bottom, and reached down and pulled up her skirt. Tears were running down her bright red face as Miss Drinkwater came over and held out her hand.

“No hard feelings, I hope, Mrs Atkins. I really didn’t want you to go to prison.”

Julie left one hand soothing her sore bottom while the other took Miss Drinkwater’s hand.

“No, no hard feelings. It just was so painful, although I’m sure prison would have been awful in other ways.”

A few moments later, Mr Smart handed both Emma and Julie an official letter, signed to say they had received a warning and the matter was now closed.

The End

© Duncan Wade 2021