13.
“Can we go in there?” Dean Windar asked his friend, Judge Marty. “I would like to comfort her.”
The judge rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever you say, Jim. Let’s ask Richard, this is his show, really.” They strolled over to where Richard Morgan was standing in deep conversation with the film crew.
“I need to clear it with Dr. Taylor,” Morgan was telling the film crew, “But sure, we should include that. The goal is to show the whole thing from start to finish.”
“If they’re going to film, can we come in as well?” His Honor asked.
“I don’t see why not,” he replied, “Just let me check with the doc.” He disappeared through the clinic door. A moment later he reappeared, holding the door open, motioning for them all to join him.
“Would you mind if we take a minute to set up in here?” the cameraman asked.
“Take your time,” Dr. Taylor replied, “It’s not like this bitch has anything on her schedule for the rest of the day.” Sue and Beth both guffawed like it was the funniest thing they had heard in weeks. Dean Windar smiled but tried to maintain a sense of decorum in this solemn situation of judicially-mandated punishment.
As the film crew was setting up, he took the opportunity to stroll over to the gurney where Barb lay on her belly, totally limp and exhausted from her ordeal. Beth and Sue stood guard over her, though it seemed unlikely she would try to go anywhere in her depleted state.
His eyes were inevitably drawn to the tight little which he had so admired whenever he had seen her strolling on campus or at various faculty functions. It looked bad, a mess of welts and cuts. The blood had mostly stopped flowing, except for a couple of spots from which it dripped onto the disposable pad that had been placed on the gurney.
Windar reached out a hand to stroke her hair, which was soaked with sweat that had been drawn from her by the pain and her struggles on the frame. “Professor Moore, Barb, are you OK?” he asked.
She lifted her head and turned to look at him. He eyes were mostly blank, as though she had totally withdrawn into her own world of pain and humiliation. She shook her head. “It hurts so much,” she whispered.
“I know,” the Dean replied, though, the truth be told, he didn’t have any idea what she was feeling. “You just rest now. I’ve already approved a month‘s leave of absence for you at full pay and benefits. And you know the college has excellent health insurance, so you’ll get whatever care you need after they send you home.” She turned away.
Richard had explained that Barb would be kept overnight to ensure that she didn’t have access to painkillers-part of the punishment was that offenders had to endure the first and most painful night without any relief-but Dr. Taylor would likely release her in the morning, after which she could seek medical care from her own doctor as she wished.
The film crew was now ready, with one camera pointed squarely at Barb’s poor behind and the other trained on her head, in case she raised it from the gurney. The microphone was placed next to that camera to catch any imprecations that might be emitted when Barb received the tender care of Dr. Taylor.
“Alright, hold the bitch down, so I can treat her. They tend to squirm just a bit as you know,” Dr. Taylor ordered.
“Oh, I’ll say they do,” Sue cackled as she leaned her considerable weight onto Barb’s upper back. Beth climbed up on the gurney and sat on Barbs’ calves, rendering the professor almost as immobile as she’d been on the flogging frame.
Dr. Taylor wedged herself into the space between the two guards, hovering over Barb’s poor, battered ass. She reached onto a cart behind her and opened a large package of sterile gauze pads. Then, donning a pair of sterile examining gloves, she poured a generous amount of rubbing alcohol onto one of the gauze pads.
“Now, Moore, I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to sting like hell, but we have to disinfect your wounds.” Barb’s head was down, so she likely missed the look of glee on the doctor’s face as she issued her warning, but Dean Windar couldn’t miss it.
The doctor reached down and dabbed the alcohol-soaked pad onto one of the most abraded areas on Barb’s tight little ass. Suddenly, the poor professor’s body went rigid and her head jerked up. An unearthly howl issued from her lips that quickly degenerated into a string of curses.
Sue and Beth had to lean in with all their weight to keep Moore still enough that the doctor could swab the area thoroughly and none too gently. Windar watched her writhing, imagining how it would feel to be fucking her as she bucked like a wild bronco.
“Hold still, bitch!” Dr. Taylor yelled. “This is a clinic, not a whorehouse like you’re probably used to, and I have a fucking job to do!”
That did little to calm Barb’s struggles as the alcohol penetrated deep into her wounds, re-igniting the fire that had abated slightly when the caning ended.
It took a good ten minutes and most of the swabs and the bottle of alcohol, but Dr. Taylor finally appeared satisfied with the job she had done. Then, as a final check, she bent over Moore’s prone body, reaching between her legs. Beth shifted her weight so that the doctor could spread Moore’s thighs to give her better access.
“What the fuck?” the doctor exclaimed. “Did George get her on the coochie?”
“Damn straight he did!” Sue exclaimed. “The bitch had it coming!”
Richard shook his head. “It’s against regulations, of course,” he whispered to the judge and the Dean, “But accidents can happen in the heat of a caning.” Windar doubted it had been an accident, but it wasn’t his call.
“Ha, ha, tell him I said ‘nice work’!” the doctor said, grinning. “”Now, I’d better disinfect there, just to be safe. Hold her down real good,” she ordered. Sue pressed down hard on Barb’s shoulders, while Beth sat back down on Barb’s legs.
The doctor soaked another gauze pad with alcohol and dabbed it in between Moore’s legs. That set off another round of howls and vigorous struggles and curses. Finally, the doctor was satisfied. Beth got off the gurney and Sue let go of Barb’s shoulders.
“No fucking for a while, Moore, you hear. Though I don’t know who’d want a dumb-ass slut like you,” the doctor said. She took one of the remaining gauze pads and squirted some white cream on it. “Don’t worry, this won’t hurt,” she told Barb and began spreading it liberally over the damaged flesh of Barb’s poor tight little ass.
From the lack of motion and cries from the professor, Dean Windar could see that the doctor had been truthful that this phase of the treatment wasn’t painful and might even be soothing.
Soon, Dr. Moore’s buttocks were slathered in the cream. “Now for the good part,” the doctor said, a big grin on her face. Dispensing with the gauze pads for this more delicate procedure, she spread a large bead of the cream on the gloved fingers of her right hand and reached between Barb’s legs.
Windar couldn’t see exactly what the doctor’s fingers were doing, but in the silence of the room, he could hear Barb’s breathing and see the little twitches of her leg muscles and the curling of her toes. He moved quietly around so that he was standing in front of her.
Her eyes were closed, but he hoped she could sense his presence. She was moaning softly now as the doctor continued her medically necessary care of the wounded girl parts. For a moment Barb’s eyes opened and he smiled at her.
“That’s it you slut, come for the cameras! That’ll make this film worth twice as much,” the doctor urged.
“Yeah, professor, show us what you got!” Beth urged.
Windar wanted to add his encouragement, but decided to see what Barb would do. Earlier, when she was strapped onto the frame, Dr. Moore had, in the end, resisted her natural urges and cursed out the doctor, winning herself an additional cane stroke for her troubles.
But now, her resistance was weakened. There was nothing to be gained from denying herself the pleasure she obviously craved. As for the shame of displaying her most intimate feelings to the audience and the camera, she was beyond that. She had suffered for them, so why not take pleasure for them?
Moore was moaning now and Dr. Taylor was grinning, leaning over her, whispering things in her ear that Windar couldn’t quite make out, but that the microphone was probably catching. Moore’s legs were stretched out rigidly behind her, and she was moaning loudly.
Suddenly, Moore’s whole body began shaking and she let out a series of gasps before she collapsed on the gurney.
“Heh, heh. What a shameless slut!” Beth exclaimed.
Dr. Taylor pulled her hand away and bowed for the cameras. Dean Windar and Judge Powers gave her a round of applause.
“Well done, doctor!” Windar exclaimed.
“Piece of cake. The cane gets their juices flowing,” Dr. Taylor said. Windar had to defer to her professional expertise and obvious practical experience.
“Alright, Moore, you’ve had your fun,” the doctor said. “Now get her lazy ass out of my clinic and into her cell for the night. I’ll be by to check on her later and she can thank me then.”
Beth and Sue each took hold of an arm and hauled Professor Moore to her feet. “Let’s go slut,” Sue said, and together they marched her out of the clinic. Dean Windar couldn’t help watching her ass as they dragged her away. He also couldn’t help noticing that Dr. Taylor was doing the same.
***
Some time later
President Porcelli’s office looked directly over the main quad of the campus, unlike Dean Windar’s which looked over only a small portion of it. He looked through the large window behind her desk at the passing undergraduates, the female students now dressed in more revealing spring cloths-shorts and tank tops, rather than the parkas they had worn on the day that professor Moore had been flogged.
“Please have a seat, James,” she told him. He sat. They made small talk for a few minutes-the basketball team had finished another dismal season and the baseball team was following in their footsteps.
Soon, she got to the point. “I read your memo on Professor Moore’s tenure. You know I like to delegate and not mix in to your domain, but in this case I disagree with you. Very strongly, I might add.”
“But, but, President Porcelli,” Dean Windar stuttered, “Surely a great institution like Dorsbury can’t grant tenure to a criminal who flouts the laws of our state, whether we agree with those laws or not.”
“Criminal? Hardly. What I would call Professor Moore is a dissident, and one who’s paid a very stiff price for standing up for her beliefs, wouldn’t you say?”
“But chaining herself to the courtroom door?”
“If that’s a crime, who was the victim, Dean Windar?” Windar found himself too stunned to answer.
“You know, I saw the video of her speech. It was quite eloquent,” the President continued.
“But surely our college shouldn’t associate themselves with someone who exposes herself on camera like some cheap porno star?”
“Well, it seems like the authorities didn’t give her much choice, did they?”
“But what about her reaching a sexual climax on camera? She certainly didn’t put up much resistance, did she?”
“By that point she was exhausted and overwhelmed by the pain she had been subjected to. Besides, I found her display quite-how should I put this?-admirable. A woman taking her pleasure without shame or inhibition is a good thing, is it not? I dare say, I’ve watched that footage more than once and I would bet a large sum of money that you have too, James.”
Dean Windar blushed and looked out the window. Those two undergrads passing by had the longest and shapeliest legs.
The President continued. “She’s done some first rate research and is an excellent teacher. Her students, the women in particular, adore her. You’ve told me herself that since her return she’s kept scrupulously within her budget.”
Dean Windar sighed. “Yes, that’s all true, but…”
President Porcelli straightened up in her chair. “Dorsbury can’t afford to look narrow minded and prudish. And besides, with her, along with the rest of those up for tenure, we’ll be at 45% female tenured faculty and within sight of equality, which I assured the Board we’d reach in the next three years.”
“You’ve made some excellent arguments as always, Madame President. I see your point.”
“That’s very good, James. I’m sure you’ll want to convey the good news to Professor Moore in person. Feel free to present it as your decision. No need to mention this conversation at all. I’m sure she’ll be very pleased and will thank you most profusely.”
At that, Dean Windar rose and smiled a smile that lasted all the way back to his office, where he sat at his desk and typed an email: “Professor Moore-I have some news to share with you. Perhaps you’d care to join me for lunch at Chez Bernard. Would 12:30 be OK?”
THE END