Imprisonment and Execution in Modern Singapore Part III of Barb's Singapore Saga

[Praefectus Praetorio]

I'm tired of supplying the number of the chapter. At this point, I have reached the normal number of fingers and therefore I have probably exceeded the ability of several of you to count. If you need to know the number, spend a little effort looking up Malay counting.

Sepuluh Phone Call between the Chambers of the Presiding Judge of the State Courts of Singapore and the Commandant’s Office Changi Prison Complex 9:50 AM

Justice Rut Betar-Gisber (RBG): Good morning Commandant! It is so nice to hear from you. I trust you are well?

Commandant Major Mamat bin Osman (MBO): I am in the best of health, your Ladyship. And how are you?

RBG: At my age, the best that can be wished for is to continue, and that I am doing.

MBO: I can assure you many in the Republic are very thankful for that!

RBG: So kind of you, Major. What can I do for you this morning?

MBO: I’m asking regarding the case of Barbara Ann Moore, who was committed to our “permanent” care yesterday. Although I have handled such cases before, I recognize that this case has drawn the attention of some of the most distinguished persons in the Republic and, of course, involves a foreign national. I believe that it demands the most proper and professional attention. Therefore, I would like to ask you a few quick questions to ensure I proceed properly. I apologize if I am interrupting your valuable work in the court.

RBG: Not at all, Major. It is a quiet morning. They don’t need me much; they regard me as ready to be put out to pasture.

MBO: Ha! You could do the work of half of our judiciary!

RBG: Not anymore, I fear, Major. But my time right now is yours. Please ask your questions and I shall endeavor to respond in a useful manner.

MBO: Thank you, your Ladyship. First, I would like to be clear on the appeal process. I understand that the case will be automatically appealed to the Appeal Court and to the President?

RGB: All death penalties generate a writ of certiorari, that is, an appeal accepted, by the Appeal Court, which is, as you know the higher lever section of our Supreme Court. If the appeal is subsequently denied, then the President, on the advice of the Cabinet, may grant clemency. However, a formal appeal to the President is not required.

MBO: Just as I understood. Of course, while the appeal is pending, the death sentence may not be carried out.

RGB: Of course.

MBO: And the timing of that?

RGB: As you probably know, as Presiding Judge, I set the docket for the Appeal Court. I was just looking at their calendar and I intend to set the hearing for one week from today, Tuesday, April 2nd. The hearing will be held and completed on that day.

MBO: And a decision?

RGB: That is not precisely specified. The Appeal Court likes to take some time in handing down their death penalty decisions to show that they take it seriously. They do uphold over 90% of these. Between you and me, we can usually count on them deciding and issuing their order within another five or six days. Since that includes a weekend, I am pretty confident that they will issue their order on Monday, April 8th. If they let the sentence stand, they will issue an affermatio per curiam. If they disagree with the sentence, they will issue a writ of remandare, sending the case back to the lower court with instructions to change the verdict or sentence.

Either way you will receive a copy of the order immediately on issuance. So, again, I would expect that on the 8th.

MBO: And then, if affirmed, I am free to execute the sentence?

RGB: Correct. Though you know that decorum and the opportunity to notify those who will attend the execution usually calls for another delay of four days. That also allows a window for the President to intervene if he wishes.

MBO: Of course. And to allow plenty of time for the official television broadcast to be arranged. I count that to Friday, April 12th. You have been most helpful, your Ladyship. Now, just one other matter, the caning prescribed. I understand that doesn’t have to wait for the appeal?

RGB: No, the automatic granting of certiorari does not apply to a caning. That would only happen if Miss Moore’s attorney petitions for a writ and he has not indicated that he will. Even then the Appeal Court would have to grant the petition and, in my experience, they rarely do. Therefore, you may feel free to proceed with the caning whenever it is convenient for the prison. Do, however, let me know when it will occur.

MBO: You may be sure that I will. Which brings up my final issue. I have concerns that a sentence of 40 strokes with the ten percent discretion allowing forty-four, risks possible death to the prisoner.

RGB: Oh dear! Do you really think so? We have carried out such sentences before without the convicted dying.

MBO: Yes, your Ladyship, but those were, in the main, strong male prisoners who on several occasions did suffer permanent debilitating injuries. In the case of Miss Moore, she is significantly less robust than those men were. While I’m not concerned with permanent injury if she is to be executed, it would be a possible embarrassment if the death sentence were overturned.

RGB: Between you and me, Major, I can guarantee that won’t happen. However, I understand your concerns especially for her life. What do you propose? Surely you aren’t requesting clemency?

MBO: No. No, of course not. I always execute the orders of the court without mercy! I simply propose that I split up the number. I would propose twenty (up to twenty-two) in three days, this Friday, the 9th. The second twenty could then be administered a week later on the following Friday. I believe that with the excellent medical care of our chief prison physician Dr. Liú, Barbara will recover adequately between these sessions to endure the full sentence. And that would give her also time to be somewhat healed before her execution.

RGB: Excellent suggestion, Major! I believe that will also allow her to more fully experience the punishment. Excellent. So you will start this Friday?

MBO: With your permission.

RGB: You have it, Major. I am most pleased with your work. Most pleased. Be sure to send me..ah…nine VIP tickets to each caning as well as the execution. I have some debts to pay.

MBO: Of course, your Ladyship, debts must be paid! (The Major hid his disappointment at giving away so many tickets that could have been sold for a good price.) Thank you for your indulgence!

RGB: Think nothing of it Major. I am pleased to have a “friend” like you!

MBO: You honor me, Your Ladyship!

Call Ended

 

[Fossy]

I'm tired of supplying the number of the chapter. At this point, I have reached the normal number of fingers and therefore I have probably exceeded the ability of several of you to count. If you need to know the number, spend a little effort looking up Malay counting.

Sepuluh Phone Call between the Chambers of the Presiding Judge of the State Courts of Singapore and the Commandant’s Office Changi Prison Complex 9:50 AM

Justice Rut Betar-Gisber (RBG): Good morning Commandant! It is so nice to hear from you. I trust you are well?

Commandant Major Mamat bin Osman (MBO): I am in the best of health, your Ladyship. And how are you?

RBG: At my age, the best that can be wished for is to continue, and that I am doing.

MBO: I can assure you many in the Republic are very thankful for that!

RBG: So kind of you, Major. What can I do for you this morning?

MBO: I’m asking regarding the case of Barbara Ann Moore, who was committed to our “permanent” care yesterday. Although I have handled such cases before, I recognize that this case has drawn the attention of some of the most distinguished persons in the Republic and, of course, involves a foreign national. I believe that it demands the most proper and professional attention. Therefore, I would like to ask you a few quick questions to ensure I proceed properly. I apologize if I am interrupting your valuable work in the court.

RBG: Not at all, Major. It is a quiet morning. They don’t need me much; they regard me as ready to be put out to pasture.

MBO: Ha! You could do the work of half of our judiciary!

RBG: Not anymore, I fear, Major. But my time right now is yours. Please ask your questions and I shall endeavor to respond in a useful manner.

MBO: Thank you, your Ladyship. First, I would like to be clear on the appeal process. I understand that the case will be automatically appealed to the Appeal Court and to the President?

RGB: All death penalties generate a writ of certiorari, that is, an appeal accepted, by the Appeal Court, which is, as you know the higher lever section of our Supreme Court. If the appeal is subsequently denied, then the President, on the advice of the Cabinet, may grant clemency. However, a formal appeal to the President is not required.

MBO: Just as I understood. Of course, while the appeal is pending, the death sentence may not be carried out.

RGB: Of course.

MBO: And the timing of that?

RGB: As you probably know, as Presiding Judge, I set the docket for the Appeal Court. I was just looking at their calendar and I intend to set the hearing for one week from today, Tuesday, April 2nd. The hearing will be held and completed on that day.

MBO: And a decision?

RGB: That is not precisely specified. The Appeal Court likes to take some time in handing down their death penalty decisions to show that they take it seriously. They do uphold over 90% of these. Between you and me, we can usually count on them deciding and issuing their order within another five or six days. Since that includes a weekend, I am pretty confident that they will issue their order on Monday, April 8th. If they let the sentence stand, they will issue an affermatio per curiam. If they disagree with the sentence, they will issue a writ of remandare, sending the case back to the lower court with instructions to change the verdict or sentence.

Either way you will receive a copy of the order immediately on issuance. So, again, I would expect that on the 8th.

MBO: And then, if affirmed, I am free to execute the sentence?

RGB: Correct. Though you know that decorum and the opportunity to notify those who will attend the execution usually calls for another delay of four days. That also allows a window for the President to intervene if he wishes.

MBO: Of course. And to allow plenty of time for the official television broadcast to be arranged. I count that to Friday, April 12th. You have been most helpful, your Ladyship. Now, just one other matter, the caning prescribed. I understand that doesn’t have to wait for the appeal?

RGB: No, the automatic granting of certiorari does not apply to a caning. That would only happen if Miss Moore’s attorney petitions for a writ and he has not indicated that he will. Even then the Appeal Court would have to grant the petition and, in my experience, they rarely do. Therefore, you may feel free to proceed with the caning whenever it is convenient for the prison. Do, however, let me know when it will occur.

MBO: You may be sure that I will. Which brings up my final issue. I have concerns that a sentence of 40 strokes with the ten percent discretion allowing forty-four, risks possible death to the prisoner.

RGB: Oh dear! Do you really think so? We have carried out such sentences before without the convicted dying.

MBO: Yes, your Ladyship, but those were, in the main, strong male prisoners who on several occasions did suffer permanent debilitating injuries. In the case of Miss Moore, she is significantly less robust than those men were. While I’m not concerned with permanent injury if she is to be executed, it would be a possible embarrassment if the death sentence were overturned.

RGB: Between you and me, Major, I can guarantee that won’t happen. However, I understand your concerns especially for her life. What do you propose? Surely you aren’t requesting clemency?

MBO: No. No, of course not. I always execute the orders of the court without mercy! I simply propose that I split up the number. I would propose twenty (up to twenty-two) in three days, this Friday, the 9th. The second twenty could then be administered a week later on the following Friday. I believe that with the excellent medical care of our chief prison physician Dr. Liú, Barbara will recover adequately between these sessions to endure the full sentence. And that would give her also time to be somewhat healed before her execution.

RGB: Excellent suggestion, Major! I believe that will also allow her to more fully experience the punishment. Excellent. So you will start this Friday?

MBO: With your permission.

RGB: You have it, Major. I am most pleased with your work. Most pleased. Be sure to send me..ah…nine VIP tickets to each caning as well as the execution. I have some debts to pay.

MBO: Of course, your Ladyship, debts must be paid! (The Major hid his disappointment at giving away so many tickets that could have been sold for a good price.) Thank you for your indulgence!

RGB: Think nothing of it Major. I am pleased to have a “friend” like you!

MBO: You honor me, Your Ladyship!

Call Ended

Such a thoughtful request on the part of MBO - some might think he was going soft
A most enlightening chapter PrPr ... already visions of Barb's naked, tight ass tensed and ready are plaguing my mind!

 

[twonines]

Another fine chapter, full of detail and drawing attention to the ordeals poor Barb has to face, or to be more accurate, her tight little does.

 

[Barbaria1]

MBO: Of course. And to allow plenty of time for the official television broadcast to be arranged.

Television broadcast? What? How utterly humiliating!!! Geeze!

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

Oh the sisters of mercy
They are not departed or gone - Leonard Cohen

Sebelas Cell 22 Death Row 10:00 AM

The guard looked slightly puzzled when Dr. Liú arrived and requested entrance to Barbara’s cell. The chief doctor of Changi did not make unannounced house calls on inmates. Permission must first be given by a senior administrator and then usually for a visit to the infirmary. However, when he read the note from Imran that Chunhua showed him, he promptly unlocked the door and escorted her inside.

She entered to find Barbara, curled in the fetal position on the floor, weeping with sobs that shook her entire body. Without missing a beat, the doctor said, in a flat, professional voice, “What are you complaining about now, Miss Moore? I’ve been told you have a problem with your feet?”

Barb could barely manage a groan in reply as the horrible shooting pain in her feet blinded her to everything else.

Despite secretly enjoying the suffering of her former rival for Jeffrey’s affections, Dr. Liú’s medical sensitivity was aroused by the obvious suffering of the prisoner. She set her bag down on the floor and knelt to examine Barb’s feet.

The signs of Bastinado were immediately apparent to her experienced eyes. Swollen, bruised flesh over the soles and to the toes. They had been very thorough, she thought. There were no cuts, so there was little she could do to speed the healing, which would just take time. There were abrasions on her wrists and ankles. Those fixed floor stocks, the doctor thought. Well, she could treat those injuries with some ointment.

“You do seem to have bruised your feet very badly, Miss Moore. I suggest to be more careful next time.” Barb groaned in pain and frustration at the words.

“First I can do is put some healing ointment on those scrapes you seem to have.”

Barb winched a little at the attention to her abraded skin, but the pain was dwarfed by the throbbing in her feet

“The only thing I can do for your feet is to wrap them with compression wraps. I think in the States you call them ACE bandages for “all cotton elastic.” It will hurt a little, but it will reduce the swelling and also speed healing.”

Through the pain, Barbara tried to follow what the doctor said. She had helped her heal last time, despite causing unbearable pain in the treatment Reluctantly, in fear of more pain, she nodded a mute agreement.

Chunhua turned to the guard and requested two men to help hold Barb as she worked. Wryly, she thought to her self, it would have been easier for all if they had just left her in the stocks. However, without such special restraints, the doctor simply had the men stretch her out and then sit on her legs to immobilize them.

As they prepared Barb, Chunhua opened her bag and extracted two of the compression wraps and her earplugs. In the small cell with hard walls, the doctor didn’t intend to have her hearing damaged.

Dr. Liú took one bandage and began wrapping Barb’s left foot. The screams, as Chunhua had anticipated, were deafening. If two men had not been sitting on her legs, she probably would have hit the ceiling. Looking over, Chunhua saw Barb bolt upright, her face a rictus of pain, saliva spraying from her mouth with her cries.

Ignoring the screeching as best she could (the earplugs helped a lot), the doctor proceeded to wrap both feet tightly. When she finished and told the guards to leave, she noted that the brunette was drenched in sweat and twitching on the floor. Taking advantage of the situation. She lifted Barbara’s thin shift to her neck and conducted an examination more directed at her pleasure than at helping her patient. She listened to her racing heart, palpitated her chest and abdomen (noting some bruising around the belly, she knew Barb must have irritated Imran), and even checked the state of her thigh muscles. Having reached the limit of what made any medical sense, Chunhua reluctantly lowered the shift on the moaning, tortured woman, and packed her bag.

Walking toward the door, Chunhua paused, turned to Barb, and said in a cheerful voice, “My advice is to stay off your feet for a while.”


Central Police Station, Office of the Chief of Detectives, Weida Ng, 11:30 AM

As he exited his boss’s office, Detective Inspector W. E. (Jack) Frost, looked back and liberally spewed agreement. “Right so, Sir. Couldn't agree more! That'll be for the best. Clean Break. New Blood needed! Call an end to it!”

Frost had entered the office of the Chief of Detectives this morning, the day after witnessing what he knew was a terrible miscarriage of justice at the trial of Barbara Moore. Jack had sat through hundreds of trials in his career and could spot a defendant being railroaded as easy as he could a false alibi. It wasn’t truly his boss’s fault; he clearly had been ordered to let it happen. But it was his own fault, Frost thought. With all his experience he had failed to uncover what was the flaw in the case against Moore. And he knew there was one!

Disgusted with himself, Jack had marched into Ng’s office today to submit his resignation. Before he was able, Ng gently but firmly informed him that he would soon be retired from the Singapore Police. All the usual platitudes were handed him on a silver platter: personnel levels, the need to bring along younger talent, gratitude for his outstanding work. Ng’s bottom line was that Frost would be retired by the end of April with a remarkably generous retirement package. Jack said a silent prayer in thanks for having been beaten to the punch. This package was very significantly better than what he would have received in a resignation.

Frost, with only brief apparent reluctance, graciously accepted the offer and commented that he also thought it was for the best.

Closing his chief’s door behind him, Frost walked slowly to his desk.

Right! he thought. Before I hang up my hat, darlings, I am going to prove Barbara Ann Moore innocent!

 

[Fossy]

Oh the sisters of mercy
They are not departed or gone - Leonard Cohen

Sebelas Cell 22 Death Row 10:00 AM

The guard looked slightly puzzled when Dr. Liú arrived and requested entrance to Barbara’s cell. The chief doctor of Changi did not make unannounced house calls on inmates. Permission must first be given by a senior administrator and then usually for a visit to the infirmary. However, when he read the note from Imran that Chunhua showed him, he promptly unlocked the door and escorted her inside.

She entered to find Barbara, curled in the fetal position on the floor, weeping with sobs that shook her entire body. Without missing a beat, the doctor said, in a flat, professional voice, “What are you complaining about now, Miss Moore? I’ve been told you have a problem with your feet?”

Barb could barely manage a groan in reply as the horrible shooting pain in her feet blinded her to everything else.

Despite secretly enjoying the suffering of her former rival for Jeffrey’s affections, Dr. Liú’s medical sensitivity was aroused by the obvious suffering of the prisoner. She set her bag down on the floor and knelt to examine Barb’s feet.

The signs of Bastinado were immediately apparent to her experienced eyes. Swollen, bruised flesh over the soles and to the toes. They had been very thorough, she thought. There were no cuts, so there was little she could do to speed the healing, which would just take time. There were abrasions on her wrists and ankles. Those fixed floor stocks, the doctor thought. Well, she could treat those injuries with some ointment.

“You do seem to have bruised your feet very badly, Miss Moore. I suggest to be more careful next time.” Barb groaned in pain and frustration at the words.

“First I can do is put some healing ointment on those scrapes you seem to have.”

Barb winched a little at the attention to her abraded skin, but the pain was dwarfed by the throbbing in her feet

“The only thing I can do for your feet is to wrap them with compression wraps. I think in the States you call them ACE bandages for “all cotton elastic.” It will hurt a little, but it will reduce the swelling and also speed healing.”

Through the pain, Barbara tried to follow what the doctor said. She had helped her heal last time, despite causing unbearable pain in the treatment Reluctantly, in fear of more pain, she nodded a mute agreement.

Chunhua turned to the guard and requested two men to help hold Barb as she worked. Wryly, she thought to her self, it would have been easier for all if they had just left her in the stocks. However, without such special restraints, the doctor simply had the men stretch her out and then sit on her legs to immobilize them.

As they prepared Barb, Chunhua opened her bag and extracted two of the compression wraps and her earplugs. In the small cell with hard walls, the doctor didn’t intend to have her hearing damaged.

Dr. Liú took one bandage and began wrapping Barb’s left foot. The screams, as Chunhua had anticipated, were deafening. If two men had not been sitting on her legs, she probably would have hit the ceiling. Looking over, Chunhua saw Barb bolt upright, her face a rictus of pain, saliva spraying from her mouth with her cries.

Ignoring the screeching as best she could (the earplugs helped a lot), the doctor proceeded to wrap both feet tightly. When she finished and told the guards to leave, she noted that the brunette was drenched in sweat and twitching on the floor. Taking advantage of the situation. She lifted Barbara’s thin shift to her neck and conducted an examination more directed at her pleasure than at helping her patient. She listened to her racing heart, palpitated her chest and abdomen (noting some bruising around the belly, she knew Barb must have irritated Imran), and even checked the state of her thigh muscles. Having reached the limit of what made any medical sense, Chunhua reluctantly lowered the shift on the moaning, tortured woman, and packed her bag.

Walking toward the door, Chunhua paused, turned to Barb, and said in a cheerful voice, “My advice is to stay off your feet for a while.”


Central Police Station, Office of the Chief of Detectives, Weida Ng, 11:30 AM

As he exited his boss’s office, Detective Inspector W. E. (Jack) Frost, looked back and liberally spewed agreement. “Right so, Sir. Couldn't agree more! That'll be for the best. Clean Break. New Blood needed! Call an end to it!”

Frost had entered the office of the Chief of Detectives this morning, the day after witnessing what he knew was a terrible miscarriage of justice at the trial of Barbara Moore. Jack had sat through hundreds of trials in his career and could spot a defendant being railroaded as easy as he could a false alibi. It wasn’t truly his boss’s fault; he clearly had been ordered to let it happen. But it was his own fault, Frost thought. With all his experience he had failed to uncover what was the flaw in the case against Moore. And he knew there was one!

Disgusted with himself, Jack had marched into Ng’s office today to submit his resignation. Before he was able, Ng gently but firmly informed him that he would soon be retired from the Singapore Police. All the usual platitudes were handed him on a silver platter: personnel levels, the need to bring along younger talent, gratitude for his outstanding work. Ng’s bottom line was that Frost would be retired by the end of April with a remarkably generous retirement package. Jack said a silent prayer in thanks for having been beaten to the punch. This package was very significantly better than what he would have received in a resignation.

Frost, with only brief apparent reluctance, graciously accepted the offer and commented that he also thought it was for the best.

Closing his chief’s door behind him, Frost walked slowly to his desk.

Right! he thought. Before I hang up my hat, darlings, I am going to prove Barbara Ann Moore innocent!

Great episode - Barb gets sound advice to 'stay off her feet' and her whole future is in the hands of the somewhat frigidly named Jack Frost ... what the future hols remains to be seen ... Splendid writing PrPr, as always.

 

[geolier]

Perhaps throwing some cold water on her and a good slapping around, might wake her up?

Nice - but a bit too fast.

 

[Barbaria1]

Right! he thought. Before I hang up my hat, darlings, I am going to prove Barbara Ann Moore innocent!

Well, don’t just think about it. For fuck’s sake, DO IT!

 

[twonines]

Well, don’t just think about it. For fuck’s sake, DO IT!

Gracious as ever!!!

 

[twonines]

Another great chapter PrPR, the strength lies in the detail, the characterisation and not just Barb`s cruel misadventures. Dr.Liu has certainly "blossomed"and become a very complex and interesting character.
She will now have to reconcile her enjoyment of Barb`s pain with her responsibility to ensure that the victim is relatively unharmed when she again mounts the caning frame.The bruises from the original punishments will still be apparent but Barb`s thighs and vulva are going to be blatantly displayed,so she needs to be free of further injury for at least a couple of days.

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

Another great chapter PrPR, the strength lies in the detail, the characterisation and not just Barb`s cruel misadventures. Dr.Liu has certainly "blossomed"and become a very complex and interesting character.
She will now have to reconcile her enjoyment of Barb`s pain with her responsibility to ensure that the victim is relatively unharmed when she again mounts the caning frame.The bruises from the original punishments will still be apparent but Barb`s thighs and vulva are going to be blatantly displayed,so she needs to be free of further injury for at least a couple of days.

I shall pass that wise advice on to the Commandant.

 

[old slave]

Right! he thought. Before I hang up my hat, darlings, I am going to prove Barbara Ann Moore innocent!

Just a quiet word, Jack.
Ensure you have the retirement package in writing before you expose the whole corrupt gang.
Verbal agreements have a habit of being forgotten, along with old video-camera recordings.

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

Some Gainful Employment

Dua Belas Cell 22 Death Row 2:00 PM

After a long time, Barb managed to drag herself over to her mat. Waves of pain rolled through her feet. She was sure several bones must be broken. Why hadn’t that slutty doctor taken x-rays? She’d include that in her general reports and complaints once she had a laptop.

Despite the incredible pain with her feet throbbing, she thought about those Client Services assholes. Boy, were they a bunch of incompetents. No laptop or iPhone yet. No chef to take her diet orders. And still no new bedding! Would she ever give them a piece of her mind when next they appeared. God, she would love some Reisling now!

Barb ate only a little lunch, the pain making her half-nauseous. However, by mid-afternoon, it had subsided to almost bearable. Still no sign of the Client Services people!

Then Imran and two other guards threw open the door and shouted “Inspection Position.” Barb jumped at the shock and almost stood, but shooting pain in her feet made it impossible.

“Please. Oh, please, sir! I can’t stand! My feet, they’re broken!”

Imran looked a her bandaged feet and had a rare moment of pity.

“Alright, then. On your knees, widespread and the rest of the normal posture.”

Barb complied as rapidly as she could. The incredible bastinado had instilled submission.

The inspection was the usual, humiliating affair. Imran then allowed her to lower her shift but stay on her knees with her hands behind her head.

“We’ve got the first part of your work schedule, bitch,” he told her with an evil grin. “You get to work a shift tonight, nine to midnight.”

“Oh, no, please, sir. I couldn’t. I can’t stand for a moment.”

“Who said anything about standing, you dumb slut. You can and will do this job flat on your back.” The other guards burst out in their cackling laughs, but Barb knew better than to object.

“What? What do I do?”

“You’re the USO tour for the prison, slut. You get to entertain the troops. Guards’ lounge for three hours on your back. Take on and satisfy all comers!”

“Oh my God, no! Not again! You almost killed me last time!”

“Nowhere close to it. And the guards will not be out to hurt you (well a few may, but not seriously like we were). They just want to fuck you. Any objection?” With that, he took his truncheon out of his belt. Barb recoiled at the sight of the weapon that had destroyed her middle only a few hours earlier.

Imran brought his face down, close to Barb’s, and smiled evilly. “You probably call this a baton or a truncheon. Some call it a Tonfa. In Malay, it is a Tongkat Kayu, literally “wood stick.” You probably think it’s police equipment. For me, it’s a weapon in Silat, Southeast Asia’s martial arts. A trained practitioner can stop, cripple and kill a much stronger opponent in a matter of seconds with just this.” In an incredibly fast gesture, he swept the stick past her face.

Barbara flinched, and her eyes were wide as she trembled with fear. She could feel her midriff cramping.

“Did I tell you that I am a Senior Yellow belt, the seventh level up the ranking in Silat,” Imran said this, gently tapping the Tongkat against Barbara’s inner thighs. She let out a little squeal but held position.

“No, Sir,” she stammered, almost sobbing in fear of what he could do with that weapon.

“Now, Miss Barbara Ann Slut Moore, any objection to servicing our guards tonight?”

“No, Sir. No objection, Sir,” Barb said, tears running down her cheeks.

“Good, good. I know many of the men are looking forward to it. You rest your feet now and have your dinner. Take a nap; you’ll be up late at work.” Again the others gave their hyena laughs as they all left the cell.

Barb sank to her hunches as she buried her face in her hands and cried as hard as she ever had.

 

[Fossy]

Some Gainful Employment

Dua Belas Cell 22 Death Row 2:00 PM

After a long time, Barb managed to drag herself over to her mat. Waves of pain rolled through her feet. She was sure several bones must be broken. Why hadn’t that slutty doctor taken x-rays? She’d include that in her general reports and complaints once she had a laptop.

Despite the incredible pain with her feet throbbing, she thought about those Client Services assholes. Boy, were they a bunch of incompetents. No laptop or iPhone yet. No chef to take her diet orders. And still no new bedding! Would she ever give them a piece of her mind when next they appeared. God, she would love some Reisling now!

Barb ate only a little lunch, the pain making her half-nauseous. However, by mid-afternoon, it had subsided to almost bearable. Still no sign of the Client Services people!

Then Imran and two other guards threw open the door and shouted “Inspection Position.” Barb jumped at the shock and almost stood, but shooting pain in her feet made it impossible.

“Please. Oh, please, sir! I can’t stand! My feet, they’re broken!”

Imran looked a her bandaged feet and had a rare moment of pity.

“Alright, then. On your knees, widespread and the rest of the normal posture.”

Barb complied as rapidly as she could. The incredible bastinado had instilled submission.

The inspection was the usual, humiliating affair. Imran then allowed her to lower her shift but stay on her knees with her hands behind her head.

“We’ve got the first part of your work schedule, bitch,” he told her with an evil grin. “You get to work a shift tonight, nine to midnight.”

“Oh, no, please, sir. I couldn’t. I can’t stand for a moment.”

“Who said anything about standing, you dumb slut. You can and will do this job flat on your back.” The other guards burst out in their cackling laughs, but Barb knew better than to object.

“What? What do I do?”

“You’re the USO tour for the prison, slut. You get to entertain the troops. Guards’ lounge for three hours on your back. Take on and satisfy all comers!”

“Oh my God, no! Not again! You almost killed me last time!”

“Nowhere close to it. And the guards will not be out to hurt you (well a few may, but not seriously like we were). They just want to fuck you. Any objection?” With that, he took his truncheon out of his belt. Barb recoiled at the sight of the weapon that had destroyed her middle only a few hours earlier.

Imran brought his face down, close to Barb’s, and smiled evilly. “You probably call this a baton or a truncheon. Some call it a Tonfa. In Malay, it is a Tongkat Kayu, literally “wood stick.” You probably think it’s police equipment. For me, it’s a weapon in Silat, Southeast Asia’s martial arts. A trained practitioner can stop, cripple and kill a much stronger opponent in a matter of seconds with just this.” In an incredibly fast gesture, he swept the stick past her face.

Barbara flinched, and her eyes were wide as she trembled with fear. She could feel her midriff cramping.

“Did I tell you that I am a Senior Yellow belt, the seventh level up the ranking in Silat,” Imran said this, gently tapping the Tongkat against Barbara’s inner thighs. She let out a little squeal but held position.

“No, Sir,” she stammered, almost sobbing in fear of what he could do with that weapon.

“Now, Miss Barbara Ann Slut Moore, any objection to servicing our guards tonight?”

“No, Sir. No objection, Sir,” Barb said, tears running down her cheeks.

“Good, good. I know many of the men are looking forward to it. You rest your feet now and have your dinner. Take a nap; you’ll be up late at work.” Again the others gave their hyena laughs as they all left the cell.

Barb sank to her hunches as she buried her face in her hands and cried as hard as she ever had.

Loved the chapter PrPr - Amazing that all Barb's ills can be but into perspective with a glass of chilled Reisling!

 

[Barbaria1]

“What? What do I do?”

“You’re the USO tour for the prison, slut. You get to entertain the troops. Guards’ lounge for three hours on your back. Take on and satisfy all comers!”

Calling OSHA. Work conditions like those must be a violation of some rule!

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

The Legal Eagles are working nonstop to save Barbara.

Tiga Belas American Embassy, Singapore 6:00 PM

Jeffrey Hodges was very pleased with how much they had accomplished the first day working on Barb’s appeal, especially Amanda’s contribution. Eager and quick to learn, always positive and complimentary of Jeffrey to a fault, the girl was simply a delight to work with.

No matter how large a task he gave her, nor how many times he needed to correct her youthful errors, Amanda retained her cheer and showered Jeffrey with praise. As they bent over the books and documents spread out on the conference table, Jeffrey tried not to be distracted by the fact that the top buttons of her blouse were open, and, as she bent over, he could catch unobstructed views of her free-hanging breasts. When that happened, he would force himself, with only a small delay, to look back down to his work.

Other times he would move around to beside her to avoid that view. However, when he did, he would see her ass, barely concealed under the tight, thin skirt which rode up to reveal the bottom curves of her asscheeks. On a few occasions, it felt like an outside force was compelling his hands to reach out and grab that delectable rear!

Control yourself, he told himself. Remember, you’re doing this for Barbara!

Amanda, meanwhile was loving the opportunity to work closely with Mr. Hodges. Naturally, she had noticed him on the first day of her internship. What girl could not be attracted to the tall, strong, and handsome lawyer with the boyish tousled blond hair? She soon learned that there was hardly a female in the Embassy who hadn’t the hots for him. But all knew he was faithful to his wife and never fooled around. Amanda didn’t expect to get anywhere with him; even the thought of him noticing her was far fetched given the age difference and his marital fidelity.

However, a week ago, the miracle happened. Jeffrey approached her to help him review law books for the defense of Barbara Moore! She was immensely flattered (she didn’t know that she was simply the only one available). Amanda threw herself into the work as she always did in her academic pursuits.

With her blonde good looks and sexy, petite figure and her enthusiasm for cheerleading, most males assumed she was a blonde air-head. But she had worked very hard at her studies in school because she worried that her family couldn’t afford to send her to a good college. With her hard work, Amanda achieved Valedictorian of her class at Madison West High School and was accepted at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C. on Early Decision with a substantial scholarship.

Amanda knew nothing of the law, but wouldn’t let that stop her. After everyone else had left, she kept up the work and crammed the general law books in the library. The girl was in there until midnight every night and spent the last weekend camped out in the office. She would not let dear Mr. Hodges down.

Then that awful trial. Those stupid judges wouldn’t even listen to Jeffrey! She was so proud of him standing up to them and so sorry for him when he lost. Her only thought in hugging him had been to be supportive. But the embrace lasted and became much more! Last night she had dreamed of the hug and more.

That’s why she dressed a little more flamboyantly today. She didn’t expect Jeffrey to notice, but he did! She caught him looking down her blouse and at her ass (damn! He must think it’s too big!)

And so the two continued their dance of work and love. Was it a flirtation, a seduction? Would either make the first move? Or would both go home at the end of the day, aroused and frustrated?

A little after six in the evening, Jones spotted a possible rule they might cite. Hodges came over and stood next to her as she was pointing out the section with her delicate hand. Jeffrey felt her warmth next to him; his feelings seemed to be reaching the boiling point. Amanda, for her part, inhaled the slightly sweet, slightly musky scent he gave off.

Perusing the passage, Jeffrey’s hand grazed Amanda’s. They felt a spark. As they both turned to look at each other, Jeffrey was mesmerized by the girl’s flawless complexion and flaxen hair only inches away. As Amanda turned, she gasped at his strong, handsome face just next to her. Jones started to say something but forgot what it was as her mouth remained slightly open. Jeff gazed with lust as the wet, red lipstick she wore.

Without any word, both moved their lips toward each other, seeking the hot touch they both desired.

“So how’s it going then, Hodges?” came a sudden voice by the door. Jeffrey and Amanda both jumped, and their heads snapped around to see Minister Robert Burnside, chief administrator at the Embassy, standing by the entrance to the room.

In the universal gesture of guilt, the two rushed apart, shuffled, and hemmed a little.

“Great, Sir,” Jeffrey finally managed. “Amanda is picking it up fast.

“I’m trying, but Jeffrey is such a great teacher that he makes it easy,” gushed Amanda.

“Well. Just so,” Robert cleared his throat. He was always embarrassed by seeing office romances. “But the chief purpose here, Hodges, is not to educate Miss. Jones. It is to prevent an American tourist from being executed in a way that could cause embarrassment to the US! She might be a slut and a drug dealer and a murderess, but we need that sentence at least reduced. Twenty years in a labor camp would be fine, just not a hanging or impalation!”

“Yes, Sir, we are aware of that. The current sentence is both a hanging and an impalation. First, they will tighten a noose around her neck and then…”

“Yes, Yes. I don’t need the details, Hodges. Just get it reduced, understand?”

“Yes, Sir, we will.”

“You can count on Jeffrey, er Mr. Hodges,” chimed in Amanda, almost saluting.

After Burnside left, there was the usual awkward silence between the two as they tried to pretend that nothing had happened. Soon, Hodges called it a night and abruptly left, leaving Amanda alone to remember the deep blueness of his eyes that had been only inches away!

 

[Fossy]

The Legal Eagles are working nonstop to save Barbara.

Tiga Belas American Embassy, Singapore 6:00 PM

Jeffrey Hodges was very pleased with how much they had accomplished the first day working on Barb’s appeal, especially Amanda’s contribution. Eager and quick to learn, always positive and complimentary of Jeffrey to a fault, the girl was simply a delight to work with.

No matter how large a task he gave her, nor how many times he needed to correct her youthful errors, Amanda retained her cheer and showered Jeffrey with praise. As they bent over the books and documents spread out on the conference table, Jeffrey tried not to be distracted by the fact that the top buttons of her blouse were open, and, as she bent over, he could catch unobstructed views of her free-hanging breasts. When that happened, he would force himself, with only a small delay, to look back down to his work.

Other times he would move around to beside her to avoid that view. However, when he did, he would see her ass, barely concealed under the tight, thin skirt which rode up to reveal the bottom curves of her asscheeks. On a few occasions, it felt like an outside force was compelling his hands to reach out and grab that delectable rear!

Control yourself, he told himself. Remember, you’re doing this for Barbara!

Amanda, meanwhile was loving the opportunity to work closely with Mr. Hodges. Naturally, she had noticed him on the first day of her internship. What girl could not be attracted to the tall, strong, and handsome lawyer with the boyish tousled blond hair? She soon learned that there was hardly a female in the Embassy who hadn’t the hots for him. But all knew he was faithful to his wife and never fooled around. Amanda didn’t expect to get anywhere with him; even the thought of him noticing her was far fetched given the age difference and his marital fidelity.

However, a week ago, the miracle happened. Jeffrey approached her to help him review law books for the defense of Barbara Moore! She was immensely flattered (she didn’t know that she was simply the only one available). Amanda threw herself into the work as she always did in her academic pursuits.

With her blonde good looks and sexy, petite figure and her enthusiasm for cheerleading, most males assumed she was a blonde air-head. But she had worked very hard at her studies in school because she worried that her family couldn’t afford to send her to a good college. With her hard work, Amanda achieved Valedictorian of her class at Madison West High School and was accepted at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C. on Early Decision with a substantial scholarship.

Amanda knew nothing of the law, but wouldn’t let that stop her. After everyone else had left, she kept up the work and crammed the general law books in the library. The girl was in there until midnight every night and spent the last weekend camped out in the office. She would not let dear Mr. Hodges down.

Then that awful trial. Those stupid judges wouldn’t even listen to Jeffrey! She was so proud of him standing up to them and so sorry for him when he lost. Her only thought in hugging him had been to be supportive. But the embrace lasted and became much more! Last night she had dreamed of the hug and more.

That’s why she dressed a little more flamboyantly today. She didn’t expect Jeffrey to notice, but he did! She caught him looking down her blouse and at her ass (damn! He must think it’s too big!)

And so the two continued their dance of work and love. Was it a flirtation, a seduction? Would either make the first move? Or would both go home at the end of the day, aroused and frustrated?

A little after six in the evening, Jones spotted a possible rule they might cite. Hodges came over and stood next to her as she was pointing out the section with her delicate hand. Jeffrey felt her warmth next to him; his feelings seemed to be reaching the boiling point. Amanda, for her part, inhaled the slightly sweet, slightly musky scent he gave off.

Perusing the passage, Jeffrey’s hand grazed Amanda’s. They felt a spark. As they both turned to look at each other, Jeffrey was mesmerized by the girl’s flawless complexion and flaxen hair only inches away. As Amanda turned, she gasped at his strong, handsome face just next to her. Jones started to say something but forgot what it was as her mouth remained slightly open. Jeff gazed with lust as the wet, red lipstick she wore.

Without any word, both moved their lips toward each other, seeking the hot touch they both desired.

“So how’s it going then, Hodges?” came a sudden voice by the door. Jeffrey and Amanda both jumped, and their heads snapped around to see Minister Robert Burnside, chief administrator at the Embassy, standing by the entrance to the room.

In the universal gesture of guilt, the two rushed apart, shuffled, and hemmed a little.

“Great, Sir,” Jeffrey finally managed. “Amanda is picking it up fast.

“I’m trying, but Jeffrey is such a great teacher that he makes it easy,” gushed Amanda.

“Well. Just so,” Robert cleared his throat. He was always embarrassed by seeing office romances. “But the chief purpose here, Hodges, is not to educate Miss. Jones. It is to prevent an American tourist from being executed in a way that could cause embarrassment to the US! She might be a slut and a drug dealer and a murderess, but we need that sentence at least reduced. Twenty years in a labor camp would be fine, just not a hanging or impalation!”

“Yes, Sir, we are aware of that. The current sentence is both a hanging and an impalation. First, they will tighten a noose around her neck and then…”

“Yes, Yes. I don’t need the details, Hodges. Just get it reduced, understand?”

“Yes, Sir, we will.”

“You can count on Jeffrey, er Mr. Hodges,” chimed in Amanda, almost saluting.

After Burnside left, there was the usual awkward silence between the two as they tried to pretend that nothing had happened. Soon, Hodges called it a night and abruptly left, leaving Amanda alone to remember the deep blueness of his eyes that had been only inches away!

Damn why does that always happen. Just when the kiss is on the intrusion occurs!

There's many, many examples of hot situations and writing in this excellent tale, but the description of Amanda's downblouse and firm ass are up there with the best. Loved it PrPr like always.

 

[twonines]

You obviously have a soft spot for Jeffrey, he seems to get all the perks,in contrast to Barb who is having such a rough time of it Another interesting and well written Chapter!

 

[Migoz2]

I thought we had wandered dangerously far into Mills and Boon territory, until I came to this pleasing passage:

“But the chief purpose here, Hodges, is not to educate Miss. Jones. It is to prevent an American tourist from being executed in a way that could cause embarrassment to the US! She might be a slut and a drug dealer and a murderess, but we need that sentence at least reduced. Twenty years in a labor camp would be fine, just not a hanging or impalation!”

“Yes, Sir, we are aware of that. The current sentence is both a hanging and an impalation. First, they will tighten a noose around her neck and then…”

Seriously, nice work, as always, PrPr.

 

[Praefectus Praetorio]

Mills and Boon territory

My friends will tell you that I'm an incurable Romantic.