-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
.
Typhor2434
Executioner
Excellent; love some submission
M
montycrusto
Guest
An old one now, a court-house scene, with story attached. I’m working on a sequel.
“Harsh Sentence”
"The defendant will stand, to hear the sentence of the Court."
Justine stood up reluctantly, with a metallic ringing of chains. It was not easy, with her wrists locked in handcuffs behind her back, and the cuffs linked to her ankle shackles by a short length of chain. The two burly prison-officers, one on each side of her, grabbed her arms and pulled her upright. She squirmed with embarrassment, acutely aware that the entire court could now see clearly that she was naked from the waist down. The officers had confiscated her short prison skirt earlier, claiming amidst guffaws of laughter that the Court regulations only specified that the defendant be wearing a shirt or blouse. As for her underwear, that had been taken away on the day of her arrest, and no replacement had been provided. But enduring the prison-guards' lewd comments and opportunistic groping was one thing. Being exposed like this in public was quite another. Justine heard some wolf-whistles and cat-calls from the public gallery as those attending the trial got a good view of her bare bottom; she blushed and looked down at the floor. As if it wasn't humiliating enough already, being made to appear in public, chained hand and foot, and collared and leashed like a dog!
"Look up at the Judge, girl!" growled the guard at her side, who held the chain leash attached to the shackle they had locked around her neck. With his other hand, he took hold of her hair and yanked her head back; her eyes met those of the Judge, who studied her appraisingly from beneath his ridiculous wig. From his elevated seat, he had an excellent view of her exposed pussy. Justine cringed with shame. The Judge cleared his throat.
"You have pleaded guilty to the charges of sedition and immoral behaviour brought against you. This has spared the Court the tedious process of proving your guilt, and you might expect to be commended for that. However..." his voice took on a sterner tone, "...it is my considered opinion that your admission of guilt is not motivated by genuine contrition or remorse for your crimes. Instead, it is nothing more than a cynical stratagem, designed to manipulate the Court into granting you a leniency you do not deserve. Such manipulation may be construed as an attempt to pervert the course of justice. In addition, your appearance, improperly attired, is tantamount to an act of contempt of Court..."
"But, Your Honour," Justine began, "The guards took my..."
"Silence, prisoner!" the Judge commanded. The man standing beside Justine squeezed her upper arm very tightly, and placed his baton across her ribs, gently nudging the underside of her breasts with it. The message was clear: shut the fuck up, or else. Justine realized that she had just antagonized both the guards and the Judge; a mistake she was likely to regret.
The Judge cleared his throat again. "You will remain silent while sentence is passed. Do you understand?" Justine nodded meekly, wishing the guard would let go of her hair. "Yes, Your Honour," she mumbled.
"I am resolved," the Judge began, "to make an example of you. Your sentence will demonstrate by its severity that these crimes are not to be taken lightly, and that society will no longer tolerate such depravity and moral deviance. I therefore sentence you..." he paused, presumably for dramatic effect; Justine could barely breathe as she looked into his eyes, seeing no mercy there. "I therefore sentence you to serve a period of imprisonment with hard labour, including solitary confinement and special conditions, for a duration of not less than ten years."
Justine sagged, open-mouthed with shock, not believing what she heard. Only the guards' tight grip on her arms and hair prevented her from slumping to the floor. How had this gone so wrong? Her State-appointed lawyer had sworn she would get off with a slapped wrist, as long as she pleaded guilty. Her head swam... ten years? And what the fuck did he mean by "hard labour"? Dimly, she heard cheers and applause from the public gallery, and the Clerk shouting "Silence in Court!". The Judge rapped his gavel several times on his desk to restore order. Once the hubbub had subsided, he fixed Justine with a stony glare, and continued:
"Hard labour is specified as follows. You will perform menial, manual and strenuous physical work for not less than twelve hours a day, every day of the year, with no exceptions. Guards, overseers and wardens will punish you often, and severely, for the slightest hint of reluctance, using whips, electric prods and other motivational equipment." He licked his lips. "You will be worked in the nude, in chains, in public, in all weathers and in constant fear of the whip. Steel fetters will be permanently riveted around your wrists, ankles, waist and neck. Your hands will be chained behind your back at all times unless you are working, or restrained in some other fashion." The Judge paused for a moment, while an appreciative murmur rippled across the public gallery. Justine struggled to process what he was saying.
"Now we come to the special conditions. During transportation from the prison to the labour site, you will be tightly hooded and gagged, and confined in a small cage. The journey time, however long, will not be deducted from your working hours. Twice a day, during your work period, you will be fed a meal of slops and stale bread, which is to be thrown on to the ground and thoroughly trampled into the dirt, before you are allowed to eat; the officer responsible for your care is authorized to urinate on it as well. You will eat from the ground, kneeling, with hands chained behind your back as already specified. Toilet functions are to be performed in full view of staff and public. No other breaks or rest-periods are permitted. At the end of each day of arduous toil, you will be returned to prison in the same manner: gagged, hooded and caged. You will be hosed down with cold water. You will sleep on the floor of a bare isolation cell, with constant fluorescent lighting and closed-circuit television monitoring, either hog-tied on your belly, or on your back with arms and legs chained widely spread to ring-bolts set in the floor. This will ensure you do not touch yourself lewdly, or rub your thighs together, while you are in solitary confinement." The Judge licked his lips again, clearly warming to his theme.
"And that's if you behave perfectly. Any infractions of the rules, or hesitation in following orders, and you will spend the night on your feet, bent over, with your wrists pulled up behind you and secured to a hook in the ceiling. Further punishments may include being forced to work with coarse rope bound tightly around your breasts or through your crotch, or with a heavy ball and chain attached to your ankle. On occasion, you may be fitted with an anal stretching plug or a vaginal electric-shock probe. Your nipples, septum, tongue and clitoris will be pierced and ringed, and weights or bells may be affixed. Furthermore, you will be available for disciplinary sexual use at any time by staff members, and you will show your gratitude by thanking them for using you, otherwise you will be whipped without mercy. The public-spirited gentlemen who reported your criminal behaviour and brought you to justice..." he gestured towards the public gallery, where a couple of cheers and claps could be heard, "will have full access to you in your prison cell, so that they may be assured that strict justice is being done; they may assist in the administration of discipline by participating in your punishment however they see fit. You will thank them, too. Finally, any member of the public may, for a small fee payable to the prison governor, register temporarily as your husband, and enjoy private conjugal visits with you in your cell."
Justine barely took in his words. She looked around wildly for the treacherous lawyer, who had persuaded her to plead guilty, but he was nowhere to be seen. "No..." she shouted, "You can't do this! I've changed my mind... I'm not guilty! It's all lies! I haven't done anything! Please..." a sudden agonizing baton-blow to the belly silenced her instantly, and would have doubled her up had her hair not been held tightly in the meaty fist of one of the guards. She fought for breath as the pain slowly subsided, and realized the Judge was speaking again.
"Convict, your body is now the property of the State. You have forfeited all control over how it is treated. You will now be taken below, to a workshop beneath the Court, where you will be stripped naked and placed in permanent irons by a State-appointed blacksmith, while a brazier is set up and branding irons are heated. The Court will re-convene in one hour, to witness as the word "guilty" is burned permanently into your flesh. Your screams of agony will be a most effective deterrent, to anyone thinking of following your example."
The Judge stood up. "All rise!" shouted the Clerk. Everyone else in the Court got to their feet.
The Judge looked down at the wretched young convict, half naked and trembling in her chains between the two prison officers. He felt the warm glow of achievement that comes from the proper administration of justice, and was looking forward to enjoying a rather fine wine with his lunch, before returning to the courtroom to watch the branding. He nodded to the Clerk of the Court and the two prison officers, and said:
"Until then, get this piece of filth out of my sight. Court is adjourned. Take her down."
(Story and illustration by montycrusto, commissioned by stgapicbox/STGA)
“Harsh Sentence”
"The defendant will stand, to hear the sentence of the Court."
Justine stood up reluctantly, with a metallic ringing of chains. It was not easy, with her wrists locked in handcuffs behind her back, and the cuffs linked to her ankle shackles by a short length of chain. The two burly prison-officers, one on each side of her, grabbed her arms and pulled her upright. She squirmed with embarrassment, acutely aware that the entire court could now see clearly that she was naked from the waist down. The officers had confiscated her short prison skirt earlier, claiming amidst guffaws of laughter that the Court regulations only specified that the defendant be wearing a shirt or blouse. As for her underwear, that had been taken away on the day of her arrest, and no replacement had been provided. But enduring the prison-guards' lewd comments and opportunistic groping was one thing. Being exposed like this in public was quite another. Justine heard some wolf-whistles and cat-calls from the public gallery as those attending the trial got a good view of her bare bottom; she blushed and looked down at the floor. As if it wasn't humiliating enough already, being made to appear in public, chained hand and foot, and collared and leashed like a dog!
"Look up at the Judge, girl!" growled the guard at her side, who held the chain leash attached to the shackle they had locked around her neck. With his other hand, he took hold of her hair and yanked her head back; her eyes met those of the Judge, who studied her appraisingly from beneath his ridiculous wig. From his elevated seat, he had an excellent view of her exposed pussy. Justine cringed with shame. The Judge cleared his throat.
"You have pleaded guilty to the charges of sedition and immoral behaviour brought against you. This has spared the Court the tedious process of proving your guilt, and you might expect to be commended for that. However..." his voice took on a sterner tone, "...it is my considered opinion that your admission of guilt is not motivated by genuine contrition or remorse for your crimes. Instead, it is nothing more than a cynical stratagem, designed to manipulate the Court into granting you a leniency you do not deserve. Such manipulation may be construed as an attempt to pervert the course of justice. In addition, your appearance, improperly attired, is tantamount to an act of contempt of Court..."
"But, Your Honour," Justine began, "The guards took my..."
"Silence, prisoner!" the Judge commanded. The man standing beside Justine squeezed her upper arm very tightly, and placed his baton across her ribs, gently nudging the underside of her breasts with it. The message was clear: shut the fuck up, or else. Justine realized that she had just antagonized both the guards and the Judge; a mistake she was likely to regret.
The Judge cleared his throat again. "You will remain silent while sentence is passed. Do you understand?" Justine nodded meekly, wishing the guard would let go of her hair. "Yes, Your Honour," she mumbled.
"I am resolved," the Judge began, "to make an example of you. Your sentence will demonstrate by its severity that these crimes are not to be taken lightly, and that society will no longer tolerate such depravity and moral deviance. I therefore sentence you..." he paused, presumably for dramatic effect; Justine could barely breathe as she looked into his eyes, seeing no mercy there. "I therefore sentence you to serve a period of imprisonment with hard labour, including solitary confinement and special conditions, for a duration of not less than ten years."
Justine sagged, open-mouthed with shock, not believing what she heard. Only the guards' tight grip on her arms and hair prevented her from slumping to the floor. How had this gone so wrong? Her State-appointed lawyer had sworn she would get off with a slapped wrist, as long as she pleaded guilty. Her head swam... ten years? And what the fuck did he mean by "hard labour"? Dimly, she heard cheers and applause from the public gallery, and the Clerk shouting "Silence in Court!". The Judge rapped his gavel several times on his desk to restore order. Once the hubbub had subsided, he fixed Justine with a stony glare, and continued:
"Hard labour is specified as follows. You will perform menial, manual and strenuous physical work for not less than twelve hours a day, every day of the year, with no exceptions. Guards, overseers and wardens will punish you often, and severely, for the slightest hint of reluctance, using whips, electric prods and other motivational equipment." He licked his lips. "You will be worked in the nude, in chains, in public, in all weathers and in constant fear of the whip. Steel fetters will be permanently riveted around your wrists, ankles, waist and neck. Your hands will be chained behind your back at all times unless you are working, or restrained in some other fashion." The Judge paused for a moment, while an appreciative murmur rippled across the public gallery. Justine struggled to process what he was saying.
"Now we come to the special conditions. During transportation from the prison to the labour site, you will be tightly hooded and gagged, and confined in a small cage. The journey time, however long, will not be deducted from your working hours. Twice a day, during your work period, you will be fed a meal of slops and stale bread, which is to be thrown on to the ground and thoroughly trampled into the dirt, before you are allowed to eat; the officer responsible for your care is authorized to urinate on it as well. You will eat from the ground, kneeling, with hands chained behind your back as already specified. Toilet functions are to be performed in full view of staff and public. No other breaks or rest-periods are permitted. At the end of each day of arduous toil, you will be returned to prison in the same manner: gagged, hooded and caged. You will be hosed down with cold water. You will sleep on the floor of a bare isolation cell, with constant fluorescent lighting and closed-circuit television monitoring, either hog-tied on your belly, or on your back with arms and legs chained widely spread to ring-bolts set in the floor. This will ensure you do not touch yourself lewdly, or rub your thighs together, while you are in solitary confinement." The Judge licked his lips again, clearly warming to his theme.
"And that's if you behave perfectly. Any infractions of the rules, or hesitation in following orders, and you will spend the night on your feet, bent over, with your wrists pulled up behind you and secured to a hook in the ceiling. Further punishments may include being forced to work with coarse rope bound tightly around your breasts or through your crotch, or with a heavy ball and chain attached to your ankle. On occasion, you may be fitted with an anal stretching plug or a vaginal electric-shock probe. Your nipples, septum, tongue and clitoris will be pierced and ringed, and weights or bells may be affixed. Furthermore, you will be available for disciplinary sexual use at any time by staff members, and you will show your gratitude by thanking them for using you, otherwise you will be whipped without mercy. The public-spirited gentlemen who reported your criminal behaviour and brought you to justice..." he gestured towards the public gallery, where a couple of cheers and claps could be heard, "will have full access to you in your prison cell, so that they may be assured that strict justice is being done; they may assist in the administration of discipline by participating in your punishment however they see fit. You will thank them, too. Finally, any member of the public may, for a small fee payable to the prison governor, register temporarily as your husband, and enjoy private conjugal visits with you in your cell."
Justine barely took in his words. She looked around wildly for the treacherous lawyer, who had persuaded her to plead guilty, but he was nowhere to be seen. "No..." she shouted, "You can't do this! I've changed my mind... I'm not guilty! It's all lies! I haven't done anything! Please..." a sudden agonizing baton-blow to the belly silenced her instantly, and would have doubled her up had her hair not been held tightly in the meaty fist of one of the guards. She fought for breath as the pain slowly subsided, and realized the Judge was speaking again.
"Convict, your body is now the property of the State. You have forfeited all control over how it is treated. You will now be taken below, to a workshop beneath the Court, where you will be stripped naked and placed in permanent irons by a State-appointed blacksmith, while a brazier is set up and branding irons are heated. The Court will re-convene in one hour, to witness as the word "guilty" is burned permanently into your flesh. Your screams of agony will be a most effective deterrent, to anyone thinking of following your example."
The Judge stood up. "All rise!" shouted the Clerk. Everyone else in the Court got to their feet.
The Judge looked down at the wretched young convict, half naked and trembling in her chains between the two prison officers. He felt the warm glow of achievement that comes from the proper administration of justice, and was looking forward to enjoying a rather fine wine with his lunch, before returning to the courtroom to watch the branding. He nodded to the Clerk of the Court and the two prison officers, and said:
"Until then, get this piece of filth out of my sight. Court is adjourned. Take her down."
(Story and illustration by montycrusto, commissioned by stgapicbox/STGA)
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
Yes indeed, wow! Of course, I envy Justine a little and am curious what jurisdiction this judge operates in, test his harshness against male prisoners? I suppose Arkansas is a likely prospect, the competence of that lawyer rings a bell, @thehangingtree ?
twonines
LIMERICUS
That judge doesn`t believe in mollycoddling offenders, does he?
twonines
LIMERICUS
Yes, a bit harsh, even for you!All I can say is WOW, Monty! And, that I’m very glad I’m not Justine
M
montycrusto
Guest
His sense of justice is very firm and his sentences long and hard…
He could use a good editor then?and his sentences long and hard…
twonines
LIMERICUS
Someone has been in the knife box this morning.
wulf
God-Emperor
In Arkansas the public defender is paid by the state as in other places. But the difference is that his pay doubles if the defendant is found guilty.
Double ration of moonshine and two blue state girls to take home for the night?In Arkansas the public defender is paid by the state as in other places. But the difference is that his pay doubles if the defendant is found guilty.
wulf
God-Emperor
Yep... and if he loses a capital case, he gets to keep the girls permanently.
twonines
LIMERICUS
I hear they are specially imported from Minnesota.
MisTique
Spectator
Looks great! Really looking forward to other artworks.
John Delves Richardson
Governor
A great picture and a magnificent story, with a crescendo of perfectly described cruelties. Pichard would be proud of you!
Anwendungsfehler
Executioner
Nice Monty!
Jennica2
Executioner
M
montycrusto
Guest
“Repentance”
(ink on paper)
Closely based on Georges Pichard’s cover art for “The Road To Repentance”, this is my tribute to him and the inspiration his work has given me.
Last edited by a moderator:
Delicious! Here's Pichard's original:
As you say, very close, but I think if anything you've made her all the more tense and fearful - and the simple lines of your b&w drawing make the scene harsher, none of the softness that the colour inevitably adds.