I confess that I did steal Eliza Doolittle's most famous line from Pygmalion, which I believe is a favorite of @Barbaria1 . It was considered very shocking at the time, 1913, and the actress delivering it was considered to have risked her career by speaking the line on stage. However, it soon became the talk of London (who could condemn the lovely Eliza?) and for many years after the play's debut, use of the word 'bloody' was known as a pygmalion.A Shavian quotation to boot.
Almost finished? Priya and Barb living in subservience to Windy is a story all on its own! And what will Sanjay have to say? Loved it!Priya was only dimly aware that Beth had removed the belt around her waist and the leather straps around her wrists and ankles that had held her immobilized against the frame. She was in her own world of agony, floating above the basketball court, soaring up to the rafters of the arena, anywhere except on the rotating platform spread wide for the world to see.
In the Emergency Room, she had typically asked patients to rate their pain on a scale from one to ten. Hers was a twenty. Not just her ass, which burned as though it were being held on a hot stove, unable to lift off the burner, but her whole body. Every muscle ached from the strain of having fought uselessly for release from the bonds that had held her.
But, now that she was finally released, something she had desperately longed for as the cruel rattan had ravaged her ass flesh, she lacked the strength to get up. She felt Beth tug on her arm. “Come on, Priya, it’s over now. You can get up,” she said, softly.
‘So now that I’ve paid my debt to society, it’s Priya in a nice tone of voice, not Raman, bitch or cunt in a harsh one,’ she thought to herself.
“Let me help you,” Sue added, taking hold of her other arm. Together, they held Priya up. Her legs felt woozy and the arena spun around. “You’re OK. Get your feet under you,” Sue said. Priya draped one arm around Sue’s shoulder and the other arm around Beth’s. Priya could see Barb still lying strapped to the frame. She hoped they would come back to help her up as well.
Slowly, they made their way off the platform and across the basketball court towards the tunnel that led back to the locker room. Priya felt her soft breasts rubbing against the rough fabric of the two guards’ state-issued uniforms.
Around her as she entered the tunnel was a blur of noise and faces, a few that she recognized from various places around town, including a couple of nurses and one of the cafeteria ladies from the hospital. She made eye contact for a second, then looked down at her feet trying, unsuccessfully, not to step on any of the spilled popcorn and beer that littered the rough concrete floor.
There in front of her was the salesman who had sold her her last car. Maybe he’d take pity on her and give her a good deal on the next one. A few spaces away from him was the plumber who’d unclogged her downstairs toilet. Priya wondered how he’d felt watching her piss all over the floor instead of in the toilet he’d fixed.
Finally, they reached the locker room, where two cots had been set out next to the benches where they had disrobed prior to their floggings. Sue and Beth maneuvered Priya onto one of the cots, face down. She lay there, totally drained, her ass still screaming at her with even the slightest movement.
Soon, Sue and Beth returned, this time supporting Barb, who looked every bit as unsteady on her feet as Priya had been. Her mouth was still covered by Sue’s impromptu gag, but her eyes showed her distress in a way no one could miss.
The two guards helped her to lie on the cot next to Priya. Her ass, the ass that Priya lad loved to kiss when they had been in bed together, was a mess of cuts and abraded skin, streaked with blood in multiple places. Priya had seen Barb’s ass in close up, along with her own, on the big screen in the arena, but, still, the sight of it in the flesh was shocking.
“Barb,” Priya whispered, reaching out her hand. Barb grasped it.
“No touching, you sluts!” Sue ordered, yanking Priya’s hand away. Still, even the momentary physical contact had been comforting.
Priya heard voices approaching; male voices chattering excitedly as they filed into the room, forming a circle around the two well beaten women lying on their cots.
There were a good dozen or so, many of the VIPs who had been there when she and Barb had been stripped and coerced into making love to provide them with a titillating show. There was the Chief of Corrections, her former boss, Paul, the Attorney General, the District Attorney, Judge Powers and a man she didn’t know whom she had noticed sitting next to the judge in the VIP section in the arena who seemed to be staring longingly at Barb. She wondered where Sanjay was. Not here, that was certain.
“Well, gentlemen, this is the majesty of our justice system,” the Attorney General said, his arm stretched out expansively towards Priya and Barb’s bruised and bleeding buttocks displayed side by side in the cots like twin round loaves on a bakery shelf. “The guilty are punished, the public is duly warned of the consequences of lawbreaking and the taxpayers aren’t burdened with their care. In fact, although we are still tallying the numbers, between ticket sales and a share of the refreshment and souvenir sales, the State is certain to make a nice healthy profit.”
“But of course,” he continued, “The main purpose of this spectacle was not to pique the prurient interests of the citizenry, but to shame the wrongdoers and make them suffer to a degree that will forever deter them from such conduct in the future. Perhaps we should ask them if we accomplished that goal.”
“Dr. Raman, are you sorry for what you did?” the AG demanded. Priya looked up at the unsympathetic faces staring down at her. Even the use of her title hurt; though still an MD, her cherished profession had been taken from her through her own stupidity.
In fact, Priya was sorry. To have risked her profession and this awful punishment, the pain of which had barely ebbed, and being forced to make a spectacle of herself in front of the entire town and the whole world, bringing shame on Sanjay and her family, all for some sexual pleasure and a foolish desire to relive experiences she had had as an undergraduate that she should have put behind her, for all that she was indeed sorry.
“Yes, I’m so sorry. I did a very foolish thing,” Priya admitted.
Her old boss, Paul spoke up. “Yes, you did, Priya. I thought I knew you, but you surprised me. You’ve paid a steep price, as you should. I’m sure if you had it to do over again, you would make a different choice.”
These words, spoken by someone she had liked and had a good relationship with, caused Priya to burst into tears, for all she had suffered and all she had lost from her own bad choices. Her naked body shook as the waves of anguish washed over her. Every eye was on her as, completely broken by her public humiliation and suffering, she gave herself over to the emotions that had been building ever since that phone call from Paul.
Finally, Priya’s sobs ebbed as exhaustion, physical and mental, took over. “Perhaps, Professor Moore would care to comment,” the AG said, turning his attention to the body lying prone on the cot next to Priya. “She is one of the few since the corporal punishment laws went into effect to come back for a return engagement. Can we hope that she has finally learned that such illegal and disrespectful protests are not going to be tolerated?”
Some wordless groans came from the direction of Barb’s head. “I can’t hear you, Professor,” Judge Powers said. More groans were Barb’s only response.
“Gentlemen, the gag,” the Chief of Corrections said. The observers looked sheepish. How could they have forgotten that Barb was still gagged?
Sue strode forward purposefully, untied the surgical mask, reached her thick fingers into Barb’s mouth and yanked out the panties that had been stuffed in there. They were soaked with her saliva. Sue looked disgusted as she tossed them into an unused corner of the locker room. “Now you answer the question, Moore!” she ordered.
Barb struggled to respond, whether because her mouth was still recovering from the effects of the cloth that had been jammed into it or because she was genuinely trying to formulate an answer. Finally, Barb managed to mumble, “Yes, I’m sorry.”
Sue grabbed her hair and twisted the sweat-soaked brown strands into an impromptu pony tail, which she yanked on hard. The motion pulled Barb’s head and upper torso off of the cot, exposing her breasts and causing her to howl. “Louder, cunt! These fine gentlemen didn’t hear you!”
“I’m sorry!” Barb yelled. “Sorry! I’ll behave now, please!” Sue gave a last tug, before letting Barb’s head fall back onto the cot.
“I should hope so, young lady,” Judge Powers said. “If you disrupt my courtroom again, I can assure you that I will impose a punishment that will make this one seem like a walk in the park.”
“So you see, gentlemen,” the Attorney General said, “A good caning can cause even the most hardened criminal to rethink their antisocial ways. I hope you will remember the good work we’re doing for this State when my re-election campaign asks for a small contribution.”
The bigwigs were all guffawing and slapping each other’s backs, when the no-nonsense figure of Dr. Alison Taylor made its way through the bystanders, carrying a large bottle of rubbing alcohol in one hand and a box of gauze pads in the other. “Well, now that these two bitches have apologized for their bad behavior, it’s time we fixed their hindquarters up. Can’t have them getting infected and ending up in the hospital at the taxpayer’s expense, can we?”
There was a chorus of “Certainly not!” from the onlookers.
“Good. Then I can use some help,” the doctor announced. “I need a couple of volunteers to hold Moore down while I clean her up.”
Judge Powers eagerly stepped forward. “Windy, that sounds like a job you and I can handle. Where do you want us, doc?”
“You sit on her legs, Your Honor,” Dr. Taylor replied, “And the Dean can sit on her back.” The corpulent jurist straddled the cot, facing Barb’s head, and lowered his bulk onto her thighs. Dean Windar lowered himself onto her lower back, facing her feet. All that showed between the two friends were the twin bruised and whealed globes of Barb’s tight little ass.
Her victim secured, the good doctor opened the box of gauze pads, removed one from its protective envelope and saturated it with the alcohol. Within a second of her pressing the pad onto one of the worst cuts on Barb’s buttocks, the poor Professor shrieked loudly enough to peel the low budget paint that the college had chosen off the walls of the locker room.
As the liquid worked deeply into the inflamed cuts, Barb wriggled like a fish newly landed in the bottom of a boat. The Judge and the Dean had to press their weight hard onto her lithe body to keep her from moving too much. “Quite a ride, there Windy, isn’t it. Just imagining her in bed has me hot to trot.” Windar said nothing, but had a far-away look in his eyes.
“Yes, boys, she’s a live one,” Dr. Taylor said. “But keep her still. I’ve got a job to do.” She continued dabbing at Barb’s wounds, stopping every so often to discard a bloodied pad and soak a new one in alcohol. By now, Barb’s shrieks had diminished to a low plaintive yelp and her struggles, while still sufficient to provide some erotic excitement to Judge Powers and Dean Windar, had waned somewhat.
Finally, Dr. Taylor had cleaned up the blood and disinfected the cuts to her satisfaction. “OK, boys, you can get up now,” she told her two assistants. As they stood, Priya couldn’t help noticing that both of them had obvious bulges in their crotches. “If you two need to visit the little boys’ room to take care of those, feel free,” the doc announced, poking Judge Powers in the arm. The onlookers laughed heartily.
“Ok, now I need a couple of you to help me with Raman.” Priya was ashamed to see her former boss, Paul, and his boss, the Chief of Corrections, step forward and straddle her, Paul on her back and the Chief on her legs.
Dr. Taylor set to work on Priya. The touch of the alcohol soaked cotton on the lower layers of skin and fat that had been exposed by the rattan was unbearable. Just as Barb had done, Priya screamed and jerked on the cot, desperate to escape the attentions of her former colleague in the medical profession.
But Paul and the Chief kept her pinned down, no doubt being treated to the same arousing sensations that the Judge and the Dean had experienced with Barb. When they got up, though, Priya was too distracted by the agonizing fire in her ass flesh to notice whether they were equally aroused.
Dr. Taylor took a tube of ointment out of the pocket of her lab coat. “Now that they’ve been disinfected, we need to dress the wounds,” she announced. “No need to hold them down; this isn’t going to hurt.” Priya sensed a bit of disappointment on Taylor’s part at that.
And, to be fair, the ointment didn’t hurt. It was mildly soothing in fact. “Now of course, this is over the counter ointment, not Raman’s miracle cream, so I wouldn’t count on your asses healing up with no scarring. Twenty four is gonna leave some marks, that’s for sure. But this stuff is legal and won’t get me into any trouble,” she chortled.
Finally, the doctor was done. “I’m going to have to keep these two here overnight. I need to keep an eye on them after an ordeal like they’ve been through. After that, in the morning, where are they going?”
The DA looked at Judge Powers. “Your Honor, I would like to hold them in custody and question them further. I don’t believe that Moore showed up in your courtroom just out of the blue. I think they cooked this little scheme up together, probably in bed after one of their girl-on-girl love sessions.”
Judge Powers looked at his friend Windar. “I’m inclined to agree that we need to look into possible conspiracy charges. However, given the state of their asses, I think they’re going to need care for a while even after Dr. Taylor finishes with them.” Dr. Taylor nodded her agreement.
“Given that, I’m not sure your jail is the best place for them. I’m thinking it would be best to release them into the custody of an upstanding member of the community who can make sure that they behave and are available for questioning regarding any possible conspiracy charges. Then, any medical care they need can be on them rather than the poor taxpayers.”
“As long as I can question them as need be, I’m willing to agree to that. Who did you have in mind, Your Honor?”
Judge Powers pretended to ponder this. “Well, Dean Windar is certainly a respected figure in Dorsbury and I can vouch for his character personally. He’s already used to dealing with Professor Moore’s intemperate ways and I’m sure he can handle Dr. Raman as well. His house is quite spacious, large enough to accommodate these two ne’er-do-wells. But of course, he’d have to be willing to take on the responsibility. What do you say, Windy?”
Dean Windar pretended to think hard about this proposal. “Well, Marty, I mean, Your Honor, I think there are times when every citizen must make sacrifices for the common good. So, in that spirit, I will accept the responsibility that you have chosen to honor me with.”
Judge Powers smiled. “Very good, Windy. I’m grateful to you for your public spiritedness, as are the people of Dorsbury. Now you girls are under strict orders to obey Dean Windar. If I hear anything bad from him, I will have you back here bent over those frames for a few dozen more from George and Mike. Do I make myself clear?”
Lacking his gavel, Judge Powers banged his fist against one of the lockers. “So ordered!” he said. “Now we best leave these two to the tender care of Dr. Taylor.”
Almost finished, but not quite...
Dean Windar pretended to think hard about this proposal.
This could be the end, but I think Barb would like the last word, so stay tuned...
Great writing as usual,Windar.
We have had Maximum Marty and now is it to be Last Word Moore?
Did anyone else wonder if this was a metaphor (or should that be meta'phwoarrr!') - Wonderful stuff Windy ... there just has to be more written somewhere at some point about what happens to Barb and Priya after this is over ... Thank you my friend for a superb read as always.Whoever did better gets a scoop of ice cream
Did anyone else wonder if this was a metaphor (or should that be meta'phwoarrr!') - Wonderful stuff Windy ... there just has to be more written somewhere at some point about what happens to Barb and Priya after this is over ... Thank you my friend for a superb read as always.
Ice cream as a metaphor? Like for licking?Did anyone else wonder if this was a metaphor (or should that be meta'phwoarrr!') - Wonderful stuff Windy ... there just has to be more written somewhere at some point about what happens to Barb and Priya after this is over ... Thank you my friend for a superb read as always.
There's a motion activated camera. You shouldn't have moved so much, Moore!!!Hey!!! Who took those photos! That was supposed to be private!!!