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Priya's Punishment

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Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
As for Judge Martin Powers, he's a big fat jerk and I've deleted his phone number...

That’ll earn you a tweet storm :eek:
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
A Shavian quotation to boot.
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.
The original stage Eliza
1592612076529.png
Eliza in My Fair Lady
1592612218869.png
 

windar

Teller of Tales
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...
 

Fossy

Tribune
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...
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!
 

windar

Teller of Tales
A little bit later

Priya stirred, half awake. Her arm was draped over the torso of a sleeping male figure, his face turned away from her, her breasts pressed lightly against his back. “Sanjay?” she muttered.

But then she remembered, it wasn’t Sanjay. No, it was Windar, Barb’s Dean at the College. And there on the other side of him, was Barb herself. All three of them were naked, a remnant of their heated lovemaking session the previous evening.

No, she wouldn’t be in bed with Sanjay again. Not after the letter from his lawyer had arrived earlier that day. His demand for a divorce hadn’t come as a total surprise, really. In the couple of strained conversations they had had since her caning, he had perfunctorily inquired as to how she was doing before launching into a soliloquy about how embarrassed he was by her behavior and the fact that everyone had seen her naked and spread open and screaming in agony, not to mention having wild sex with Barb.

In one of the couple of brief phone conversations they had had, he had told her, “Everywhere I go, Priya, I get funny looks. From my clients, the neighbors, the deli guy at the supermarket. They all know I’m the husband of one of the women who was caned at Alvarez Arena. That’s who I’ll always be.”

No sympathy for the terrible pain and embarrassment she had endured. No, with Sanjay it was all about him. The bastard wanted a divorce? Well, not as badly as she did. John Kennedy, the lawyer who had handled her criminal case had arranged an appointment with an attorney he knew who handled divorces. Priya would, she hoped, get her fair share of their savings, which had been returned to them since she had shown up for her caning as required rather than fleeing to Mexico or somewhere, and they would have to reach an arrangement about their house. That would give her at least a modest cushion while she figured out what she wanted to do with her life now that the only profession she had ever practiced or wanted to practice was barred to her.

Even now, though the cuts had scabbed over and were healing well, certain movements still sent shots of pain through her ass.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t had access to the miraculous Trabco cream, so all they had to soothe the fire, which still burned even days after was the over the counter ointment that Alison Taylor had given them a tube of when she had discharged them.

Even to get that they had had to “thank her” for the medical care she had provided. Sometime after the VIPs had left, and the spectators had cleared out, leaving the arena as quiet as the morgue, Dr. Taylor had appeared before them, smiling wickedly.

“You worthless cunts should be happy that I made sure you got the full measure of punishment that the judge had ordered, instead of stopping it because one of you couldn’t control her bladder and one of you couldn’t control her mouth. Hopefully, that will keep you on the straight and narrow from now on.”

Priya and Barb didn’t say anything. What could one say to that, after all?

“I cleaned up the mess of blood all over your asses and all I got in return was a bunch of screaming and squirming. You owe me, don’t you think?”

Priya glanced up to see Dr. Taylor removing her lab coat and unbuttoning her shirt. She had always wondered where else her former colleague had piercings beside the ones she could see on her nose, lips and tongue and it looked like she was about to find out, as Dr. Taylor stripped off her shirt and bra and lowered her jeans and panties.

She was pierced pretty much everywhere a woman can be pierced-large studs in each nipple, a large safety pin in her navel and several smaller studs in her outer labia and clitoris and possibly a few more that Priya couldn’t see, but was likely to make an intimate acquaintance with very shortly.

In addition to the piercings, there were a number of rather ugly tattoos, one on each breast, one on each thigh and a few around her ankles and the on the tops of her feet. There were probably a few on her back and ass as well, though Priya couldn’t see them.

“You like what you see, Raman?” she asked.

“Yes, sure,” Priya replied non-committaly.

“What about you, Moore? I think a nice clit piercing and couple of tats on your boobs would look good on you, don’t you?” Barb didn’t reply. “That’s OK, Moore, Mike and George have given you a bunch of pretty good tattoos on your ass.” Dr. Taylor laughed like that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

“Well, enough chit-chat. I’ve worked up a powerful head of steam watching you two shaking your booties out there on the floor as the rattans stripped the skin off your worthless asses. I need to get off real bad. Raman, show me what you can do.” She brought over a stool and plunked herself down with her pussy right in front of Priya’s face.

Priya wondered at the nerve of Taylor doing the very thing that had gotten Priya where she was right now. When she had worked at the Punishment Center, she had heard rumors that Taylor had connections to the Chief of Corrections somehow or other and was basically untouchable. It seemed likely that either those rumors were true or that Taylor believed , since there would be no supporting evidence of the miraculous healing that had backed up Susan and Rebecca’s story in Priya’s case, she could just deny any accusations as motivated by revenge and get away with her crime.

Regardless, Priya didn’t feel she was in a position to say no. Besides, she really wanted to see if Alison Taylor had any hidden piercings. Reaching out, she ran the index and middle fingers of her right hand along the good doctor’s slit spreading the outer labia open. There didn’t appear to be any further piercings, but there was a good deal of moisture. Dr. Taylor wasn’t lying when she said that the canings had gotten her hot and bothered.

Alison Taylor slid her ass forward on the stool so that her crotch was right in Priya’s face. “Come on, Raman, get that tongue in there.” After a day of humiliation and pain, what was one more task to perform? Priya stuck her tongue out and began licking from the bottom of Dr. Taylor’s pussy up to the nub of sensitive flesh at the top and then down again.

“Goddamn, that feels good!” Taylor growled. “You better keep going, cunt, or I’ll have them take the rest of the skin off your ass.”

Priya kept going as Taylor chanted a string of imprecations that would have done a Marine proud, her hand tugging on Priya’s hair, making sure Priya’s tongue stayed put on the spot that would take her over the edge.

“I’m almost there, Raman. Now, stick a finger in my asshole.” Priya reached around Dr. Taylor’s ass, running her middle finger into the crack until it found the opening and sunk in to the first knuckle. That’s it, bitch, fuck, yeah, I’m gonna cum,” Taylor shouted, before she dissolved into wordless grunts and groans as the pleasure took control.

Slowly, Taylor released her grip on Priya’s hair and edged back on the stool. “That wasn’t bad, Raman. Did you learn that from your girlfriend?” she asked inclining her head in Barb’s direction.

“Perhaps,” Priya replied.

“Well, give me a few minutes to recuperate and then we’ll see how Moore does. Whoever did better gets a scoop of ice cream.”

***​

The next day they had been released. Their clothes had been returned to them, and their efforts to carefully maneuver their lower garments over their swollen and burning buttocks provoked yelps of pain. Finally, once they were more or less dressed, Dr. Taylor had escorted them to the Players’ Entrance where Windar waited beside his car.

“They’re all yours, Dean,” she had said. Carefully, he helped them into the car, Barb in front and Priya in the back. “You two cunts better behave for the Dean or you’ll be back here for another session,” Dr. Taylor cackled.

The ride back to Windar’s house had been pure hell even though it was little more than five minutes away. The contact of her sore flesh against the car seat sent every nerve in her buttocks into protest mode. From the wriggling and mewling in the front seat, Priya knew that Barb was in just as much pain as she was. When they arrived, they went straight to their rooms, stripping off their clothes and lying face down on their beds.

For the few days after their caning, Windar had left them alone to heal and gather strength. Four times a day, Priya applied ointment to Barb’s ass, carefully daubing it on the tender cheeks. Barb had gladly returned the favor. Unfortunately, given the severity of the twenty four stroke caning, Priya knew that even though the cuts were healing well even without the Trabco cream, there would almost certainly be some permanent scarring. It would serve as a lifelong reminder of her stupidity and the price she had paid for it. Of course, that was the point of the judicial corporal punishment, as the Chief had made clear to the crowd; that and providing a spectacle to divert the masses from their cares and worries.

After a few day, things had begun to change. The women had been grabbing snacks out of the refrigerator and the things lying around, but slowly their appetites had returned. Windar had noticed and approached them as they were scavenging breakfast. “Since we’re a happy little household for the moment, we should have dinner together tonight don’t you think?”

“Windy, you know we can’t sit down,” Barb had replied.

“That’s OK, you can eat standing up after you serve me. And let’s make it a nice home-cooked meal.”

“You wouldn’t want to eat anything I cooked,” Barb replied.

“What about you, Priya?” he asked.

“Well, Sanjay, that bastard, used to like what I made him.”

“Then, it’s set,” Windar said. “Priya will cook and Barb will clean up. And, to protect your sensitive skins against any splatter, I have just the ticket.” He disappeared into his bedroom and returned holding two frilly French Maid style aprons.

“You’re not serious?” Barb said.

“What’s wrong with them?” he asked.

“They barely cover anything,” Priya said.

Windar just smiled. “Try them on,” he said. The women sighed and rolled their eyes, but they put them on. “Come closer,” he said. They shuffled over towards him.

“Turn around,” he ordered. They turned. Their welted rears were left completely uncovered. “Perfect,” he said. “The fabric in front will catch any splatter and spill, but your butts are open to the air to promote healing. Priya, think about what you want to make and give me a shopping list before I leave. I’ll stop at the supermarket on the way home from the college. This is going to be fun,” he said.

***​

And the dinner had been fun, Priya had thought, at least as much fun as one could have when one’s ass was still bruised and aching and one was eating standing up. But, a few bottles of wine between the three of them eased the pain at least a little bit.

After Barb had cleared the plates, Windar leaned back and said, “This is a nice little domestic scene, I must say. I would hope we could make this into something a little more permanent.”

“What do you mean?” Barb asked.

“I spoke to the chair of the Committee,” he said. “I think I can persuade them to let you remain in your position on condition that you promise in writing to confine your thoughts on our justice system to published articles. We would never want to interfere with your First Amendment freedoms. And you will be on probationary status, so any run-ins with the law will result in immediate termination even before a formal verdict. Can you agree to that?”

Barb thought for a moment, before replying. “Windy, I’m done with disrupting your friend’s courtroom. Those protests didn’t change anything. They do say the pen is mightier than the sword, so we’ll find out. I plan to write a book about my experiences.”

“That’s fine, Barb. I hope it becomes a best seller. There’s a site I know where you can self-publish if you spice it up a bit.” Then he turned towards Priya, “As for you, where do you see yourself going?”

The classic job interview question, though this was the first job interview Priya had had where she was dressed in a skimpy French Maid’s costume and nothing else. She suspected it might not be the last. “I hadn’t really given it any thought. I’m just trying to get to where my ass doesn’t shoot pain up my spine every time I move. It won’t be as a doctor, that’s for sure. I had to surrender my license.”

“I know that,” Windar replied. “I’ve been thinking. The woman who has been running the undergrad biology labs for years is retiring. You may even have had her when you were a student here. So, I was thinking, you might be perfect for that. Of course, we can’t pay you what you were making as a doctor, but as long as you’re staying here with me, it should be enough, while you figure out if you want to stay here in Dorsbury, which I hope you will, or do something else.”

“That sounds very interesting, Dean. I think I do remember her.”

“Well at least until you figure out something better, Priya. In the meantime, you guys are still under my care and direction and I hope we can become close, if you get my drift. I want to be able to report to Judge Marty that you’ve both been on your best behavior. I would hate to see you guys have any further issues.”

“What did you have in mind, Windy?” Barb asked, glancing knowingly at Priya.

“Perhaps we could retire to my bedroom and get to know each other a bit better?” he suggested. “I know I’m a bit on the old side for you two youngsters, but I do try to stay in shape and hanging around a college has kept me from becoming too much of an old fogey, I hope. I know you guys are more interested in each other than in me, and I’m fine with that, just as long as I get to get to join in every now and then.”

Priya looked at Barb. She did look awfully cute in that outfit. Priya knew how much Barb wanted to keep her job. And old Windar didn’t seem like such a bad guy. He certainly appeared more sympathetic to their plight than Sanjay had. Priya nodded. Barb nodded.

And so it was that a little bit later, Barb was on all fours behind Priya, who was similarly on all fours, with her tongue planted firmly on Priya’s clit and her fingers deep in Priya’s pussy. Windar was behind Barb, taking her from behind, gently so as to disturb her still aching ass as little as possible within the limits of a very horny man trying to satisfy his needs as well as hers.

All Priya knew was that it felt very good. Barb’s tongue was bringing her closer and closer to her peak and she could feel Barb’s hot breath on her ass and hear Windar saying, “Goddamn, Moore, I’ve waited years for this!” as he moved faster inside her.

Soon, Priya could feel that Windar was thrusting faster. Each of his thrust pushed Barb’s tongue more firmly against her pleasure center. “Oh, God!” she moaned.

“Oh, God!” Windar moaned. “I’m coming!”

“Mmm!” Barb moaned as Priya went over the edge, shaking and shivering as the waves of pleasure coursed through her body, which had known only pain the last little while. The three of them collapsed in a heap of sweaty naked flesh.

Later, as they were recovering, Windar said, “Listen, ladies, I had to promise Judge Marty a foursome in order to get you guys released into my custody, I know it’s not a pleasant prospect for you guys-hell, it’s not something I’m looking forward to either. I’ll put him off as long as I can, but eventually we’ll have to do it. But for now, how about I get a turn with you, Priya, while you take care of Barb?”

This could be the end, but I think Barb would like the last word, so stay tuned...
 

Fossy

Tribune
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.
 

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Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
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.

Hey!!! Who took those photos! That was supposed to be private!!!
 

windar

Teller of Tales
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?

Hey!!! Who took those photos! That was supposed to be private!!!
There's a motion activated camera. You shouldn't have moved so much, Moore!!!
 
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