• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

Trabbian Justice

Go to CruxDreams.com

windar

Teller of Tales
I thought I would begin posting a story I have written. It starts a bit slow, to set the scene and the characters, but I promise the action will pick up.

All comments are most welcome. Here is the first installment.


Chapter 1: An Invitation to Trabbia



Although she was a pre-med student, East Asian Studies 305, a seminar class on the history and culture of South East Asia, was 19 year-old college sophomore Priya Narayan’s favorite class this semester. Partly it was because the class was small, with just 8 students, partly it was because it put her in closer touch with her Asian heritage, but mostly it was because of the professor, Susan Gelden. At 42, short, with curly black hair beginning to show grey, the twice-divorced, Dr. Gelden was a devoted teacher and a popular figure on the campus of Dorsbury College, a prestigious college in a lovely New England village at the foot of the mountains. Priya, the 19 year-old daughter of Indian immigrant doctors, was mid-height, with medium-sized breasts, long, straight black hair and a lovely coffee complexion. Though she would never have admitted it, she had a bit of a crush on the professor.

Dr. Gelden was winding up her lecture on the religious belief system of the ancient Khmer kingdom. Looking at the clock, she concluded, “That’s all we have time for today.” As the students were gathering up their belongings, Professor Gelden interjected, “Sarah, Jennifer and Priya, if you have a moment would you mind staying after class?” Jennifer Collins, 20, was a tall, slim, fair-skinned, athletic redhead who played on the field hockey team. Her girl-friend, Sarah Motello, also 20, was shorter, large-breasted, brunette and olive-skinned. They were the 3 best students in the class, so they doubted their professor was displeased with them and wondered what was up.

They gathered in front of the professor’s small desk as Susan began, “I’m sure you all remember my lecture last week about the ancient Cheronian temples recently discovered in the jungle at Mongha in modern-day Trabbia.” The girls all nodded. “Well, the Trabbian government has invited foreign scholars to work with their experts in excavating the ruins. One of those who have been invited is yours truly.”

“That’s great, congratulations,” said Jennifer. The other girls all nodded in agreement. “But what does that have to do with us?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Susan continued. “The Trabbians have set aside visas and funds for me to bring 3 assistants when I go this summer and I couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than my 3 best students. I’ve agreed to go at the end of May, after classes are over, and stay for 2 months, all expenses paid. This could be a really great opportunity for you to learn about both the culture of ancient Cheronia and modern-day Trabbia and to possibly be authors on a paper. Take a few days and think about it. Right now, I have to run to a faculty meeting, but if you have any questions, feel free to stop by my office.” With that the professor strode purposefully out of the room, leaving the 3 intrigued students behind.

Priya looked at her 2 classmates. “It sounds fascinating.”

“It does,” Sarah agreed, “Certainly more exciting than working in Mom and Dad’s restaurant like I did last summer.”

“And we could be together the whole time instead of visiting for a weekend with our parents around,” Jen said, with a devilish grin, reaching over to pinch Sarah’s ample butt.

“Mmm, we could, couldn’t we?” Sarah replied, smiling broadly.

While not a virgin, Priya’s sexual experience was very limited, consisting of a 3-week liaison during her freshman year with a boy from her Intro Genetics class, during which they had had rather unsatisfying sex (for Priya, at least) a total of 4 times. Priya had certainly never been with another girl, nor had she even thought about it, but seeing the lust in Sarah and Jennifer’s eyes, she couldn’t help having a momentary fantasy about how it would be to be rolling around naked with her two attractive classmates. Blushing at the thought, and hoping Sarah and Jen were too absorbed with each other to notice, Priya told them, “I have to run to the Physiology lab right now, but this sounds like a great opportunity. I want to get some more information and talk some more with the Prof, but it sounds good.” Then she turned and hurried off towards the Science Building.

Later that evening, Priya sat in her dorm room, finishing the last of the 20 pages of assigned reading in Organic Chemistry. Her roommate was out as usual, staying at her boyfriend’s off campus apartment. Although she normally gave her studies her full attention, tonight Priya’s thoughts kept returning to Professor Gelden. Priya had often seen Susan running across campus in her brief shorts and had admired how fit and trim her body was; frankly she looked better than many of the students 20 or 25 years younger than her, Now Priya had a chance to spend a summer living and working with her in an exotic jungle.

Priya opened her lap top and searched “Mongha temple”. She found some fabulous photos of the ancient Cheronian structures, with various renowned experts touting them as “the little-known wonders of the ancient world”. She also searched for news stories about modern-day Trabbia. That was considerably less glowing, especially the reports from various human rights groups. In particular, there were several pieces about the use of corporal punishment for even minor offenses, and it seemed the Trabbians, unlike some other countries in the region, did not exempt females from those punishments.

Priya tried to visualize what the various reports meant when they talked about canings, but really couldn’t. She had never even been spanked, let alone caned, nor did she know anyone who had. She would really have to ask Professor Gelden about that.

TO BE CONTINUED
 

windar

Teller of Tales
Fab Start! :)

Thank you. I hope you like the next part. Here it is


The next morning Priya ran into Jennifer and Sarah at breakfast in the cafeteria. She told them about what she had found out about Trabbia on line, though not, of course, about her reaction. They had found similar information of course and shared her concerns. They decided that the best course of action would be to go see Professor Gelden and discuss things with her. So, a few minutes later, the 3 students knocked on the door of Dr. Gelden’s office. “Come in,” said Susan. “Sit down” she continued, indicating some chairs at a table with a few stacks of papers at one end. “Have you had a chance to consider my offer?” she continued.

After glancing at her 2 friends, Priya spoke up. “We are very touched that you chose us. And the temples sound really interesting and I’d love to be a part of these pioneering excavations. I guess my main concern is some of the things we found on line about Trabbia. I mean they beat people with canes, females included, for even minor crimes like littering and drug possession and prostitution. That just sounds barbaric.” Sarah and Jennifer nodded to show that they shared Priya’s concerns.

Susan let Priya finish before replying. “I’m not going to pretend those reports aren’t true. They are. I’ve studied their history and culture, so I can see where they are coming from, at least to some extent. Up until 20 years ago, their country was very backward and quite chaotic. Then a new government took over, stressing order and development. They have made amazing strides in their economy and most people there are able to lead a decent life for the first time. They are very concerned about backsliding into the ways of the past and also worry that the Western technology they have embraced will bring some of the bad aspects of Western society, like drugs and crime and what they see as lax morality.”

“So, in order to prevent that, they take a very tough stance. They feel that if they really crack down on what we would consider minor crimes, they can make society work for the large majority of people. And really, who are we to say they are wrong? Yes, they cane minor offenders. What I’ve read about it is that it’s a horrible experience, terribly painful and humiliating. But look what we do here in the US; we have more people in prison than any other country and they sit there for many years with little or nothing to do and no preparation for their return to society. Are we really any better?”

“Well, when you put in that way,” said Jennifer, “I guess I can understand their position. Still I wouldn’t like to be caned.”

“Nor would I,” replied Susan. “But really, we aren’t planning to go there to violate their laws are we? I mean, we are going at the invitation of the Trabbian government to help them study one of their national treasures. All we need to do is focus on the task at hand and everything will be fine.”

Those reassuring words from the professor calmed the student’s fears and made the trip seem like a great idea. After all, spending a summer on an archeological dig in an exotic East Asian country sounded a whole lot more exciting than spending it back home with Mom and Dad working at the local burger joint or summer camp. So, after the school year was over, the 3 students and their professor, dressed for the tropics in T-shirts, shorts or thin cotton skirts and sandals, piled into the campus van for the drive to New York. There, they caught the long flight to Bangkok. After a short layover, they got on another plane for the 2 hour flight to Pranda, the capital of Trabbia.

TO BE CONTINUED
 

rb1956

Lone Wolf
I thought I would begin posting a story I have written. It starts a bit slow, to set the scene and the characters, but I promise the action will pick up.

All comments are most welcome. Here is the first installment.


Chapter 1: An Invitation to Trabbia



Although she was a pre-med student, East Asian Studies 305, a seminar class on the history and culture of South East Asia, was 19 year-old college sophomore Priya Narayan’s favorite class this semester. Partly it was because the class was small, with just 8 students, partly it was because it put her in closer touch with her Asian heritage, but mostly it was because of the professor, Susan Gelden. At 42, short, with curly black hair beginning to show grey, the twice-divorced, Dr. Gelden was a devoted teacher and a popular figure on the campus of Dorsbury College, a prestigious college in a lovely New England village at the foot of the mountains. Priya, the 19 year-old daughter of Indian immigrant doctors, was mid-height, with medium-sized breasts, long, straight black hair and a lovely coffee complexion. Though she would never have admitted it, she had a bit of a crush on the professor.

Dr. Gelden was winding up her lecture on the religious belief system of the ancient Khmer kingdom. Looking at the clock, she concluded, “That’s all we have time for today.” As the students were gathering up their belongings, Professor Gelden interjected, “Sarah, Jennifer and Priya, if you have a moment would you mind staying after class?” Jennifer Collins, 20, was a tall, slim, fair-skinned, athletic redhead who played on the field hockey team. Her girl-friend, Sarah Motello, also 20, was shorter, large-breasted, brunette and olive-skinned. They were the 3 best students in the class, so they doubted their professor was displeased with them and wondered what was up.

They gathered in front of the professor’s small desk as Susan began, “I’m sure you all remember my lecture last week about the ancient Cheronian temples recently discovered in the jungle at Mongha in modern-day Trabbia.” The girls all nodded. “Well, the Trabbian government has invited foreign scholars to work with their experts in excavating the ruins. One of those who have been invited is yours truly.”

“That’s great, congratulations,” said Jennifer. The other girls all nodded in agreement. “But what does that have to do with us?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Susan continued. “The Trabbians have set aside visas and funds for me to bring 3 assistants when I go this summer and I couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than my 3 best students. I’ve agreed to go at the end of May, after classes are over, and stay for 2 months, all expenses paid. This could be a really great opportunity for you to learn about both the culture of ancient Cheronia and modern-day Trabbia and to possibly be authors on a paper. Take a few days and think about it. Right now, I have to run to a faculty meeting, but if you have any questions, feel free to stop by my office.” With that the professor strode purposefully out of the room, leaving the 3 intrigued students behind.

Priya looked at her 2 classmates. “It sounds fascinating.”

“It does,” Sarah agreed, “Certainly more exciting than working in Mom and Dad’s restaurant like I did last summer.”

“And we could be together the whole time instead of visiting for a weekend with our parents around,” Jen said, with a devilish grin, reaching over to pinch Sarah’s ample butt.

“Mmm, we could, couldn’t we?” Sarah replied, smiling broadly.

While not a virgin, Priya’s sexual experience was very limited, consisting of a 3-week liaison during her freshman year with a boy from her Intro Genetics class, during which they had had rather unsatisfying sex (for Priya, at least) a total of 4 times. Priya had certainly never been with another girl, nor had she even thought about it, but seeing the lust in Sarah and Jennifer’s eyes, she couldn’t help having a momentary fantasy about how it would be to be rolling around naked with her two attractive classmates. Blushing at the thought, and hoping Sarah and Jen were too absorbed with each other to notice, Priya told them, “I have to run to the Physiology lab right now, but this sounds like a great opportunity. I want to get some more information and talk some more with the Prof, but it sounds good.” Then she turned and hurried off towards the Science Building.

Later that evening, Priya sat in her dorm room, finishing the last of the 20 pages of assigned reading in Organic Chemistry. Her roommate was out as usual, staying at her boyfriend’s off campus apartment. Although she normally gave her studies her full attention, tonight Priya’s thoughts kept returning to Professor Gelden. Priya had often seen Susan running across campus in her brief shorts and had admired how fit and trim her body was; frankly she looked better than many of the students 20 or 25 years younger than her, Now Priya had a chance to spend a summer living and working with her in an exotic jungle.

Priya opened her lap top and searched “Mongha temple”. She found some fabulous photos of the ancient Cheronian structures, with various renowned experts touting them as “the little-known wonders of the ancient world”. She also searched for news stories about modern-day Trabbia. That was considerably less glowing, especially the reports from various human rights groups. In particular, there were several pieces about the use of corporal punishment for even minor offenses, and it seemed the Trabbians, unlike some other countries in the region, did not exempt females from those punishments.

Priya tried to visualize what the various reports meant when they talked about canings, but really couldn’t. She had never even been spanked, let alone caned, nor did she know anyone who had. She would really have to ask Professor Gelden about that.

TO BE CONTINUED
good beginning..look forward to the rest.
 

Jollyrei

Angelus Mortis
Staff member
“...we aren’t planning to go there to violate their laws are we?...All we need to do is focus on the task at hand and everything will be fine.”

Of course it will. What could go wrong? :rolleyes::confused::devil:

Love the start of the story - I don't find it too slow at all. Good introduction of characters and some very nice foreshadowing. Looking forward to more. :)
 

windar

Teller of Tales
Of course it will. What could go wrong?

Yes, what could go wrong with some hot female students and their female professor going to a country that canes females? They could just do their digging in the ruins and go home just fine, right? We will have to see about that.

Love the start of the story - I don't find it too slow at all. Good introduction of characters and some very nice foreshadowing. Looking forward to more.

I find it much hotter when the bad things happen (assuming of course that anything bad will happen) to real people as opposed to generic victims.

great beginning, the pace is excellent!
good beginning..look forward to the rest.

Thanks for the kind words.

Now let's finish Chapter 1.
 

windar

Teller of Tales
At the airport in Pranda, they were met by Thura, a small, thin man with short black hair, dressed in a blue, short-sleeved shirt, khaki pants and running shoes. “Welcome to Trabbia”, he said, in excellent, slightly-accented English. “I am with the Ministry of Culture. I have been delegated to accompany you to Mongha and make sure you have everything you need during your stay in our country. All the necessary arrangements have been made. Please follow me.” Thura was obviously a person of some importance because, following him, the Americans were waved through passport control and customs with barely a glance. At baggage claim, 2 porters appeared seemingly from nowhere to collect the visitors’ luggage. Thura guided the party out of the terminal into the tropical heat and escorted them to a black SUV parked at the curb. The porters placed their luggage in the back and the women climbed into the rear seat, while Thura got into the front with the driver.

“If you please,” said Thura, “we are expected at Mongha today. We have made provisions for you to spend a few days in Pranda as a sort of break after a few weeks at the archaeological site. We of course want you to appreciate that despite all of the ancient wonders, Trabbia is also a very modern and civilized country.” What they saw of Pranda seemed to support Thura’s assurances, as there were many tall, modern buildings and expressways filled with traffic. They noted that streets were quite spotless and everything appeared very orderly. After passing through the city, they continued on a good modern highway into the dense jungle, turning off, after a couple of hours, onto a well-maintained dirt road. A few minutes later, they arrived at a jungle encampment consisting of about 20 small huts and a larger one that served as a common meal area. Thura escorted the women to a cluster of smaller huts.

Each hut had 2 cots and a small bathroom with a simple shower and western-style toilet. Since Sarah and Jennifer were a couple, the women quickly agreed that they would share one hut, while Priya and Susan shared the other. After the women unpacked and had a brief rest, Thura knocked at the doors of their quarters and told them that dinner was being served. They all went down to the mess hall to meet their fellow archaeologists and sample the delights of Trabbian cuisine. The assembled group included several Trabbian historians and archaeologists, as well as helpers from the local population.

After everyone had dined, Thura stood up, went to the front of the room and addressed the group, “To our honored foreign guests, welcome to Trabbia. We are pleased to have a renowned expert like Professor Gelden in our country, along with her brilliant students. We hope that you will enjoy your stay and learn not only about our glorious past, but also about our dynamic present and our exciting future. I will be happy to answer any questions you might have.”

Sarah screwed up her courage and piped up, “I hope you won’t take this as an insult to your country, but we have read accusations about the mistreatment of prisoners, including caning of offenders.”

Just a hint of displeasure passed over Thura’s face, before he quickly recovered and responded, “Yes, it is true that our justice system imposes sentences of corporal punishment for certain offenses. We are not ashamed of this, but rather are proud of it. Our citizens are not willing to tolerate rampant criminality, but neither can they afford the expense of locking up non-violent criminals as you do in your country. We believe that a short painful punishment provides much more deterrent than a jail term, while allowing the offender to carry on their life with much less disruption to family and career. We believe that the very low rate at which those punished re-offend is supports this position.”

Priya asked, “We know that some other countries cane male offenders, but isn’t Trabbia unique in also caning females?”

“When our government put in the laws, that was much discussed,” Thura continued, “And there were arguments on both sides. Eventually it was decided that fundamental fairness required that males and females be treated equally. The punishment is administered on the posterior, which is similar in construction in both sexes, so there is no reason to discriminate. We find that women are just as capable of taking the punishment as are men and suffer neither more nor less.”

The Americans exchanged looks of horror, but there really wasn’t much they could do, as guests in Trabbia, so they retired. The next morning they rose early and after a good breakfast began their work on the temples and last night’s uncomfortable discussion was forgotten. That is until a few days later when Thura approached their table at breakfast. “Good morning, ladies,” he began.

“Good morning,” they all replied.

“I was thinking about our discussion of the other evening. Our government wants to be sure that you understand our culture and way of life. I have spoken to a colleague of mine who is head of the women’s punishment center for this province and she has agreed that we can watch the caning of 2 offenders which will take place later this morning. I thought that being females, it would be more appropriate for you to witness the punishment of female offenders.”

“This morning?” asked Susan, “But we have so much work to do here.”

“The facility is close by,” Thura replied, “and all the arrangements have been made. We can have you back here in time for lunch and a solid afternoon’s work on the ancient artifacts. I think it will be very useful for you to get a taste of our modern ways as well as of our ancestors’ genius.”

Susan shrugged her shoulders. “I guess a short break from our routine here can’t hurt.”

END OF CHAPTER 1. CHAPTER 2 ON THE WAY
 

windar

Teller of Tales
Chapter 2: Visiting a Trabbian Punishment Center


After they finished eating, the 4 Americans got into the SUV and Thura drove them a short distance through the jungle until they came to a compound surrounded by a high double fence topped with some vicious-looking barbed wire. They pulled up at the gate. The sign, in English and Trabbian said “Department of Justice: Mongha Female Correctional Facility.” A female guard came out and exchanged a few words with Thura. “She says we must turn over any cellphones, tablets, cameras and such, as no photography or recording is permitted Everything will be returned as we leave.” The women all got out of the vehicle, as did Thura. The visitors dug in their pockets, producing their phones, which they deposited in the basket proffered by the guard. That task accomplished, they got back into the SUV. The guard opened the gate and instructed Thura on how to find the Warden’s office. The route proceeded through a complex filled with a number of huts similar to the ones at their camp until they arrived at a larger modern building. Standing in front to greet them was a woman of medium height and build, close in age to Susan, dressed in a police-style uniform with numerous highly polished brass buttons and ribbons.

“Welcome to Mongha Female Punishment Center,” she said in fluent, barely-accented English as they exited the car, “I am Noba, Warden of this facility. I understand that you have questions about the administration of justice in our country. I hope we can make clear to you the fairness and wisdom of our system. Please come inside.”

She led the party into the air-conditioned building and into a small conference room with a table and some chairs. “Be seated, please,” the Warden said. Gesturing towards a pitcher of ice water with some lemon slices floating in it and some glasses she said, “Please have something to drink. The procedure takes place outside and it is quite hot, isn’t it?” The guests all happily helped themselves, as the Warden continued, “Since you are not familiar with our country, I will explain what you are about to witness. The 2 offenders who will be punished today are females aged 20 and 21. They are students at the local university who decided that it would be fun to smoke some marijuana. Unfortunately for them, they set off the smoke alarms and the administration discovered them and called the police. They were charged with possession of drugs, which is a serious offense in Trabbia. They were entitled to a full trial if they wanted one, but, since the evidence against them was very clear, they pled guilty. They were sentenced to receive 8 strokes of the cane and were brought here from court yesterday. Upon arrival, they were strip-searched and given uniforms and spent last night in one of the huts in our camp. The night here allows for any pain medication that they might have taken on the outside to pass from their bodies. Right now, they are being examined by the doctor to ensure that they are fit to receive their punishment. Once he pronounces them fit, they will be taken to the caning area and their court-ordered punishment will be administered. I would be happy to answer any questions you might have.”

For a moment, there was an awkward silence. Although they had felt free to express their outrage at the brutality of Trabbian justice in the confines of their camp, they felt a bit intimidated to do so in front of this commanding woman inside a prison facility. Finally, Priya summoned the courage to ask a question. “Isn’t a caning rather a severe punishment for smoking a joint?”

Warden Noba, thought a moment before replying. “I have been educated in the West. I have a degree from the University of California at Irvine. I understand that sort of behavior is tolerated there, even though it might be illegal. But we have found that tolerating small violations of the law produces a climate where more serious crimes can flourish. I believe that some in the West share this opinion-the ‘broken window’ theory as it is called.”

“But why caning? Why not a fine or community service or even a short prison sentence?” Jennifer asked.

“Fines don’t hit the rich and the poor equally. With students such as these, their parents would probably pay it anyway, so they would not learn anything. In Trabbia, we believe that community service is everyone’s obligation, so we do not consider it a punishment for criminals. As for prison, I think it is quite inappropriate for young non-violent offenders to spend time locked up with violent career criminals. All that does is teach them the wrong ways. Besides, prison is expensive and, while we are making progress, we are still not a rich country. The great advantage of corporal punishment is that the offenders are returned to society after a few days and can get on with their lives.”

Susan, always the professor, wanted some hard data. “What is the rate at which those who receive a caning sentence re-offend?” she asked.

“I’m glad you asked,” Noba responded. “We believe that is the most important factor in any criminal punishment. Does it prevent re-offending? And for caning, the answer is most assuredly that it does. The rate of re-offense in the following 5 years for those who are caned is below 10%.” Noba looked at Jennifer. “The rates for those who get fines or prison or community service are over 50%.”

“I know that some other countries have caning, but only for men. Yet in Thabbia you also cane women. Why is that?” Sarah asked.

“Another excellent question,” responded the Warden. “This was much debated when the laws were passed to institute corporal punishment. Some argued that women were less able to bear the pain. That is simply not so; after all, it is women who give birth, not men. We have several staff members who have also worked at male institutions and they find much individual variation in how people react to pain, but no difference between the 2 sexes. Some argued that it is unseemly for women to be naked in front of men; perhaps, but there are women present sometimes when men are caned. Anyway, embarrassment and shame are a vital component of the punishment. For me, it comes down to a simple question of fairness. If I commit a crime that a man would be caned for, then I should be caned too.”

At that point there was a knock at the door. A guard entered and said a few words to the Warden in Trabbian.

The Warden turned to us and said, “The doctor has cleared the offenders for punishment, so if you would please follow me, we can perhaps see why caning is such an effective deterrent to crime.” She led the way out of the building and through the camp to a covered breezeway running parallel to a whitewashed wall. Noba guided the visitors along the breezeway and through a door in the wall. On the other side was a parade ground about the size and shape of a tennis court, surrounded by high walls on all 4 sides, with a dirt floor. Several guards, both male and female were moving busily through the area. Towards one end, was a most curious apparatus, to which the Warden led the visiting party.

“This is our caning stand,” she explained, pointing at the 4 solid wood posts, about as tall as a person, forming a square about 2 feet on each side. The Warden grasped one of the posts and shook it to show how firmly it was anchored in the ground. She continued, “On the 2 front posts, you will notice, down near ground level, leather straps with buckles firmly attached to the posts. These are used to secure the offender’s ankles to the structure. Up here at waist level is a padded bar, with a padded belt that is attached around their hips to protect their kidneys and hold their torso in place. The offender bends over the bar and reaches their hands over to the bar across the far side which has 2 straps used to secure the offender’s wrists. It is important that the offender be secured very firmly, because the cane causes severe pain and the natural bodily reaction is to try to move to avoid the next stroke, which cannot be permitted.”

The Warden motioned to a very muscular looking man, wearing a black T-shirt and dark-blue sweat pants, who came over to the visitors carrying a stick. The Warden continued, “This is the cane used to administer the strokes. It is made of rattan, which grows in this area and is approximately 4 feet long and about as thick as my index finger, wrapped with cloth at the thicker end where the caner holds it. Prior to use, the bottom third is soaked overnight in water so that it is very supple, almost like a leather whip. That makes it very effective at transferring the power from the caner’s arm to the offender’s flesh.” Priya shuddered at the off-hand way the Warden described the brutal torture that would soon be inflicted on 2 students much like her.

Noba exchanged some words with the caner. He bent the cane and showed how supple it was. “Go ahead; you can hold it.” He passed it to Jennifer, who grasped the cloth covered end. “See for yourself how it bends.” Jennifer bent it until it made a letter C. “Would you like to try swinging it?” Warden Noba asked. Jennifer looked reluctant. “Go ahead, there is a practice target.” She pointed at a pillow tied to one of the uprights at waist height, which had what looked like human buttocks drawn on it in marker. Jennifer walked over to it and took a swing, hitting the target rather softly. Each of the other visitors took a turn, with similar indifferent results.

The Warden took the rattan and handed it back to the muscular man. “Now let’s stand back and see how a professional, highly trained for power and accuracy, performs.” The caner wound up like a tennis pro serving at Wimbledon and smashed the cane dead center into the fake buttocks on the pillow, with a full follow through. The blow sent feathers flying everywhere. The visitors stood, staring in shock at the pillow.

“He doesn’t hit a real person that hard, I hope,” Susan said. “I mean, no one could survive that, could they?”

“Yes, of course, that is exactly how he delivers every stroke,” Warden Noba replied. “If each caner gave strokes as he felt like, then judges would have no idea how many to award for a given crime. It is essential that each stroke be given at full force. As for survival, no one has died yet under the cane, though some might have wished for it.”

“Now if you will please accompany me to the administrative gallery, the first offender will be brought out shortly and you will see how the caning is carried out,” speaking of it as though it was a minor medical procedure, rather than a horrible torture.

TO BE CONTINUED
 

Eulalia

Poet Laureate
Staff member
Only just caught up with this - nice story, feeling the tension building up....
The coldly scientific way the procedure is described and justified is all-too believable, and scary.
 

Dorothy Brown

Brown Sugar
A man who can use a cane properly can hit the girls bum full on to
stripe her bum,but if he does it to give her pain it`s all done by
wrist action . he brings the cane down but then flicks his wrist in a
way to hit her bum with just the cane tip. believe me,that is like being
stung by a wasp, a few of those plus one last one across the top of her legs
and she is a blubbering wreck. it all depends on the girl in a way,but
once she is strapped down over the spanking horse she is totally at
his mercy,some girls have a higher pain threshold than others and
they are the ones who go for a painful thrashing. most girls just
like a gentle over the knee spanking.
 

windar

Teller of Tales
Only just caught up with this - nice story, feeling the tension building up....
The coldly scientific way the procedure is described and justified is all-too believable, and scary.

Thank you very much. I really appreciate that. To me, verisimilitude is an absolute pre-requisite to elicit emotions. Unless I can convince myself it could happen (whether or not it really did), it doesn't move me that much.

some girls have a higher pain threshold than others and
they are the ones who go for a painful thrashing. most girls just
like a gentle over the knee spanking.

These are criminals. What they "like" is irrelevant. In fact, as the Warden explained, the goal is to create acute suffering so they are motivated to reform. A light spanking would only see most of them back for more and that would be a failure of the system.

Now, who wants to see the first offender get her punishment, as ordered by the court?
 

Dorothy Brown

Brown Sugar
Thank you very much. I really appreciate that. To me, verisimilitude is an absolute pre-requisite to elicit emotions. Unless I can convince myself it could happen (whether or not it really did), it doesn't move me that much.



These are criminals. What they "like" is irrelevant. In fact, as the Warden explained, the goal is to create acute suffering so they are motivated to reform. A light spanking would only see most of them back for more and that would be a failure of the system.

Now, who wants to see the first offender get her punishment, as ordered by the court?


ME ME ME

Call Her Dorothy Brown
 

Dorothy Brown

Brown Sugar
Have you behaved yourself? Do you deserve to see these criminals have their buttocks shredded?

As for their names, they are Trabbian criminals and I don't think either of them answer to Dorothy Brown. But be good and I will let you watch.

I Don`t want to watch i
want to be caned for
being a disgrace to
my sex
 

windar

Teller of Tales
I Don`t want to watch i
want to be caned for
being a disgrace to
my sex
I'm sorry, that isn't against the law in Trabbia and they only cane people who break the law. but I really don't think you would like a Trabbian caning anyway. They are brutal.

But, I will post the caning of the first offender and then you can tell me if you have changed your mind. OK?
 

windar

Teller of Tales
The Warden directed the visitors to an area a few meters to the side and behind the frame, shaded with a canopy and equipped with a number of chairs facing the frame. Seated there was a middle-aged man, who stood to greet the guests and was introduced to them by the Warden as Dr. Fong.

As the party was sitting down, the door in the wall opened and a female guard entered the parade ground, followed by a very frightened-looking young woman with a male guard behind her, urging her forward, despite her obvious reluctance to meet her fate. The prisoner was tall, at least for a Trabbian, and thin, with the coffee-colored skin and straight black hair typical of the country. She wore a green T shirt, blue shorts and flip flops. The Trabbian student cast a furtive glance at the sturdy caning stand and the muscular caner as the party came to stand in front of the Warden and her guests. She looked over at the American visitors, but, when her eyes met theirs, she blushed in shame and turned away to stare at the ground.

The Warden picked up one of the 2 folders on the table in front of her and began reading from it. The prisoner answered briefly, her voice hoarse with fear. Thura explained that the Warden was confirming her name and sentence so that there could be no possibility of a mistake. A female guard came over with a basket like one would use for laundry and the Warden called out something. “She is ordering her to strip for her punishment, which is always administered in the nude,” Thura explained. The young woman looked quite mortified, as one might imagine, by the prospect of being naked in front of a mixed party including foreign guests. The Warden repeated the order, this time louder and the prisoner began by kicking off her sandals and placing them in the basket. Then, she pulled her T shirt over her head, which, since the uniform lacked a bra, exposed her pert breasts, with dark areolae and nipples standing up with fear and shame. Casting her eyes down to avoid the gaze of the onlookers, the young prisoner pulled her shorts down to her feet and stepped out of them, placing them carefully in the basket. She paused for a moment, and then, under the stern glare of the Warden and guards, pulled down her underpants and placed them in the basket with the rest of her uniform. Now she stood before the entire group, naked as the day she was born.

Priya could only imagine the mortification of the young woman, thinking how she herself would feel exposed before a group of fully dressed visitors, awaiting a vicious beating. Clearly, the Trabbian student did feel ashamed, as she stared at the ground and tried to cover her breasts and genitals with her hands. The Warden addressed her in a stern tone of voice. Thura told the Americans that the Warden had ordered the offender to put her arms by her side. With a look of obvious reluctance, the young woman complied. The Warden turned to the guests and explained, “Shame and humiliation are just as important a part of the punishment as the pain, so it is important that the offenders be fully exposed as much as possible.” Encouraged by the warden, the guests allowed themselves to take in the naked young woman’s flesh and luscious brown skin. Although Priya knew in her mind that this was an official proceeding, and not at all intended to be erotic, she couldn’t help noticing a tingling in her loins at the site of the Trabbian girl forced to exhibit her body. Nor, Priya noted, was she alone in finding the site of the naked, vulnerable girl surrounded by fully dressed guards arousing. She noticed Jen and Sarah were both squirming in their seats, while Susan’s, face was distinctly flushed. Even more obviously, Priya could see a distinct bulge in Thura’s pants.

Finally, after the guests had had a good look, the Warden motioned to the guards, each of whom took an arm, and marched the young student over to the apparatus, giving the guests view of her still lovely, but soon to be bruised and bleeding posterior as her bare feet padded towards the place of her suffering. When they reached the frame, the guards, practiced from having processed numerous offenders, knelt down and pushed the girl’s feet apart until each was against the upright on the side facing the guests. They wrapped the straps around each ankle and cinched them tight. Once the prisoner’s feet were secured, the male guard put one hand on her upper back and one on her buttocks and pushed her hips against the padded crossbar while pushing her upper body down so that she was bent at a 90⁰ angle, her hands gripping the crossbar on the far side for support, her chin resting on the crossbar between her hands. The female guard went to the front of the apparatus and cinched the straps on the crossbar firmly around each of the girl’s wrists. The final preparatory step was to place the padded belt attached at both ends to the rear crossbar around her waist and draw it tight. The Trabbian girl was now rendered quite immobile, a fact which would soon become important in view of the involuntary muscular struggles the searing pain of the lashes would undoubtedly promote.

The warden stood up. “Let’s go have a closer look,” she suggested to her guests, who likewise, stood, Thura pausing to press his erection against his belly to disguise his arousal. Noba escorted the visitors to stand a few feet behind the apparatus and a bit to the right.

As they approached the bound Trabbian student, Priya found herself blushing. First, because the position the girl was in, with her hips bent at a 90° angle and her legs spread, left the young lady’s vagina wide-open to view by the guards, the warden and the visitors. Not only that, but the rosette of the girl’s anus inside her spread buttocks was also clearly visible, opening and closing in her distress. Priya could only imagine the embarrassment that the poor girl, a student around her own age, must be feeling at having her most private parts displayed to foreign strangers. All because she and her friend had wanted to relax a bit with a joint, something the American students all had done themselves.

But, the other reason that Priya was blushing, was that she found the sight of the girl’s most private places spread open for the inspection of all and sundry to be distinctly arousing. Moreover, from the bulge in Thura’s crotch and the uncomfortable way that Jennifer and Sarah shifted from foot to foot, Priya was fairly certain she was not alone in that. Susan broke the tension by remarking, “That position doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

“Indeed it does not,” Warden Noba replied. “However, while the embarrassment is certainly desirable, that is not the main reason we use this position. Rather, it is because it presents the buttocks as a prominent target for the cane and, since the lower back is out of the way, reduces the possibility of hitting the kidneys, which could cause serious damage. The goal is to reform the offender, not burden society with their lifelong care.”

As the warden explained the kindness of the Trabbian penal system to her guests, a female guard sat down on a chair in front of the offender and grasped the young student’s head holding it firmly, facing forward. The caner took his position behind and a bit to the left of the poor offender’s buttocks, tapping her butt several times with the cane to adjust his position. He stood at attention, to the left of the offender, the fearsome cane held at chest height, the cloth handle in his right hand, while his left hand grasped it near the end that would skin the poor victim’s buttocks. “Well, it appears all is ready, so let’s step a bit to the side, so that we don’t get in the way of these fine professionals,” the Warden instructed, leading the official party to a spot behind and a bit to the right of the caning stand.

Once her guests were properly positioned, the Warden signaled to a male guard standing to the side. He called out something loudly. “He announced 8 strokes and called for the first one,” said Thura. A second later, the caner drew the cane behind him, swung his weight back, then pivoted forward, bringing the cane whooshing down at full force on the poor girl’s ass with a loud “Thwack!” following through like a tennis champion hitting a forehand volley. As the cane hit, the girl’s butt flesh jiggled like jelly on a plate that someone had jarred. A white stripe sprung up immediately, clearly visible against the brown skin of the Trabbian student.

“Oh my god,” Sarah said, shocked at the force. “I can’t believe how hard he hit her. But it doesn’t seem she is reacting to it.” For, indeed, it seemed for a few seconds that there was no discernible response from the victim. But Sarah had spoken too soon. As the white stripe on the offender’s butt began to turn a deep crimson with the return of blood to the damaged tissue, it became clear that the pain began to hit home. The Trabbian student’s legs began pulling with full force on the straps holding them to the frame, her toes digging into the dirt. Her hips twisted within the limited range of freedom allowed by the waist strap in a futile attempt to both deal with the shocking pain and escape the next blow that was to come.

“Wow!” Susan exclaimed, watching the girl’s frantic gyrations. “I can’t even imagine how much pain she must be in.”

“No doubt she is greatly regretting her poor choices,” the Warden assured the Americans.

The offender kept up her valiant struggles for 15 or 20 seconds, her muscle spasms slowly diminishing, whether from the agony ebbing or simply from exhaustion, Priya could only guess.

“In case you are wondering at the delay, we always wait 30 seconds between strokes,” explained the Warden. “That way, the offenders feel the full effect.” Noting the shocked looks on the faces of her guests, she continued, “It may seem cruel to maximize the pain, but that is the best way to ensure that these criminals don’t reoffend and have to go through this again.”

Once the requisite time had passed, the guard called out “Two!” and the second stroke was delivered with the same implacable strength, producing another loud “Thwack!” and a second stripe, a couple of inches below the first, and the same desperate reaction from the poor offender, who was only 1/4 of the way through her ordeal.

The third brutal stroke landed in the undamaged space between the first two. This drew a series of moans from the Trabbian girl, along with more fruitless struggles.

Soon enough the fourth stroke was called for and delivered. It fell right on top of where a previous stroke had landed, drawing an even louder series of moans from the victim. Susan commented that the offender’s buttocks were now quivering, even well after the cane stroke. “Yes,” Warden Noba explained, “It’s a common reaction to the pain. Let’s hope she doesn’t lose control of her bladder or bowels.” Priya felt more tingling in her groin as she observed the naked Trabbian girl’s quivering flesh. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, rubbing her legs together as the feelings ran through her groin. She noticed that her classmates seemed to be acting similarly. She also saw a bulge in Thura’s trousers and noticed that he had his hand in his pocket, though he quickly removed it when he noticed her looking at it.

After the fifth stroke, the outer layer of skin in the center of the offender’s buttocks was split in several places and the entire area looked deep red and inflamed. The pain-wracked young woman began shouting some words, which the visitors, not being fluent in Trabbian, couldn’t understand. “She is begging them to stop and promising that she will never do it again,” the helpful Thura translated.

“Since she is sufficiently punished, does that mean they will stop?” asked Priya.

“Certainly, not,” replied the Warden. “Offenders often make such appeals during their punishment. However, under our laws, the full measure of punishment ordered by the courts must be delivered and I cannot reduce it even if I wanted to.”

The guard in front called, “Stroke 6”and the caner delivered it on top of already wounded flesh, causing blood to begin leaking from a particularly abraded area on the right cheek and eliciting more futile pleas from the suffering girl. “Oh my, she’s bleeding,” Jennifer remarked. “Is that normal?”

“Oh, quite normal for an 8 stroke caning” replied the Warden. “Each stroke strips off a layer of skin and once you get beyond 3 or 4, it’s quite likely that you will hit a spot a second time, which usually produces some bleeding.”

“Aren’t you worried about infection?” asked Priya, ever the pre-Med student.

“Certainly,” replied the Warden, “We use a fresh rattan for each offender and thoroughly disinfect the wounds.”

The seventh stroke was called out and the caner struck. The victim tried again to plead and bargain for mercy, but none was forthcoming, despite the fact that two additional spots were now leaking blood as a result of the further shredding of the young woman’s skin.

After the allotted 30 seconds, the eighth and final stroke was announced and given, this time eliciting a series of wordless howls. The guard at the front announced something which Thura told the Americans meant, “Punishment completed.” The caner strode off to a table at the side of the parade ground and refreshed himself with a long drink of water. The Trabbian student lay slumped on the frame, her plump globes scored with deep marks and welts over much of their surface, a few small trickles running down her buttocks onto her thighs from the most damaged spots.

“Aren’t they going to release her?” Susan asked.

“First, they must disinfect her wounds,” Noba replied.

No sooner had the Warden spoken, then a guard came over carrying a bucket, which he emptied onto the posterior of the young offender. At first there was no reaction, but after a few seconds the girl began to frantically wriggle her buttocks, while a piteous series of howls came from her mouth. “That was a nice dose to brine to kill any germs,” the Warden continued with a wicked leer.

After a minute or so, the girl tired herself out and the struggles stopped. The guards came over and undid the restraints. Even once she was freed, her exhaustion and loss of will kept her from standing up, so the guards each grasped an arm and pulled her up off the frame. It was quite obvious that the poor young woman was too unsteady on her on feet after her ordeal to walk unaided, so the guards helped her limp off the parade ground. The visitors had their eyes fixed on the girl’s brutalized ass as she receded.

“Where are they taking her?” asked Susan.

“To the camp hospital for treatment,” replied the Warden. “She will lie down, on her front of course,” she continued with a smile, “and will have the wounds further disinfected. In a couple of hours, her ass will be quite swollen and she will have to stay here for a few days until the swelling goes down and the cuts scab over. Then, once she is able to wear loose clothing, she will be released. Of course, any contact with her butt will continue to be painful for some time and sitting or lying on the back will be uncomfortable for several weeks. But eventually she will heal.”

Sarah asked, “Will she have scars?”

The Warden answered, “After 3 or 4 strokes, probably not, but after 8, it is likely that there will be some permanent marks that would be visible in bright light. Certainly after a dozen or more, there would be quite obvious scarring. Let’s just say that most of these reformed criminals will probably prefer to have sex in the dark. Now, we really shouldn’t keep her friend waiting any longer.” With that the warden guided the party back to the administrative area, where she picked up the second folder and called for the second offender.
 
Top Bottom