Ciara & Lucy-2
Officer Lucy Starr had been a Correctional Officer with the Ministry of Justice since she graduated with first class honours from her Masters in Judicial Correction. She was now in her second year of a five year fast track programme to the senior level rank at the Ministry.
She had been placed at this short stay prison facility once she had completed the Level 1 Corporal Punishment module at the end of year one. This facility was aimed at medium level offenders who had passed the seriousness level to be sent to prison, but instead were sent here for short sharp shock treatment in the form of enhanced corporal punishment.
Lucy had been doing her Masters when the Criminal and Civil Justice Act was amended to bring corporal punishment into the statute book, so that was by no means the reason she joined the profession, but it certainly piqued her interest. She was now the youngest female officer in the service who had had authority to deliver corporal punishment, if only at the basic level of the cane and whip. He career was everything to her and she was focussed on her goal totally. She was currently studying for her level 2, which would allow her to undertake more advanced punishments such as Punishment Restraints for example, the Discipline Bra or Testes Clamp. The level 3 would allow her to practice the most advanced punishments, such as electro punishment and some of the more infamous punishments at the extreme end of the severity scale.
She studied hard, not leaving a lot of time for a social life, preferring to study for her next set of exams, even though they were still six months away. She had managed to get 98% in the practical assessment for caning, which she was proud of, but she was mildly irritated at dropping the 2%. Her only hobby was kick boxing which kept her fit and gave her that little bit more confidence when dealing with prisoners. None here should be violent in theory, but the psychology element of her undergraduate degree assured her that people in 'fight or flight' mode could be wholly unpredictable.
Offenders can find themselves being strapped to the punishment frame, essentially via three routes; court ordered in addition to a custodial sentence so that the punishment is delivered in prison, court ordered as a stand alone punishment, and for the most minor offences, sentences issued by post, for example for speeding. In the latter two cases, it is most common for offenders to need to make an appointment and attend a punishment centre. Although her current placement was technically listed as a prison because of the custodial element, they also dealt with the day cases.
It had been a hard week for Lucy, the run of shifts hadn't been kind, it was how the rota sometimes fell. She'd not had chance to get to the gym more than once and she was very much in need of a run. She was going to go straight from work today, once she'd got the paperwork cleared up from today's punishments. Each punishment attracted a fair amount of record keeping and documentation. A lot of other of the approved Punishment Officers had their assistants do much of the paperwork, but Lucy preferred to have the final check on everything, so did it all herself. That unfortunately necessitated the longer hours like this evening.
She was completing her final Punishment Report of the day, a 38 year old male who'd received 21 stokes of the number 2 cane to buttocks. He had cried loudly and fought against the restraint straps throughout. At the end though, when he was released, his penis was erect. Not uncommon, but still necessary to make a record in the file.
Her email pinged. It was from her boss and she was surprised to get an email at this time. 'Lucy, I see you're still in work. Please come and see me before you leave.'
Her stomach flipped a little. This wasn't normal and the tone was very clipped, not her usual friendly self. Lucy looked at the words on the screen, trying to sense the meaning for a few moments, but gave up and simply replied 'Hi Amanda. Sure, I'm just finishing up. Lucy.'
She completed her report on the final punishment, downloaded the stills of the results on his buttocks and his erect penis, taken from the CCTV camera to the file, and shut down her machine. Everything in this place was recorded permanently on ultra high definition cameras. Each punishment frame was well covered so that the process and result of the punishments could be well recorded. She gathered her things and took the lift up to her boss's office.
Lucy knocked on the office door.
"Come in," came the reply from inside.
Lucy opened the door and stepped into the office, her boss was sat at the desk, her uniform jacket was on the stand and she had clearly been working at her computer.
The Assistant Director of Corrections was Amanda Richards, a career focussed woman who Lucy liked to look up to and use as a role model. She was about forty or so, a little curvy but attractive, with brown shoulder length hair, that was held up above her collar as per uniform regulations. She had a reputation for being severe in her approach, but as her immediate supervisor on the development programme, Lucy had found her supportive, although she was in no doubt who was in charge and Amanda had no trouble holding Lucy to account.
"Good evening, Amanda. You wanted to see me?" Lucy said, trying to hide the inexplicable nervousness she felt at the unorthodox summons to the office.
"Hello Lucy. Take a seat," the Assistant Director said, indicating the chair in front of the desk. She watched as Lucy got herself settled into the uncomfortable visitor's chair.
"Look Lucy, I'm going to get straight to the point, this isn't going to be a pleasant conversation."
Lucy's stomach sank. She had known something was going on. It was so irregular to be called here like this.
Amanda continued before the young officer could respond. "I have received a complaint in relation to a custodial you executed on Wednesday morning," she paused to see the reaction. Lucy cast her mind back to Wednesday and remembered she had been executing the canings on the custody prisoners. The session in front of the audience. Amanda continued, "The complaint suggests you were excessive in your delivery of the punishment."
Lucy swallowed. "Well, I guess it wouldn't be the first time someone thinks they have been caned too hard," she ventured. She could hear the hopeful, tentative tone in her own voice and felt her face colour. She didn't know what the complaint was, but she knew it couldn't be that. A complaint like that wouldn't even make it past the receptionist.
"No Lucy, the complainant is your assistant." There was a silence in the room that was deafening. Lucy frantically searched her memory back to Wednesday. Three days ago. She'd executed a good number of punishments since then. She was doing canings Wednesday morning, whippings in the afternoon, the same on Thursday and all day today had been canings. She thought hard and remembered that her assistant had been Eleanor Campbell.
"But, I don't understa . .," her voice broke off as she realised what the complaint must be about.
Her boss started speaking again, breaking her line of thought, "On the morning session, the first custodial of the day was a Ciara Murphy, a 42 year old female from Cell 247 that received 18 strokes. Do you recollect that punishment?"
Lucy's mind was racing. She knew that she had overstepped the mark. The woman, more than ten years her senior, was perhaps the most controlled she'd ever caned. Her self control to manage her reactions to the strokes had started off as piquing Lucy's interest, because they were getting less as the punishment went on, not greater, which is what normally happens. Lucy had been determined to get a reaction from the woman.
She decided to be upfront -- honesty was going to be the best policy here. It would all be on CCTV anyway.
"I do, yes." She couldn't bring herself to add more. Her career would be over before it started. What had she done? How stupid!
"Can you explain why you felt it necessary to not only deviate from standard protocol but also breach the regulations themselves?" Her tone was not angry. Lucy's hands were on her lap and she was fidgeting. She stopped herself, feeling every bit the naughty schoolgirl in front of her head mistress.
"I was giving the punishment as normal. I noticed the prisoner was controlling get reactions more and more as I went on and that interested me, professionally. I mean I haven't seen that before. So, I adjusted the tempo to try to catch her off guard to see if that would affect her reactions."
"Well, Lucy. I can't describe how disappointed I am. Why would you threaten your career like this? I just don't understand. Not only was your delivery of the punishment irregular, but sitting here now, you are not being entirely frank with me either, are you?"
"Amanda.., I really am. I am being honest as to what I was thinking."
"Upon receiving this complaint, I naturally reviewed the file. If you are so adamant that all you did was alter the tempo, can you explain why Murphy's buttocks looked like this when you were finished?" the Director asked, as she clicked on the file photo that showed the prisoners buttocks at the end of the punishment. Not only was it on Amanda's computer screen, but a large TV on the wall.
There were a good number of deep red, angry looking welts showing on what was clearly the plump bottom of a woman. The picture was framed such that the black strap at her waist was clearly visible above her buttocks, pushing into the flesh of the woman's lower back. The image had been taken while she was still restrained to the punishment frame. The severity of the marks weren't the problem, Lucy knew that. The whole point of the punishment is to leave the prisoner in pain and discomfort and for their buttocks to show exactly such marks.
The realisation dawned on Lucy a second later. There were two stripes that went across the others diagonally across the buttocks, plain as day. She knew what she'd done. She'd known it was against procedure manual. But at that time, she'd been determined to get a final scream out of the older woman and she did so by doubling up as they called it in the profession, where you placed one stroke over another, but to do it across a series of others like this, was considered very bad form indeed.
Amanda clicked her mouse and the screen redrew to a new image of the same bottom, but now showing dark blue bruises where the stripes had been on the previous image. "This was taken this afternoon. You will see the normal bruising along the horizontal strokes which is to be expected, but here, here and here," her boss said, pointing at the screen, you will see grade B contusions where the top layer of skin has been broken where you have crossed your cane strokes."
Lucy knew she was in trouble. She should never have done that the other day, but she certainly shouldn't have limited the damage by trying to omit part of the story.
"Yes I see that. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," she said to her boss. It sounded so pathetic and weak as soon as it came out of her mouth. She wished immediately that she could take it back. She could remember the regulation by heart 'Cane strokes are to be placed parallel to each other and where not limited by virtue of number of strokes or the anatomy of the prisoner, should not overlap. This is to protect the integrity of the skin as much as is practicable.'
Her boss just looked at her for a moment. Lucy returned the gaze initially, but didn't manage to hold it. She cast her eyes down to her lap.
"There's no point apologising to me, Lucy. You have let yourself down, far more than me. You are such a promising officer, you could be sitting in my seat in a couple of years, except if I formally charge you with this, it will be stapled to every job application you make. Front and centre."
Lucy felt a glimmer of hope. Did she just say 'if'? "Yes Amanda. You are right, of course. I have been stupid," she looked up again to find her boss staring back at her. "I knew as soon as I did the two strokes in quick succession that I'd gone over the line and I should have sorted myself out there and then. I am sorry for this."
Lucy knew that the Corporal Punishment Regulations had provision to deal with officers and officials who abused their position in any way. The whole range of corporal punishments would be available to her boss as sentencing options after a Conduct Panel had sat and found her guilty of misconduct.
"I am well within my rights to suspend you and put you on a formal charge," Amanda said, leaving that statement hanging in the air.
"I understand," Lucy mumbled, fighting to hold back the tears. The thought of the some of the more painful punishments at the top end of the scale and gulped.
"However, I think that would be a waste of a very promising career for someone who is, usually at least, professional and a credit to the service," the Assistant Director continued. "I really don't want to do that."
Lucy looked up at her boss. Hope rushed into her. A glimpse of salvaging her fast track career was there.
"That said, I am not going to allow one of my officers to behave in such a manner. You need to remember this experience to guide you in the future." Lucy had no idea what was coming, she had been on an emotional rollercoaster since her email pinged at her desk.
Her senior officer continued, "I am prepared to issue you a regulation 86 notice, but if I am going to do that, I have some conditions of my own," she said as she looked at Lucy.
Lucy was on the edge of crying now. A regulation 86 notice was almost like a fixed penalty notice available to civilians. It essentially said, you've committed a relatively minor offence, if you pay a fine, we won't prosecute you formally. However, here, officers don't get to pay a fine, they have to submit to a punishment. 16 lashes with the whip or 8 strokes of the cane, if memory served Lucy.
When Lucy had found out she had been accepted into the level 1 Corporal Punishment module, she had decided she needed some understanding of what her prisoners would be feeling. She had never told a living sole this, but she had gone to a professional dominatrix for a day. She had been whipped and caned by the woman whilst tied down on a bed. Not exactly the same, but she knew it hurt. She'd always suspected though, that she got a much easier ride at the hands of the woman than the prisoners here got. With no frame of reference, it was hard to tell, but either she was very brave, had a high tolerance for pain, or her dominatrix had done her no favours by going easy. She was now about to find out. It scared her and thrilled her a little bit. The humiliation of being whipped or caned in her workplace was going to be something else though. That was not going to be good. Not good at all.
"I would require you to apologise to Murphy for your error of judgement," Amanda paused as that sunk in, and she will witness your punishment, in a private session after hours, here tomorrow night."
"Do you accept these conditions to the 86, or should I submit a formal charge?"
"Will I be caned or whipped?" Lucy asked.
"Does it matter?" her boss replied in question. She paused again and sighed before continuing, "I think it seems appropriate that you be caned, don't you?"
"Yes," replied Lucy.
"Yes, what? Yes you think you should be caned or yes you agree to my terms?" asked Amanda.
"Yes, I agree to your terms. Please issue the regulation 86 notice." Lucy felt that to show apparent willingness to learn and grow from this experience, could only help her.
"Very well then," Amanda said as she reached into that desk drawer, retrieving a large envelope. She slid the paperwork out. "I have written you up as committing a procedural irregularity. I think nice and vague is better in this circumstance. Technically speaking, you have 7 days to formally reply, but if you're going to meet my terms, I'm going to need it sooner than that. Now, really." She placed the paperwork onto the desk and placed a pen in front of Lucy.
Before she changed her mind, she picked up the pen and signed.
"You've made the right decision. I'll see you tomorrow. Report to punishment room 4 at 1830. 8 strokes of the cane. You'll be fine."
"Thank you, Amanda. See you tomorrow." Lucy got up, kicking herself mentally for thanking her boss for sentencing her to a caning. How ridiculous. She picked up her copy of the paperwork and left the office.
The benefit of a regulation 86 notice, was that once the punishment had been delivered, the record only stays on her file for 6 months for the first offence. This would take her to her next set of exams, which meant by the time she was going to apply for anything else, it would no longer be on her record. She had a sudden rush of gratitude for Amanda, realising what she had done for her.
She decided to abandon her run and go straight home instead.
The following day went as a blur to her. She'd hardly slept thinking about how stupid she'd been, but also about the impending punishment. Not so much the pain, although it was obviously going to hurt. Her main concern was the humiliation of being strapped down naked and caned by one of her colleagues in front of a prisoner, and probably her boss. Hardly consistent with the uber-professional Corrections Officer she was aiming to be.
She finished up her final punishment of the day -- a girl of 18 who had been sentenced to 15 whip lashes -- and got the paperwork done. She looked at the clock on the other side of the officer's admin hub. She still had 45 minutes to go. One of her colleagues was sat on the desk opposite doing his work. Everyone had been completely normal with her today. She had assumed everyone would know what was going to happen, but if they did, no one had given a sign. She sat at her desk for a bit longer, not really doing anything, watching the clock crawl around.
Eventually she got up and went to have a long walk around the centre to Punishment Room 4. The Punishment Rooms were separate from the accommodation part of the facility where the prisoners were locked in cells overnight, so the area was quiet now.
She arrived outside the door. She straightened her white, starched uniform shirt ensuring it was tucked in neatly to her dark blue trousers and smoothed over her breasts and stomach. She reached up to make sure that her red hair was tied back and above the collar as per regulations and looked down to her boots to ensure they were suitably shined. She realised she should have spent some of the time she wasted upstairs addressing her makeup, but it was too late now. She had checked-in her utility belt in at the end of her shift, so no baton or cuffs for her. She already felt only partly dressed without it, but realised it was about to get worse.
She hesitated, was she supposed to knock? What was the protocol for this situation. She opted for formality and gave a sharp knock on the door.
"Come," came the familiar voice of the Assistant Director.
She took a deep breath and pushed through the door. Inside the room were the usual disciplinary accompaniments, by far the most imposing was the punishment frame in the shape of an 'A'. Her eyes crossed that to the lower bench used for canings. That seemed all the more menacing today.
In the room already were her boss, the Assistant Director, the prisoner Murphy, sitting naked and in standard transport chains and a man she hadn't met before.
The prisoner was showing the tell tale signs of her short but intense stay at the prison. She had red marks and bruises over most of her body. Her breasts had the giveaway indents in her flesh that the discipline bra produced. In Lucy's expert opinion, she would estimate that the hapless prisoner's breasts had been painfully restrained in the metal torture device for most of the afternoon. There were bruises on her belly that indicated she had been caned -- that wasn't court ordered, Lucy knew from reading the file, so she must have broken rules. She was clean as the regulations required, but she looked tired and worn down -- a regime of a lack of sleep and the high stress environment. Her hands were cuffed to the chain cinched tightly around the bulging flesh of her stomach with the crotch chain disappearing between her legs. If Lucy's calculations were correct, Murphy was due to be released the following day.
The man and the Assistant Director had been in discussion on the other side of the frame from Murphy who was sitting in the front row of the spectators seats. He was tall with a muscular build and dark hair. He was probably late 40's and the insignia on his uniform indicated his seniority in the service. He looked at her, openly appraising her as she stood awkwardly at the door.
"Miss Starr, I presume," he said. Clearly a statement rather than a question.
"Yes Sir," she said in a professional, clipped reply that was customary to formal occasions within the Ministry of Justice.
Somehow, despite the fact this was not his prison and he was not based here, he seemed to be in charge. The insignia of rank made him no more senior than Amanda, but his presence in the Punishment Room was something else entirely.
"Your predicament has been explained to me and the Assistant Director has asked me to deal with you in a manner that will bring this whole sorry mess to a conclusion," he said.
Her mind was whirring. Lucy had assumed that she would be punished by Amanda and while Lucy didn't for a second imagine that she would go easy on her, she had not thought about the possibility of someone else being present. This brought a whole new dynamic to the situation that she had not been expecting and had not readied herself for. She had been by no means confident, but now she felt overwhelmed. She could feel the sweat forming on the palms of her hands and her mouth had become dry.
"In a moment, I am going to ask you to remove your clothes," he said so matter of factly, that it seemed an absolutely reasonable thing for him to say. He continued, "from that moment, any failure to follow an instruction or any resistance of any kind will result in a further punitive sanction. I feel it only fair that I should inform you at this stage, that breast punishment is a particular favourite of mine. Do you understand?"
This wasn't right! A regulation 86 disciplinary matter did not allow for extra punishment. You either complied or you were summoned on a formal charge. It certainly didn't allow for level 3 penalty such as breast punishment. Lucy looked wildly at Amanda who looked back at her coolly and impassively, waiting for her confirmation. Lucy looked across at the prisoner, who now had a very different look on her face, her interest piqued, and finally back at the male officer. "Yes, sir," she replied again.
"I believe Assistant Director Richards wishes to address you, before you strip your uniform off," he said. He put particular emphasis on the second part of that sentence which gave Lucy a sense of dread about being naked in front of this man.
"So, Officer Starr," Amanda had taken over. "We talked about my conditions and you said that you were agreeable. Please be assured that I have the best of intentions towards you, although for the next hour, I suspect it won't feel that way."
Lucy looked at her boss, searching for any hint of what the hell was going on. There was none. "Yes, ma'am," she replied, opting for formality. That seemed to satisfy her boss, who turned towards the prisoner next.
"Prisoner Murphy," she barked, waiting for the woman to get to her feet as required by regulations. The woman got up with some difficulty with her hands cuffed. When she stood, the room had an even greater view of the story of punishment and abuse on her body from the attention of the judicial system. "You may remember officer Starr from the caning you received to your buttocks. What you probably didn't realise is during your punishment, there was a small irregularity. I have to impress upon you that no laws were broken and as a result, you have no right of reparation. Do you understand so far?"
"Yes Miss," the prisoner replied.
"Officer Starr took a liberty with the rules in an unprofessional attempt to get a reaction from you, for which she will apologise in a moment before you witness her being caned informally. She is an excellent up and coming officer who has made a small mistake.
"The spectacle of an officer being caned in the presence of a prisoner is unheard of. I would ask for your discretion in this matter. No one would believe you in any event and if you ever suffer the misfortune of being the subject of punishment in my facility again having talked of this night, you will have more than a misplaced cane stroke to worry about. Do I make my myself clear?"
"Yes miss," the woman replied.
"You may sit back down," she commanded the prisoner, turning back to the male officer and giving the nod.
"Starr, on my command you will remove your boots and socks and then stand on the presentation square," he said, pointing at the painted square on the floor that Lucy had only ever seen a prisoner stand on. "Go!" he barked.
She found herself taking the couple of steps forward necessary to get to the square automatically. She was quite surprised at herself, but understood that she had no real choice, unless she wanted a formal charge stapled to every job application she ever filed in the service.
She bent down and undid the boots removing them and her regulation socks. The floor was cold against her warm skin. She stood rigidly, waiting for the next, inevitable command.
"Uniform shirt next, Starr," came the next instruction from the man.
She had guessed as much. It would have been what she would have done in his position. There's much more likely to be greater embarrassment for the prisoner removing the shirt first. There's a lot more under there for women to be insecure about. She wasn't going to fall for this though. She knew it was straight out of humiliation 101. She was going to ultimately end up completely naked for the caning, so it really made very little difference in what order it happened. She had made peace with that last night. Or so she thought.
She found her hands were slowing down as she got to the bottom of the buttons on the stiffly starched white shirt. She forced herself onwards. She didn't want to give him the pleasure of allowing him to hurry her. She slipped the shirt off her shoulders and folded it, placing it on the floor next to her boots.
She stood back up straight with her hands by her sides, looking at him and letting him take in the view. She was determined to appear confident even though that was the last thing she was feeling.
Her skin was pale with a sprinkling of freckles across her shoulders and upper chest to go with her natural red hair. Her chest was of medium size, she'd always been happy with her breast size, but they were dwarfed by those of the older, naked prisoner. Her breasts were held in a plain brassiere with a very basic pattern. It was a light blue colour and fully covered her breasts. Her chest was rising and falling with her breathing that she was managing to keep steady at least for now. Her stomach was flat and toned without being muscular, her uniform trousers covered her stomach up to her navel.
"Bra next, officer Starr," he said.
She could have bet he was going to say that. It was again, basic psychology. Making her bare her chest in front of her clothed colleagues would be expected to heighten her embarrassment. Not to mention, the added benefit he would get from her bending over to take her trousers off which would cause her breasts to hang away from her body.
She reached behind her back, unclipped the bra and pulled it forwards off her chest in a rapid, smooth movement. She would never admit this to anyone, but she had practiced that the previous night infront of the mirror. She had wanted to make sure she could do it with as much dignity as possible.
She dropped the bra on top of her shirt and looked back at the uniformed man with as much confidence as she could muster. Her naked breasts stood proudly on her chest as she determinedly kept her hands down by her sides despite the powerful urge to use her hands to cover herself. Her medium breasts had little nipples and tight little areolas. They were already beginning to harden which Lucy thought odd, as it wasn't cold in the room.
https://xhamster.com/posts/10563164
She had been placed at this short stay prison facility once she had completed the Level 1 Corporal Punishment module at the end of year one. This facility was aimed at medium level offenders who had passed the seriousness level to be sent to prison, but instead were sent here for short sharp shock treatment in the form of enhanced corporal punishment.
Lucy had been doing her Masters when the Criminal and Civil Justice Act was amended to bring corporal punishment into the statute book, so that was by no means the reason she joined the profession, but it certainly piqued her interest. She was now the youngest female officer in the service who had had authority to deliver corporal punishment, if only at the basic level of the cane and whip. He career was everything to her and she was focussed on her goal totally. She was currently studying for her level 2, which would allow her to undertake more advanced punishments such as Punishment Restraints for example, the Discipline Bra or Testes Clamp. The level 3 would allow her to practice the most advanced punishments, such as electro punishment and some of the more infamous punishments at the extreme end of the severity scale.
She studied hard, not leaving a lot of time for a social life, preferring to study for her next set of exams, even though they were still six months away. She had managed to get 98% in the practical assessment for caning, which she was proud of, but she was mildly irritated at dropping the 2%. Her only hobby was kick boxing which kept her fit and gave her that little bit more confidence when dealing with prisoners. None here should be violent in theory, but the psychology element of her undergraduate degree assured her that people in 'fight or flight' mode could be wholly unpredictable.
Offenders can find themselves being strapped to the punishment frame, essentially via three routes; court ordered in addition to a custodial sentence so that the punishment is delivered in prison, court ordered as a stand alone punishment, and for the most minor offences, sentences issued by post, for example for speeding. In the latter two cases, it is most common for offenders to need to make an appointment and attend a punishment centre. Although her current placement was technically listed as a prison because of the custodial element, they also dealt with the day cases.
It had been a hard week for Lucy, the run of shifts hadn't been kind, it was how the rota sometimes fell. She'd not had chance to get to the gym more than once and she was very much in need of a run. She was going to go straight from work today, once she'd got the paperwork cleared up from today's punishments. Each punishment attracted a fair amount of record keeping and documentation. A lot of other of the approved Punishment Officers had their assistants do much of the paperwork, but Lucy preferred to have the final check on everything, so did it all herself. That unfortunately necessitated the longer hours like this evening.
She was completing her final Punishment Report of the day, a 38 year old male who'd received 21 stokes of the number 2 cane to buttocks. He had cried loudly and fought against the restraint straps throughout. At the end though, when he was released, his penis was erect. Not uncommon, but still necessary to make a record in the file.
Her email pinged. It was from her boss and she was surprised to get an email at this time. 'Lucy, I see you're still in work. Please come and see me before you leave.'
Her stomach flipped a little. This wasn't normal and the tone was very clipped, not her usual friendly self. Lucy looked at the words on the screen, trying to sense the meaning for a few moments, but gave up and simply replied 'Hi Amanda. Sure, I'm just finishing up. Lucy.'
She completed her report on the final punishment, downloaded the stills of the results on his buttocks and his erect penis, taken from the CCTV camera to the file, and shut down her machine. Everything in this place was recorded permanently on ultra high definition cameras. Each punishment frame was well covered so that the process and result of the punishments could be well recorded. She gathered her things and took the lift up to her boss's office.
Lucy knocked on the office door.
"Come in," came the reply from inside.
Lucy opened the door and stepped into the office, her boss was sat at the desk, her uniform jacket was on the stand and she had clearly been working at her computer.
The Assistant Director of Corrections was Amanda Richards, a career focussed woman who Lucy liked to look up to and use as a role model. She was about forty or so, a little curvy but attractive, with brown shoulder length hair, that was held up above her collar as per uniform regulations. She had a reputation for being severe in her approach, but as her immediate supervisor on the development programme, Lucy had found her supportive, although she was in no doubt who was in charge and Amanda had no trouble holding Lucy to account.
"Good evening, Amanda. You wanted to see me?" Lucy said, trying to hide the inexplicable nervousness she felt at the unorthodox summons to the office.
"Hello Lucy. Take a seat," the Assistant Director said, indicating the chair in front of the desk. She watched as Lucy got herself settled into the uncomfortable visitor's chair.
"Look Lucy, I'm going to get straight to the point, this isn't going to be a pleasant conversation."
Lucy's stomach sank. She had known something was going on. It was so irregular to be called here like this.
Amanda continued before the young officer could respond. "I have received a complaint in relation to a custodial you executed on Wednesday morning," she paused to see the reaction. Lucy cast her mind back to Wednesday and remembered she had been executing the canings on the custody prisoners. The session in front of the audience. Amanda continued, "The complaint suggests you were excessive in your delivery of the punishment."
Lucy swallowed. "Well, I guess it wouldn't be the first time someone thinks they have been caned too hard," she ventured. She could hear the hopeful, tentative tone in her own voice and felt her face colour. She didn't know what the complaint was, but she knew it couldn't be that. A complaint like that wouldn't even make it past the receptionist.
"No Lucy, the complainant is your assistant." There was a silence in the room that was deafening. Lucy frantically searched her memory back to Wednesday. Three days ago. She'd executed a good number of punishments since then. She was doing canings Wednesday morning, whippings in the afternoon, the same on Thursday and all day today had been canings. She thought hard and remembered that her assistant had been Eleanor Campbell.
"But, I don't understa . .," her voice broke off as she realised what the complaint must be about.
Her boss started speaking again, breaking her line of thought, "On the morning session, the first custodial of the day was a Ciara Murphy, a 42 year old female from Cell 247 that received 18 strokes. Do you recollect that punishment?"
Lucy's mind was racing. She knew that she had overstepped the mark. The woman, more than ten years her senior, was perhaps the most controlled she'd ever caned. Her self control to manage her reactions to the strokes had started off as piquing Lucy's interest, because they were getting less as the punishment went on, not greater, which is what normally happens. Lucy had been determined to get a reaction from the woman.
She decided to be upfront -- honesty was going to be the best policy here. It would all be on CCTV anyway.
"I do, yes." She couldn't bring herself to add more. Her career would be over before it started. What had she done? How stupid!
"Can you explain why you felt it necessary to not only deviate from standard protocol but also breach the regulations themselves?" Her tone was not angry. Lucy's hands were on her lap and she was fidgeting. She stopped herself, feeling every bit the naughty schoolgirl in front of her head mistress.
"I was giving the punishment as normal. I noticed the prisoner was controlling get reactions more and more as I went on and that interested me, professionally. I mean I haven't seen that before. So, I adjusted the tempo to try to catch her off guard to see if that would affect her reactions."
"Well, Lucy. I can't describe how disappointed I am. Why would you threaten your career like this? I just don't understand. Not only was your delivery of the punishment irregular, but sitting here now, you are not being entirely frank with me either, are you?"
"Amanda.., I really am. I am being honest as to what I was thinking."
"Upon receiving this complaint, I naturally reviewed the file. If you are so adamant that all you did was alter the tempo, can you explain why Murphy's buttocks looked like this when you were finished?" the Director asked, as she clicked on the file photo that showed the prisoners buttocks at the end of the punishment. Not only was it on Amanda's computer screen, but a large TV on the wall.
There were a good number of deep red, angry looking welts showing on what was clearly the plump bottom of a woman. The picture was framed such that the black strap at her waist was clearly visible above her buttocks, pushing into the flesh of the woman's lower back. The image had been taken while she was still restrained to the punishment frame. The severity of the marks weren't the problem, Lucy knew that. The whole point of the punishment is to leave the prisoner in pain and discomfort and for their buttocks to show exactly such marks.
The realisation dawned on Lucy a second later. There were two stripes that went across the others diagonally across the buttocks, plain as day. She knew what she'd done. She'd known it was against procedure manual. But at that time, she'd been determined to get a final scream out of the older woman and she did so by doubling up as they called it in the profession, where you placed one stroke over another, but to do it across a series of others like this, was considered very bad form indeed.
Amanda clicked her mouse and the screen redrew to a new image of the same bottom, but now showing dark blue bruises where the stripes had been on the previous image. "This was taken this afternoon. You will see the normal bruising along the horizontal strokes which is to be expected, but here, here and here," her boss said, pointing at the screen, you will see grade B contusions where the top layer of skin has been broken where you have crossed your cane strokes."
Lucy knew she was in trouble. She should never have done that the other day, but she certainly shouldn't have limited the damage by trying to omit part of the story.
"Yes I see that. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," she said to her boss. It sounded so pathetic and weak as soon as it came out of her mouth. She wished immediately that she could take it back. She could remember the regulation by heart 'Cane strokes are to be placed parallel to each other and where not limited by virtue of number of strokes or the anatomy of the prisoner, should not overlap. This is to protect the integrity of the skin as much as is practicable.'
Her boss just looked at her for a moment. Lucy returned the gaze initially, but didn't manage to hold it. She cast her eyes down to her lap.
"There's no point apologising to me, Lucy. You have let yourself down, far more than me. You are such a promising officer, you could be sitting in my seat in a couple of years, except if I formally charge you with this, it will be stapled to every job application you make. Front and centre."
Lucy felt a glimmer of hope. Did she just say 'if'? "Yes Amanda. You are right, of course. I have been stupid," she looked up again to find her boss staring back at her. "I knew as soon as I did the two strokes in quick succession that I'd gone over the line and I should have sorted myself out there and then. I am sorry for this."
Lucy knew that the Corporal Punishment Regulations had provision to deal with officers and officials who abused their position in any way. The whole range of corporal punishments would be available to her boss as sentencing options after a Conduct Panel had sat and found her guilty of misconduct.
"I am well within my rights to suspend you and put you on a formal charge," Amanda said, leaving that statement hanging in the air.
"I understand," Lucy mumbled, fighting to hold back the tears. The thought of the some of the more painful punishments at the top end of the scale and gulped.
"However, I think that would be a waste of a very promising career for someone who is, usually at least, professional and a credit to the service," the Assistant Director continued. "I really don't want to do that."
Lucy looked up at her boss. Hope rushed into her. A glimpse of salvaging her fast track career was there.
"That said, I am not going to allow one of my officers to behave in such a manner. You need to remember this experience to guide you in the future." Lucy had no idea what was coming, she had been on an emotional rollercoaster since her email pinged at her desk.
Her senior officer continued, "I am prepared to issue you a regulation 86 notice, but if I am going to do that, I have some conditions of my own," she said as she looked at Lucy.
Lucy was on the edge of crying now. A regulation 86 notice was almost like a fixed penalty notice available to civilians. It essentially said, you've committed a relatively minor offence, if you pay a fine, we won't prosecute you formally. However, here, officers don't get to pay a fine, they have to submit to a punishment. 16 lashes with the whip or 8 strokes of the cane, if memory served Lucy.
When Lucy had found out she had been accepted into the level 1 Corporal Punishment module, she had decided she needed some understanding of what her prisoners would be feeling. She had never told a living sole this, but she had gone to a professional dominatrix for a day. She had been whipped and caned by the woman whilst tied down on a bed. Not exactly the same, but she knew it hurt. She'd always suspected though, that she got a much easier ride at the hands of the woman than the prisoners here got. With no frame of reference, it was hard to tell, but either she was very brave, had a high tolerance for pain, or her dominatrix had done her no favours by going easy. She was now about to find out. It scared her and thrilled her a little bit. The humiliation of being whipped or caned in her workplace was going to be something else though. That was not going to be good. Not good at all.
"I would require you to apologise to Murphy for your error of judgement," Amanda paused as that sunk in, and she will witness your punishment, in a private session after hours, here tomorrow night."
"Do you accept these conditions to the 86, or should I submit a formal charge?"
"Will I be caned or whipped?" Lucy asked.
"Does it matter?" her boss replied in question. She paused again and sighed before continuing, "I think it seems appropriate that you be caned, don't you?"
"Yes," replied Lucy.
"Yes, what? Yes you think you should be caned or yes you agree to my terms?" asked Amanda.
"Yes, I agree to your terms. Please issue the regulation 86 notice." Lucy felt that to show apparent willingness to learn and grow from this experience, could only help her.
"Very well then," Amanda said as she reached into that desk drawer, retrieving a large envelope. She slid the paperwork out. "I have written you up as committing a procedural irregularity. I think nice and vague is better in this circumstance. Technically speaking, you have 7 days to formally reply, but if you're going to meet my terms, I'm going to need it sooner than that. Now, really." She placed the paperwork onto the desk and placed a pen in front of Lucy.
Before she changed her mind, she picked up the pen and signed.
"You've made the right decision. I'll see you tomorrow. Report to punishment room 4 at 1830. 8 strokes of the cane. You'll be fine."
"Thank you, Amanda. See you tomorrow." Lucy got up, kicking herself mentally for thanking her boss for sentencing her to a caning. How ridiculous. She picked up her copy of the paperwork and left the office.
The benefit of a regulation 86 notice, was that once the punishment had been delivered, the record only stays on her file for 6 months for the first offence. This would take her to her next set of exams, which meant by the time she was going to apply for anything else, it would no longer be on her record. She had a sudden rush of gratitude for Amanda, realising what she had done for her.
She decided to abandon her run and go straight home instead.
The following day went as a blur to her. She'd hardly slept thinking about how stupid she'd been, but also about the impending punishment. Not so much the pain, although it was obviously going to hurt. Her main concern was the humiliation of being strapped down naked and caned by one of her colleagues in front of a prisoner, and probably her boss. Hardly consistent with the uber-professional Corrections Officer she was aiming to be.
She finished up her final punishment of the day -- a girl of 18 who had been sentenced to 15 whip lashes -- and got the paperwork done. She looked at the clock on the other side of the officer's admin hub. She still had 45 minutes to go. One of her colleagues was sat on the desk opposite doing his work. Everyone had been completely normal with her today. She had assumed everyone would know what was going to happen, but if they did, no one had given a sign. She sat at her desk for a bit longer, not really doing anything, watching the clock crawl around.
Eventually she got up and went to have a long walk around the centre to Punishment Room 4. The Punishment Rooms were separate from the accommodation part of the facility where the prisoners were locked in cells overnight, so the area was quiet now.
She arrived outside the door. She straightened her white, starched uniform shirt ensuring it was tucked in neatly to her dark blue trousers and smoothed over her breasts and stomach. She reached up to make sure that her red hair was tied back and above the collar as per regulations and looked down to her boots to ensure they were suitably shined. She realised she should have spent some of the time she wasted upstairs addressing her makeup, but it was too late now. She had checked-in her utility belt in at the end of her shift, so no baton or cuffs for her. She already felt only partly dressed without it, but realised it was about to get worse.
She hesitated, was she supposed to knock? What was the protocol for this situation. She opted for formality and gave a sharp knock on the door.
"Come," came the familiar voice of the Assistant Director.
She took a deep breath and pushed through the door. Inside the room were the usual disciplinary accompaniments, by far the most imposing was the punishment frame in the shape of an 'A'. Her eyes crossed that to the lower bench used for canings. That seemed all the more menacing today.
In the room already were her boss, the Assistant Director, the prisoner Murphy, sitting naked and in standard transport chains and a man she hadn't met before.
The prisoner was showing the tell tale signs of her short but intense stay at the prison. She had red marks and bruises over most of her body. Her breasts had the giveaway indents in her flesh that the discipline bra produced. In Lucy's expert opinion, she would estimate that the hapless prisoner's breasts had been painfully restrained in the metal torture device for most of the afternoon. There were bruises on her belly that indicated she had been caned -- that wasn't court ordered, Lucy knew from reading the file, so she must have broken rules. She was clean as the regulations required, but she looked tired and worn down -- a regime of a lack of sleep and the high stress environment. Her hands were cuffed to the chain cinched tightly around the bulging flesh of her stomach with the crotch chain disappearing between her legs. If Lucy's calculations were correct, Murphy was due to be released the following day.
The man and the Assistant Director had been in discussion on the other side of the frame from Murphy who was sitting in the front row of the spectators seats. He was tall with a muscular build and dark hair. He was probably late 40's and the insignia on his uniform indicated his seniority in the service. He looked at her, openly appraising her as she stood awkwardly at the door.
"Miss Starr, I presume," he said. Clearly a statement rather than a question.
"Yes Sir," she said in a professional, clipped reply that was customary to formal occasions within the Ministry of Justice.
Somehow, despite the fact this was not his prison and he was not based here, he seemed to be in charge. The insignia of rank made him no more senior than Amanda, but his presence in the Punishment Room was something else entirely.
"Your predicament has been explained to me and the Assistant Director has asked me to deal with you in a manner that will bring this whole sorry mess to a conclusion," he said.
Her mind was whirring. Lucy had assumed that she would be punished by Amanda and while Lucy didn't for a second imagine that she would go easy on her, she had not thought about the possibility of someone else being present. This brought a whole new dynamic to the situation that she had not been expecting and had not readied herself for. She had been by no means confident, but now she felt overwhelmed. She could feel the sweat forming on the palms of her hands and her mouth had become dry.
"In a moment, I am going to ask you to remove your clothes," he said so matter of factly, that it seemed an absolutely reasonable thing for him to say. He continued, "from that moment, any failure to follow an instruction or any resistance of any kind will result in a further punitive sanction. I feel it only fair that I should inform you at this stage, that breast punishment is a particular favourite of mine. Do you understand?"
This wasn't right! A regulation 86 disciplinary matter did not allow for extra punishment. You either complied or you were summoned on a formal charge. It certainly didn't allow for level 3 penalty such as breast punishment. Lucy looked wildly at Amanda who looked back at her coolly and impassively, waiting for her confirmation. Lucy looked across at the prisoner, who now had a very different look on her face, her interest piqued, and finally back at the male officer. "Yes, sir," she replied again.
"I believe Assistant Director Richards wishes to address you, before you strip your uniform off," he said. He put particular emphasis on the second part of that sentence which gave Lucy a sense of dread about being naked in front of this man.
"So, Officer Starr," Amanda had taken over. "We talked about my conditions and you said that you were agreeable. Please be assured that I have the best of intentions towards you, although for the next hour, I suspect it won't feel that way."
Lucy looked at her boss, searching for any hint of what the hell was going on. There was none. "Yes, ma'am," she replied, opting for formality. That seemed to satisfy her boss, who turned towards the prisoner next.
"Prisoner Murphy," she barked, waiting for the woman to get to her feet as required by regulations. The woman got up with some difficulty with her hands cuffed. When she stood, the room had an even greater view of the story of punishment and abuse on her body from the attention of the judicial system. "You may remember officer Starr from the caning you received to your buttocks. What you probably didn't realise is during your punishment, there was a small irregularity. I have to impress upon you that no laws were broken and as a result, you have no right of reparation. Do you understand so far?"
"Yes Miss," the prisoner replied.
"Officer Starr took a liberty with the rules in an unprofessional attempt to get a reaction from you, for which she will apologise in a moment before you witness her being caned informally. She is an excellent up and coming officer who has made a small mistake.
"The spectacle of an officer being caned in the presence of a prisoner is unheard of. I would ask for your discretion in this matter. No one would believe you in any event and if you ever suffer the misfortune of being the subject of punishment in my facility again having talked of this night, you will have more than a misplaced cane stroke to worry about. Do I make my myself clear?"
"Yes miss," the woman replied.
"You may sit back down," she commanded the prisoner, turning back to the male officer and giving the nod.
"Starr, on my command you will remove your boots and socks and then stand on the presentation square," he said, pointing at the painted square on the floor that Lucy had only ever seen a prisoner stand on. "Go!" he barked.
She found herself taking the couple of steps forward necessary to get to the square automatically. She was quite surprised at herself, but understood that she had no real choice, unless she wanted a formal charge stapled to every job application she ever filed in the service.
She bent down and undid the boots removing them and her regulation socks. The floor was cold against her warm skin. She stood rigidly, waiting for the next, inevitable command.
"Uniform shirt next, Starr," came the next instruction from the man.
She had guessed as much. It would have been what she would have done in his position. There's much more likely to be greater embarrassment for the prisoner removing the shirt first. There's a lot more under there for women to be insecure about. She wasn't going to fall for this though. She knew it was straight out of humiliation 101. She was going to ultimately end up completely naked for the caning, so it really made very little difference in what order it happened. She had made peace with that last night. Or so she thought.
She found her hands were slowing down as she got to the bottom of the buttons on the stiffly starched white shirt. She forced herself onwards. She didn't want to give him the pleasure of allowing him to hurry her. She slipped the shirt off her shoulders and folded it, placing it on the floor next to her boots.
She stood back up straight with her hands by her sides, looking at him and letting him take in the view. She was determined to appear confident even though that was the last thing she was feeling.
Her skin was pale with a sprinkling of freckles across her shoulders and upper chest to go with her natural red hair. Her chest was of medium size, she'd always been happy with her breast size, but they were dwarfed by those of the older, naked prisoner. Her breasts were held in a plain brassiere with a very basic pattern. It was a light blue colour and fully covered her breasts. Her chest was rising and falling with her breathing that she was managing to keep steady at least for now. Her stomach was flat and toned without being muscular, her uniform trousers covered her stomach up to her navel.
"Bra next, officer Starr," he said.
She could have bet he was going to say that. It was again, basic psychology. Making her bare her chest in front of her clothed colleagues would be expected to heighten her embarrassment. Not to mention, the added benefit he would get from her bending over to take her trousers off which would cause her breasts to hang away from her body.
She reached behind her back, unclipped the bra and pulled it forwards off her chest in a rapid, smooth movement. She would never admit this to anyone, but she had practiced that the previous night infront of the mirror. She had wanted to make sure she could do it with as much dignity as possible.
She dropped the bra on top of her shirt and looked back at the uniformed man with as much confidence as she could muster. Her naked breasts stood proudly on her chest as she determinedly kept her hands down by her sides despite the powerful urge to use her hands to cover herself. Her medium breasts had little nipples and tight little areolas. They were already beginning to harden which Lucy thought odd, as it wasn't cold in the room.
https://xhamster.com/posts/10563164
2 months ago
