Literotic asexstories – Judicial Punishment Lottery Pt. 07 by Gortmundy,Gortmundy
Not much sex in this one by the way. But the second half should make up for it.
Judicial Punishment Lottery Pt. 07
When Margo awoke, she sighed happily and turned in her bunk, careful not to disturb the young woman sleeping next to her.
This was the ninth day of her ten-day sentence of “Correctional Therapy” for Assaulting a Police Officer and if anyone had suggested she would have found the experience quite so revealing she would have immediately called them out for being utterly deluded, but there it was.
Only a few days ago Margo had brought Sally, an indentured pleasure slave, with her from the United States to Scotland on vacation only to find that the institution of judicial slavery was not tolerated in that country. When Sally had been summarily emancipated on arrival by the Scottish authorities Margo, who had been more than a little drunk at the time, had caused quite a scene at the airport, culminating in her slapping a uniformed Police Officer as he was arresting her for Breaching the Peace, whatever that meant.
She had been restrained, handcuffed, arrested and thrown unceremoniously into a Police cell. After a brief, but excoriating appearance in court she had been sentenced to a public caning, a mandatory period of so called “Correctional Therapy” in a specialised short-term prison, followed by five hundred hours of Community Service, which had to be carried out naked, of course, to further increase the shame of the punishment.
Given she was considered a flight risk, which was fair enough because if she had been given even half a chance, she would have been on the first flight out of the country, her passport was seized and she was to be locked up in prison, albeit on a day-release basis, until her full sentence was completed.
All in all, it was a bit of a bloody nightmare, or so she initially thought.
But the funny thing was that she had always felt thoroughly ashamed of the way she had kept Sally as a sex slave. She was going through a horrible divorce at the time, was drinking far too much, was miserably lonely, and the pretty young thing had been almost a lifeline, keeping her company and brightening her day just by being there, even when she was otherwise miserable as Hell.
That plus, she was ashamed to say, having her soft body to play with in her bed was just simply wonderful.
Unfortunately, she had never really thought how it affected the girl, being enslaved, and sexually abused at the whim of her Mistress and owner. Margo liked to think she wasn’t as cruel as many, but she had still used the young woman as a toy, still forced her to indulge in all manner of thoroughly lewd acts just to please her, she’d spanked her more than once, and not always as a punishment, but sometimes simply because she wanted to, and because she got a sexual thrill from having a lovely girl naked and over her knee.
She’d never beaten the girl with a cane, or belt, didn’t make her kneel or crawl, nor did she keep her nude like she heard some others did. She’d given the young woman her own room and never called her “slut” or anything mean like that. But now she realised just how pitiful those concessions really were. She had still used her as a plaything, and the girl had no choice but to do as she was told, smile, and pretend she enjoyed it when her Mistress took her to bed or made her perform all those sexual acts on her.
Margo thought of all the times she had fondled, kissed, licked, fucked, and gone down on the young woman, hoping to make her enjoy it as much as she did, but despite her cries of passion she was now sure Sally’s responses were probably as much forced as anything else.
No, she’d been kidding herself. She was a fucking monster, and it was a good thing that Sally had been freed.
The beating she had received for slapping the cop had been thorough and excruciating, but it paled into insignificance compared to the shame she felt over what she had done to the poor girl. Legal or not, her behaviour was reprehensible. When she had power over the woman, she hadn’t been as kind as she thought, but instead had descended to the level of nothing more than a state-sanctioned rapist.
Now, perhaps belatedly, it was time to start making amends.
If she did that then maybe, just maybe, one day, she might even be able to look at her reflection in the mirror again and not be disgusted by the person she saw.
Margo was surprised at the effect this experience was having on her. She hadn’t realised just how much the weight of all the shame and guilt she was carrying had weighed her down, and now, with it lifted from her shoulders It was almost liberating in a sense. in fact, for the first time in years, she actually felt almost good about herself.
That wasn’t to say being locked up was all fun and games, or a cakewalk, by any means. She had been told in no uncertain terms that “Correctional Therapy” was a hideous ordeal of corporal punishment and brutality, but it just… wasn’t.
Well, it was, and it wasn’t at the same time.
Sure, the induction, showering strip and cavity search and all that had been as fucking awful as one would expect. But while the Wardens were efficient, uncompromising and downright strict in the extreme, they weren’t brutal. They didn’t demean their charges any more than was necessary, didn’t call them names, bully them or indulge in all the sick and sexual indulgences she’d heard happened in the slave-camps back home.
Sure, if you gave them lip, they would bend you over a bench and beat your naked ass in full view of everyone with the leather tawse they all carried. But if you were polite, kept yourself and your bunkspace clean and tidy, did the chores they allocated, and caused no trouble then they let you be for the most part.
The daily inspections were a pain in the ass, but again, make sure you were presented on time, keep yourself clean, answer when spoken to and make sure your cell was presentable, and like as not you would only get a single demerit.
The demerits were another weird thing. Some idiots were either lazy or stupid and could garner as many as a half dozen at a time. You could work them off by taking extra physical education classes, or volunteering for extra lectures, but if you ever got a total of ten then you suffered an immediate punishment, and each of the bloody things was worth six strokes on your bare butt with a tawse.
There were mandatory physical education sessions each morning in the gymnasium, or out on the track, and they could be hard work, but if you put in the effort, you would be okay. Margo had been hitting the gym and taking palates classes every day for years, so that presented her with no problems.
The compulsory lectures were mostly about the social contract between citizen and state and all that sort of thing, but they weren’t that bad. Plus, there were a couple of lectures teaching numeracy and literacy to those inmates that needed it.
She had volunteered to assist with those classes and given her degrees in business studies and computing, as well as her experience in successfully running her own companies back home the teaching staff had been happy to have her. It was a good way to work off stray demerits, plus the teaching staff were interesting to talk to.
So far, she had garnered a few demerits and had been given a belting once when a Warden heard her swearing when she first tasted the God-awful excuse for coffee they served. It was pretty funny when she thought of it, and even the Warden had grinned, but that didn’t stop her from being bent over the breakfast table, made to lower her bottoms and panties in full view of everyone, and despite her blushes and tears being given six strokes with the belt. The weird thing was the way the other inmates didn’t even bat an eye, it was just one of those things that happened in this place.
Mind you it had still stung like a bastard.
She shared a cell with Amanda Bailey, the young student and environmental activist she had met in the Police cells. Like her she had suffered a judicial caning and even after eight days the pattern of stripes crisscrossing their asses were still visible. They’d managed to get some cold cream from the prison commissary and spent an embarrassing, but otherwise pretty entertaining evening taking turns smearing the stuff over the livid marks on each other’s still stinging posteriors. They’d both ended up blushing and gigging like kids, but damn if the girl’s gentle fingers and the bliss of the cold cream on her blistered ass hadn’t felt so good!
Amanda was a pretty brunette with honey-brown hair and eyes like chocolate caramel. She had pouty lips, high cheekbones and a cheeky smile that Margo thought was just ridiculously cute. Curvy and attractive the woman set Margo’s pulse racing every time she lay alongside her. Last night the younger woman had rolled over in her sleep and her breasts had squashed against the blonde American. Then she’d unconsciously reached round and pulled Margo close, nestling almost like a child before murmuring happily in her sleep. It was fucking torture!
Like Margo, Amanda was no hardened criminal, just a young woman with convictions that had gotten her into trouble. But she was young, barely twenty years old, a student at Glasgow University, and she had been terrified of what would happen to her in this place. On the first night she had ended up weeping in her cell until Margo wrapped her arms around the girl and just held her.
Since then, she had spent every night sharing a bunk with the older woman. Margo had contented herself with just holding the poor girl, cuddling her, comforting her as best she could while stroking her hair and whispering that she would be okay, and that they would get through it.
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