Police Station Corporal Punishment

She watched him watching her and was disgusted by him. He was leering at her, openly. Anywhere else and she would be doing something about his attitude, but not here. She had absolutely no doubt in her mind that to say anything would not help her cause at all, so she kept her lips tightly pressed together and concentrated on not telling him exactly what she was thinking. He had put a headset on with a mic on a boom as if he were playing a game and he had picked up a camera from the desk. She gulped, understaning immediately what was about to happen.

"OK," he said. "We got there eventually, although I don't think you are ever going to win any prizes for speed. I now need to examine you to determine the best punishment methodology. I want you to spread your legs so that you feet are on the outside of the painted square and place your hands on the back of your head, interlinking your fingers," he instructed in a tone that sounded downright predatorial to her. She imagined him as a snake with her the mouse, stuck in the enclosure. She had no escape and she knew it. She took a deep breath and then did as she was told.

She put her hands on the back of her head, linking her fingers as she had been told and pushed her elbows back and her chest out. If she was going to be forced to adopt these humiliating positions, she might as well try to look like it wasn't bothering her.

She glanced down and moved her feet out. Her thigh muscles pulled slightly, with her feet that far apart, but it wasn't too bad. If she'd been a bit shorter, she'd have been really uncomfortable though.

He put a headset on with a mic on a boom, like he worked in a call centre. He approached her and began speaking. "This is the pre-punishment inspection of Lisa McKenzie, a 21 year old student at the City's University. She has been compliant throughout and appears before me, naked and in the inspection position. Also in the room is Officer Parker who escorted the prisoner for the assessment and remains as chaperone."

He stepped towards her and she involuntarily tensed, even though he still wasn't within touching distance.

"She is 5ft 7inches in height and her body type of medium, with some additional weight on the hips and thighs," he said into the microphone, speaking ever so matter of factly

Lisa gasped at his comment, and nearly broke position before catching herself at the last moment. She swallowed what she was about to say, but she could feel her pulse pounding in her head as her rage built inside her, 'cheeky fucking arsehole, how dare he?' thoughts crashed through her mind.

Seemingly oblivious to her reaction, although he wasn't, he had noted it carefully, he carried on. "She has brown hair in ringlet curls which go to shoulder length and would not interfere with impact punishment to the back or shoulders. She is white Caucasian with a pale skin tone approximately 1C on the skin tone chart. Her skin is predominantly clear save for the occasional small to medium pigmentation." He had begun walking around her, slowly looking over every inch of her body and continuing to talk into his headset..

"Her buttocks are full and even with a prominent crease between buttock and thigh. There is some slight dimpling of the skin on her upper rear thighs, which is likely the result of carrying a little excess weight," he continued.

Lisa was furious and it was getting worse the more she listened. This was appalling the way he was describing her as if she were cattle at the market. Shame burned deeply into her face and it countered her tendency to tell him to "fuck off", instead making her cower into herself hoping it would stop soon. The emotional impact of this was already high and nothing had really happened yet. Sh had to remind herself that she had agree to this and it was all in the cause of realising her career aims. She could feel herself literally gritting her teeth as she endured his humiliating assessment of her physique.

"Her back is reasonably muscular in the upper thoracic area and lower cervical, across the shoulders," he continued into his microphone, "but with a prominent recess along the spine on the lower lumber region where her abdomen and hips are at the fullest. She looks to be in good physical form for impact punishment to the upper back, consistent with a level 1 or 2 punishment," he stated. Her mind jumped to the image of a sailor on an old ship, strapped up to the rigging being whipped, a classic historical image, from text books and similar. A truly terrifying image to someone about to suffer a similar fate. She worried that surely that must scar, but before she could scare herself any further, he seemingly excluded a back whipping.

"However," he said she has two tattoos on her back, one floral design on her left shoulder blade, approximately 5cm wide and maybe 10 cm tall, and one in a central position at the base of the spine in a round, celtic type design, approximately 5cm in height."

Lisa heard a camera noise which made her jump. 'He's taking pictures now, what a pervert!!' It was very disconcerting standing there with him looking so closely at her body from behind and her not being able to see what was going on. She felt so vulnerable in that moment.

"Whilst the presence of tattoos doesn't preclude a body area for punishment according to regulations, in this county we will avoid the area where there is a viable alternative to prevent any risk of permanent disfigurement to the ink design in the event of a skin break," he added. Lisa wasn't sure whether that was supposed to be for her benefit, but she didn't reply in case it got her in trouble.

"Miss McKenzie, I need you to bend at the waist, placing your hands on your knees," he said.

It took her a full second to realise he'd said her name, and then another second to react. "Err... what?" she stuttered.

"It's really quite simple. Take your hands off your head and put them on your knees, bending at the waist as you do so," he said, using a tone of voice suggesting he may be talking to a total idiot.

She was under no illusions the kind of view that was going to give him. Her boyfriend was quite open about his joy in taking her from behind for that very reason. She was conflicted because she wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she knew that would be counterproductive. This was just too awful. He was awful and she hated him. Her hate burned inside her, but, after pausing a beat, she told herself that her choice was really no choice at all and she complied. Her legs were spread wider than they were comfortable with because of the painted square and getting her hands on her knees, put her in a slightly unbalanced position, but she managed it. She hung her head in shame which meant her gaze was looking back, down her own body and out between her spread legs where she could see his feet. Her small breasts hung down and her stomach had squashed into a roll which meant she couldn't see her own vagina, but she was damn certain he was getting a good view. She closed her eyes, in disgust at him and at herself for getting into this position in the first place.

"The buttocks and upper thighs seem to present a reasonable area for punishment. In this position the skin remains visibly flexible," he continued in his dictation tone, and then to Lisa, "Miss McKenzie, please stamp one foot on the floor," in the instructive tone he had used earlier.

She sighed, thinking that her humiliation must now be at its crescendo as she did as she was told. She lifted her left foot and dropped it back to the floor. She felt the wobble he was looking for and before he said it, she knew what was going to come next.

"With the kinetic stimulus, the flesh of the buttocks has moved freely, indicating a low likelihood of damage to underlying physiology below the skin," he said into his microphone.

'Well ok, not quite the exact words -- they were pretty fancy' she thought, 'but yeah ok, I've got a fat arse!'

"She has a medium covering of pubic hair which, whilst permissible for a level one punishment as she will be receiving today, this would earn her additional punishment for non compliance at a Punishment Centre."

She wondered the point of this statement. She had heard about the requirements of no body hair at all for the Punishment Centre and it was generally considered one of the most unfair requirements. She couldn't see any relevance to her here this evening though. She assumed it was just to try to humiliate her just that little bit further.

He spoke again, "As this is a level one punishment, there is no need to assess breasts, stomach or genital areas. Miss McKenzie, you are free to return to your standing position. Thank you for you cooperation," he said.

She stood straight and felt the muscles in her lower back screaming at here from the prolonged few minutes in that entirely unnatural position.

"Please come and step on this scale," he asked, pointing to a medical scale in the corner. She stepped over, now convincing herself that this was like a routine medical appointment. She stepped over and onto it, steadfastly refusing to look at the number.

"Ok," he said, "and now the wall chart please," he said, indicating a wall with height lines painted on it. She dutifully stepped over and stood with her back to it. "Turn around and face the wall, hold your arms out to the side and get your nose within a centimeter or so of the wall. Stand up straight and don't slouch."

Again, she felt yet another shred of dignity leave her. She couldn't believe she actually had any left, and yet she kept finding new lows. Again, she complied without comment.

"Ok," he said, as he checked her height against the chart, "as I suspected, Miss McKenzie, you could probably do with loosing a couple of kilos. Purely from a health protection point of view, nothing to do with the punishment, you understand," he said.

She ground her teeth with her anger, knowing full well that this was completely unrelated to any of his inspection, and instead he was just saying this to humiliate her. She didn't comment, she just let the rage burn inside her that little bit more. He was too close to her for her liking, necessary for the checking of the measurement. He smelled a little stale, like he was wearing clothes that he probably wore yesterday. She was not at all comfortable with him so close to her. The muscles of her upper arms were starting to feel the strain of being held out like they were in the unnatural position. There seemed to her to be an awkward pause to proceedings, at this point. Him very much in her personal space and her still facing the wall like a naughty school girl on detention, except for the nudity. A moment later, he stepped away and headed back to his desk. "Thank you Miss McKenzie, you can return to the square now," he said, taking off his gloves on the way. "You can get dressed into this now," he said, passing her a small pile of bright yellow material, that turned out to be scrubs, like they wore in hospitals.

She was really disappointed to not get her own clothes back, but was grateful to be able to cover herself. She fumbled with the first garment for a minute, working out which way the top went and then got it over her head and her arms in. The material was thin, but it was clean and smelled of detergent. It wasn't new, and as she pulled the trousers up she was trying not to think about the people who had worn these clothes before her. She assumed that none of them had been wearing knickers either.

"So, I will be approving your fitness for a level one punishment to the buttocks and or upper rear thighs. Your physiology is such to withstand such a punishment. I have excluded your back due to your two tattoos and cosmetic risk, despite that risk being slight. I must inform you however, this is not a prohibitive ruling and your back could still be the area punished if necessary for operational reasons," he explained. "the actual punishment you receive will be using the strap or the cane, which is a decision for the police. You will now be taken to a cell for the remainder of the night before you are called for punishment in the morning."

Her mind be began whirring again, 'did he say cane?', she was trying to make sense when the custody officer appeared at her side again. "Well done Lisa, this is always tough. Can I trust you to cooperate and me not need handcuffs?" she asked, exactly according to her training. The use of the word 'trust' and 'cooperate' and to use a consultative tone of voice, built a subconscious bond between officer and offender. It worked a treat as it almost always did.

Lisa nodded enthusiastically, a rush of relief and gratitude flowing through her as the other woman spoke to her like a person, in fact almost as an equal, directly opposite how the man had spoken to her. "Yes, absolutely!" she said, keenly.

"Come on then, let's go," she said and turned to leave. Lisa almost missed the cue and the officer was a few steps across the room, before Lisa managed to get her feet moving to follow. She got caught up as the officer had the door open and she was ushered out into the corridor. Neither woman spoke to the man and he showed them no interest at all. The door closed behind the officer and lots felt herself breath a sigh of relief. She was so glad to be away from him even though she was aware she was stepping closer to her punishment, whatever that may turn out to be. "I think you've got through the worst bit now. They always make that difficult, I don't know why. Let's get you settled down with somewhere to try and get some sleep. Do you fancy a brew?"

"Yes please!" Lisa said, and found herself fighting back tears at the women's kindness. She was unsuccessful and despite her best effort, she felt a single tear escape and roll down her cheek. As they walked, they passed back through the main desk area where Lisa looked for Amanda, but saw no sign of her, and then down a corridor with solid cell doors on both sides. A lot were closed, but they arrived at the first open one. The officer held the door like a butler and ushered Lisa into the cell.

"How do you take it?" she asked Lisa.

Lisa was looking into the cell. Tiled white walls, concrete floor painted grey, a cot, a sink and toilet combo, exactly like she'd expect to see on any TV show. It smelt like hospital clean and as she looked at the floor, she could see some bubbles by a drain in the corner of the floor with a little wet patch around it. "Err, take what?" said Lisa, her mind whirring a little at what the woman meant. She didn't expect Lisa to bend over and....

The uniformed woman smiled at her, "maybe you should sit down before you fall down," she said in sympathetic tone, "how do you take your tea?" she asked.

"Oh! Milk, no sugar, thank you so much," she said, relief flooding over her.

"Ok, I'll be back in a minute or two, why don't you have a sit on the bed?" she asked, as she stepped backwards out of the cell and shut the door.

Lisa did as was suggested and sat down. The bed was actually not too bad and not what she had expected in terms of hardness. She looked around the small room which was brightly lit and very institutional in it's presentation. There was definitely a smell of cleaning product hanging in the air which didn't seen to be moving although there was a ventilation shaft in the ceiling, which was ominously loud in the silence of the cell. There was what Lisa assumed was a small window up near the ceiling, which was about 6 inches high, but because it was night time outside, it just looked like a dark hole contrasting with the white tile.

Looking back towards the door, there was a metal ring attached to the wall at about waist height but near the head of the bed. Lisa didn't want to dwell on the possible purpose of that ring too much. The back of the door was a dull steel which was pocked and marked with scuffs and scratches from the room's previous occupants, Lisa imagined. The most obvious thing about the door was the lack of handle, and her total dependency on someone else to release her hit home to her in the moment. She was vulnerable to whatever they chose to do with her. How would anyone even know? The only person who has witnessed her arrest was also incarcerated somewhere in here. She could be stuck here for ever and they could come and do anything they wanted. Having already experienced the handcuffs, she could only imagine how helpless she would be if she was also chained to the ring in the wall.

As her thoughts started to spiral into the dark place she was clearly heading herself into, a loud thunk noise came from the door. It made her jump and she felt her spine tingle, her senses already on full alert, her subconscious brain, the illogical ancient evolutionary part, was on full alert, the 'fight or flight' function was kicking in loud and clear. Whatever was coming through that door was going to be bad news and her body involuntarily started to move away towards the back of the cell, but only resulting in a fractional actual movement which didn't carry momentum.

The door opened and it was the officer standing there with two paper cups in a cardboard holder, with steam coming out them. She smiled, warmly, and Lisa took an audible sigh of relief that surprised even her. "Tea's up," she said, brightly. "I've brought myself one too, just in case you've got any questions," she said, handing a cup over to her prisoner. She stayed stood up, in the doorway of the cell, but leaned casually on the door frame.

Lisa took the tea gratefully, it was too hot through the thin cardboard to hold properly, so she had to hold it with two fingers around the lip of the cup. Her mind whirred again. She had loads of questions, the most obvious being 'how bad will it hurt' but she thought she'd look stupid if she asked that. Of course it was going to hurt bad. That's the point.

The officer smiled at her, as if reading her thoughts. "Perhaps it would help if I explained the process from here?" she suggested.

"That would be great, thank you," Lisa said. Once again, she was feeling a rush of gratitude for this woman, who was being reasonable with her in such contrast to the dickhead she'd just come from.

"Well, once I leave you alone, I will turn the lights down in here and it's your chance to try to get some sleep. I'm sure you'll hear all sorts of noises out here, but don't you worry about any of it, it's usually pretty routine. At 6 in the morning, you'll be woken up and at 6:30 someone will come to collect you," her voice almost trailed off, but she managed to keep the tone steady.

Lisa looked expectantly at her, waiting for the next bit which was, she imagined, the crunchy part. The idea she was going to be able to sleep was laughable, she couldn't imagine being able to sleep for a week.

The woman continued, "You'll be taken over to the Punishment Room and prepared so that you're ready when they are and then when it's your turn, you'll be put on the Punishment Bench and you'll take your punishment. I noticed he decided no back whipping for you, I think he did you a favour there. For a back whipping, you're stood up with your arms above your head, but with everything else, you're lying face down. I always think that's a bit more dignified and a little less exposing," she said, but then added quickly, "but of course, that's just me."

"What does getting prepared involve?" asked Lisa, taking a sip of the hot liquid. It wasn't bad, surprisingly.

"Err, well, you'll have to take your clothes off again, and you'll have restraints put on your wrists and ankles so that there's no fuss when it's your turn."

"So, I'm naked?" Lisa asked, in a beaten down tone. Her mouth had gone dry again, so she tried more tea, but couldn't face it, so lowered her cup again.

"Afraid so. From the moment you enter the Punishment Suite, you'll be naked until you're given your clothes back before you're released and sent on your way. But then, so it's everyone else, so I wouldn't worry too much about it."