Rosie's DUI - The Punishment

Story Info
Stacey witnesses Rosie's public caning.
8k words
4.56
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Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 03/23/2024
Created 09/18/2021
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jdb12399
jdb12399
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Author's note

This chapter covers the punishment of Rosie which is witnessed by Stacey. I have brought the chapter to an end at the conclusion of the punishment. Would you like to see what happens between them after the punishment? If so, please comment to let me know, or even better drop me a message via the Literotica 'Send Private Feedback' option. If you include your email I will reply.

As always: This is a work of fiction dealing with dubious/non consensual punishment in a legal setting. There is humiliation, nudity and physical punishment. If this is not your thing, please don't continue reading. Any likeness to any real people is entirely coincidental.

Enjoy and thanks for reading!

X XX

Rosie's hands were cuffed behind her as she was led onto the stage in the punishment room, her breasts bound tightly with the leather strips the technician had applied and they were already beginning to colour. There was nothing she could do to hide them with her hands locked behind her and she could feel the shame burning on her face.

Her stomach was what was bothering her the most though, the technician had fastened the wide leather belt around the top of her stomach, pushing her chubby belly out at the bottom. It massively emphasised the bit of her body was by far the most unhappy with.

The audience were in three rows of high seats, so they were looking down slightly on the stage area. The lights were bright, shining in towards Rosie making it really difficult to see and make out the faces in the crowd. Rosie panicked as she realised, she couldn't see Stacey up there. Her technician pushed her forward slightly as she had slowed while trying to look.

She was followed by the other two women from the preparation room, both of them with their hands cuffed too. The blonde who was getting her back whipping and the Asian woman who was having her breasts whipped.

The technicians each took their respective prisoners to their restraint devices. There were three of them on the stage, two of the same design in the shape of an upside down letter 'Y' and one cross in the shape of a 'T' with a cross bar at right angles to the stand.

Rosie was taken to the upside down 'Y' design by her technician as was the Asian woman getting her breasts whipped while the blonde ended up at the 'T'.

Up close, Rosie could see the frame was made up of dark solid wood adorned with wide brown leather straps and areas of soft padding which were leather covered too. Overall, it was a very imposing sight, especially as she was standing there naked with her hands cuffed behind her. She could feel tears starting to well up in her eyes already but blinked them back and shook her head to get control of herself again.

Her technician, a tall woman, a similar age to Rosie herself, spoke quietly in her ear, "Ok, I'm going to remove your handcuffs now. When I tell you, I want to turn around and step back against the frame. No sudden movements, ok?"

Rosie nodded but didn't speak. This was it; the time had come. She took a deep breath to steel herself, but the movement hurt her boobs because of the tight binding. The woman used her key to unlock first one wrist and then the other. Rosie's hands went straight to her breasts.

She used her momentary freedom to feel the skin of her boobs. It had been drawn really tight by the binding around their base. They felt different to how they usually did, much less bouncy and the skin felt thinner and softer. She wasn't sure if that was the binding around the base or the fastening up and around the back of her neck which was lifting the breasts unnaturally upward. Her nipples were pushed out too, and whilst not exactly erect, were definitely positioned more prominently than if gravity were permitted its usual pull on them.

The technician put her hand on Rosie's shoulder, "come on, turn around and take a couple of steps backwards," she said, bringing her prisoner's attention back to the task in hand.

Rosie complied allowing herself to be turned around so that her back was to the frame, and she was facing the spectators looking down on the scene. She searched the rows again, looking for Stacey. The lights were shining in her eyes, but she was beginning to be able to make out the individual shapes of the people.

Her search was interrupted though as the technician pushed her gently but firmly backwards into the frame. Despite her nakedness and the coolness of the air in the room, the leather of the back rest was still cold against her warm skin, and it shocked her.

The technician, who was well practiced at this, used the moments of her prisoner's surprise to fasten the first restraint strap, trapping her charge against the frame. The leather strap was fastened just below her tied breasts and above the wide belt that was digging into her stomach.

"Hold your wrists together out in front," the technician instructed as she collected a pair of leather cuffs to fix to Rosie's wrists. As the technician worked, Rosie began to search again, person by person, the paid off feeling alone here growing more acute with every person she checked without finding Stacey.

In no time at all, each wrist had a leather cuff locked onto it and then locked together. The technician brought a metal cable down the top of the frame above Rosie's head and clipped the hook to the cuffs. She stepped behind and began winding the pulley handle, raising Rosie's wrists up above and slightly behind her head. She didn't stop and kept going until Rosie grunted from the discomfort.

Her new position forced her chest up and out towards the spectators and framed her face between her arms. The cuffs were pulling tightly on her wrists, and she shifted as much as she could, held by the chest restraint, to find comfort, but without much success.

The technician came back around the front and knelt down in front of the helpless woman to fasten cuffs around each ankle, forcing them to the extremities of the inverted 'Y' shape. Once that was done, she repeated the process with more leather restraint straps at Rosie's thighs, tightening them sufficiently to cause a noticeable indent in her skin and forcing a slight bulge of flesh around the straps.

Rosie was completely helpless and totally exposed. She was really very aware of how her freshly shaved pussy was on total display, spread out in front of a crowd of strangers. At least, hopefully they were strangers, she thought glumly.

She still hadn't found Stacey, but then she saw a figure standing and waving slightly and she had found her. An unreasonable amount of relief flooded through Rosie as she realised, she wasn't alone in this. She smiled, despite herself and all of a sudden, she felt that little bit more comfortable.

The technician wasn't finished yet though, in a final addition to the humiliation of this position that she was forced into, she approached her charge with gloved hands carrying a wooden block shaped like a still triangle. Using one gloved hand, she pushed the soft flesh of Rosie's most intimate body part, up as far as she could, locking the triangle of wood into the frame and releasing.

The effect was to push the tip of the blunted triangle up in between the lips of her vagina and making a very uncomfortable perch for Rosie.

The top was pushing against her pubis bone and the only way to relieve the pressure there was to lift herself ever so slightly against the restraints, by using her arm muscles. She immediately recognised her predicament and therefore that for the next hour she would be able to choose pain in her shoulders or pain in her pussy.

The technician pushed a button on the wall and a large digital clock began to count down the individual seconds and minutes of the hour which she was sentenced to endure this for.

X x x

Stacey watched as Rosie went to sit down in the waiting area with the other very glum looking people. She really wanted to chase after her and just hug her. The guilt that Stacey felt at Rosie's predicament was gut wrenching for her. She stood on the bottom step while she watched Rosie, whose back was to her, find a seat and sit down awaiting her punishment. Stacey glanced around the room and at the receptionist. The staff was carrying on like it was a perfectly normal day. The waiting room had the feel of maybe a doctor or a dentist's room, perfectly civil, no sign that the practices in this place were so painful and humiliating.

She turned and made her way up the stairs to a landing. She had to show her ticket to a member of staff who greeted her and scanned the barcode, just like going to the cinema. Also, like going to the cinema, there was a little cafe counter where coffee and snacks could be bought. There were people milling around, sitting in groups drinking coffee and chatting casually. Stacey stood, taking the scene in and thinking it looked so casual and relaxed. A scene out of any sort of retail or leisure park in its presentation and feel, covering a much darker purpose.

Stacey turned her attention to working out where she needed to be. She referred to her ticket which didn't help, that was just general admission. She walked a little further down the corridor and found an information screen which was lists of Punishment Rooms with the names of those who were due to be disciplined. She found Rosie on the screen:

Room 4 1800hrs

Name: Rosie Thompson

Offence(s):

Driving whilst over the prescribed limit of alcohol

Driving without a policy of insurance in place

Punishment Order:

Twenty (20) strokes (cane) (abdomen)

Sixty (60) minutes exposure (restricted audience) with enhancement (breasts bound)

Stacey's heart skipped a beat as she read Rosie's name and punishments listed for all to see. The whole point of driving this far, she thought, was that she was where people didn't know her. To then write her name on a public information board seemed a little pointless to Stacey.

She read and reread the entry, which was one among three, two other women, one who was to have her back whipped for theft and the other who was to have her breasts whipped for assault. She couldn't help herself but cast her mind back to the kitchen in her flat where she held Rosie's breasts in her hands and was causing at least a little bit of pain. That had led straight to the bedroom for sex with the girl that Stacey had fantasied about more than once. She could feel the beginnings of arousal and cursed herself for being so sick. Arousal was absolutely not what she should be feeling. It wasn't right no matter how hot she found Rosie and how kinky she was if she was honest with herself.

She wondered how the system decided the different punishments and what made one woman be sentenced to a breast whipping and another a back whipping. She wondered which was actually worse. The breast punishment seemed to be an attack on the femininity of the victim which, in Stacey's opinion at least, must make it worse. But then, on the other hand, back whipping was the more traditional punishment, so that must be effective in its brutality too.

She got knocked from the side as a couple of lads of perhaps 20 or so crowded into to see the screen but apparently didn't see much of interest and moved to look at the others. She wondered again what would catch their interest. The motivation for boys of their age coming to see naked women punished was obvious, but what made them decide that the menu of offerings on this screen could be bettered, Stacey had no idea.

She decided to go and work out where the room was and find a seat. She wanted to make sure that Rosie would be able to see her if possible. She wanted her to feel supported and Stacey knew her friend wouldn't know that she was finding this whole situation mildly arousing. She was extremely conflicted by her feelings, and it was causing her some angst. She couldn't help but again take her mind back to Rosie being sat in that chair in her kitchen, Stacey hurting her breasts and squeezing and stretching the soft delicate flesh. Was she still her friend, or was that something more now, she wondered.

She shook her head to clear the thought from her mind and focussed on the signage to find her room. Along the corridor and on the right by the look of things. She still had some time before the time on the board so she decided she would get a coffee to take in with her. She headed over to the coffee counter and grabbed one in a takeaway paper cup, then headed to the room.

She pushed open the double door and walked into the room. It reminded her of a lecture theatre at university. There were three rows of seats up on a raised platform looking down onto the room. There were bright lights shining down of what was essentially the stage.

There was a spattering of people mostly in twos and threes, but at the end was a group of a half dozen or so young men, who were a little loud and boisterous, but keeping themselves to themselves. Stacey decided that she would keep as far from them as she could and chose a seat in the second row back at the opposite end of the line to the group.

She surveyed the scene in front of her on the lower level. There was no-one down there, but the space was dominated by some pieces of furniture and equipment that had very obvious purposes. There were three large frames with straps hanging loosely that would soon be wrapped tightly around bodies of the women being restrained. The lights were such that there were no shadows and the detail of everything was extremely clear.

It was so peaceful and quiet, at least for now. She wondered how she would feel to be strapped against a Punishment Frame, absolutely naked and vulnerable to anything that was to be done to her. She felt the arousal tinge again and could feel her face flushing. She had always liked a bit of light bondage in her sex life. Her mind has jumped straight to the things she could do to, and indeed for Rosie if they had some time to themselves in this room.

Checking her wristwatch, it was just after a quarter to six, Stacey didn't have to wait long for a door off the side to open. A line of people was coming through. Stacey gasped audibly as she realised the naked woman at the front was Rosie. She had a guard walking beside her. Her large breasts were bulging out from tight bindings around each one. Her hands were behind her and what was the worst bit, at least for Rosie, was the tight belt cinched into the soft flesh making her chubby belly push out.

Stacey could see her searching the audience for her and she waved, but even though Rosie looked right at her, she kept looking. Stacey realised that the bright lights was stopping her friend seeing her.

The female guard who was escorting Rosie, pushed her forwards, gently but firmly, and the two carried on leading the miserable procession. Stacey watched as Rosie was taken up to the furthest frame from the door, but the closest to her own seat.

By design, the three women all arrived at their Punishment Frames at roughly the same moment. Rosie ended up with her back to the audience, her hands cuffed behind her with silver-coloured police style handcuffs which shined brightly in the studio lighting of the Punishment Room. Stacey admired her friend, her butt cheeks were in full display to the audience, beautifully curvy, her wrists restrained in the small of her back.

Soon though, her handcuffs were off and in the short moment of freedom, she tenderly felt her breasts. Stacey assumed this was the first time she had felt them with the tie on. She subconsciously cupped her hands over her own chest, protectively. She was vaguely aware of the other two women going through similar with their guards, but her focus was on Rosie.

She was pushed back against the frame, the guard being gentle but firm. It was obvious from watching, that even without using any of the equipment on her belt, the tall guard would have absolutely no problem controlling Rosie if it became necessary.

Extremely quickly and efficiently, the guard had Rosie restrained to the frame by one of the straps which had moments before been dangling freely. It had ended up just below her tied breasts and Stacey wondered if that was by design. The guard working on getting thick leather cuffs onto Rosie's wrists and before long her hands had been pulled up and over her head, and she was totally exposed to the audience.

The group of boys at the other end of the row were appreciating the blonde woman at her frame and weren't paying too much attention to Rosie to Stacey's relief. She had a look around at the other members of the audience all of whom were watching the three women below going through their own restraint procedures. She wondered again, what motivated people to come along to these things. It was obvious that the nudity and the caning would be attractive and indeed, she was feeling horny herself, but, sat here with the rest of the public, there wasn't much she could do about it, even if she wanted to.

She turned her attention back to Rosie, who now had her legs spread wide and strapped to the frame and the guard had her back to Stacey doing something near to her crotch that Stacey couldn't see. She got to her feet and waved waiting for Rosie to look up and see her. She could feel eyes on her from people in the audience, but she didn't care. Before long, Rosie smiled and Stacey couldn't help herself smiling, her friend now knowing she was there for her.

The guard stepped away from the frame and a large digital clock appeared with 59:59 and it began counting down.

Rosie was almost unable to move, her legs spread unnaturally wide, and her arms stretched up above her head. It looked unbearably uncomfortable, even without the issue of the breast tie and the tight straps digging into her slightly heavy body. Her breasts looked so tight, and Stacey was sure that it must hurt, but an image of pushing her face into the cleavage flashed through her mind and she imagined how soft the flesh must feel under the pressure from the binding.

Her attention was snapped away as she heard a loud crack followed by a scream. The blonde woman who had been strapped to the whipping frame had received her first stroke. Everyone in the room, including the other two prisoners looked over to her. The woman had her back to the audience. A female unformed officer, her hair up in a tight bun, was holding a long leather whip in her hand as she waited to place the second stroke. The prisoner had got control of her breathing again and was holding her breath, that was clear. She couldn't hold it forever of course, and as soon as she exhaled, the second stroke landed, right between her shoulder blades.

Stacey was entranced already by the beauty of the woman writhing under the whip to the extent of her restraints. She wasn't crying exactly, but she was making an almost whimpering sound. Stacey watched in fascination as the officer raised her arm again, in preparation for the third strike, a movement that the victim couldn't see and so wouldn't be ready for what was about to happen. The two strokes that had already landed were a deep vivid red already, in stark contrast to the pale skin of her back. Her shoulder blades and muscles were made prominent by the position of her arms and Stacey could only look on, despite her desire to go over to the woman, to see closer detail for herself, this was so hot. She now understood why people come to see these punishment sessions!

X X X

Rosie could see the clock. It was deliberately obvious to her, and she was extremely unhappy about how slowly it was counting downwards. Her wrists were hurting already from the straps around them, and her arms being pulled up into such an unnatural position. She could feel her face burning from the embarrassment of her nudity, although this was much better than what she had had to do while being prepared for punishment in the other room. She had never been so humiliated in her life.

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