Short Stay Prison 01

Ciara was absurdly conscious of what her breasts and belly must look like in the position she was forced into. There was nothing to the frame between her wrists and waist meaning that her breasts were hanging freely and she could feel the air around her nipples. She couldn't see, but could imagine her modest belly hanging down between the bars of the frame.

She could feel her face colour at the thought, which she reflected was somewhat ludicrous given her overall situation.

She was facing the witnesses but her face was naturally facing the floor which she was happy about.

The officers had yet another, final humiliation for the 42 year old mother of two. She felt a cold liquid between her butt cheeks and pressure against her anus.

A noise escaped the throat that was almost inhuman.

"Relax Ciara," the officer said, "this is to help you not clench your buttocks, which I promise you, you will be grateful of. Just let it slide in."

Ciara reflected that that was easier said than done, but she closed her eyes and relaxed as best she could. This wouldn't be the first time something has been up there, but this time was considerably less fun.

Without much further drama, the object pushed past her sphincter a sat snugly in place. Ciara felt full and experimented. As soon as she clenched her cheeks, a sharp stabbing pain caught her along her anal cleft. The device was sitting in her anus to anchor it, and was made up of two rows of sharp metal spikes which now sat in between her cheeks. When she clenched, the cheeks pushed onto the spikes, strongly discouraging such a move.

The first officer stood near to her and faced the witnesses.

"Good morning. I am officer Starr. I am the designated punishment officer for today's sessions. I will be delivering the punishments. This is Ciara Murphy, she is 42 years of age has been sentenced to receive 18 strokes of the cane today as part of her sentence for Health and Safety Breaches causing injury."

She turned to Ciara and said quietly "ok. I need to read out the warrant of corporal punishment. Hang on in there, you'll be all done soon." Ciara almost laughed despite the situation. Hang on in there? It wasn't as if she could go anywhere!

"Ciara Murphy," the officer started in a loud voice so that everyone could hear. "Pursuant to Section 37a of the Criminal and Civil Justice Act (2018) and The Corporal Punishment (Summary Justice) Regulations (2019), you have been duly sentenced to corporal punishment in the form of 18 strokes of the number three cane to the naked buttocks in the manner prescribed by the relevant Secretary of State. This warrant will now be executed in this place by order of the Greater West Magistrates Court. Do you have anything to say before your sentence is carried out?"

Ciara summoned all her courage to make her voice sound as confident as possible, "No ma'am," she said in a loud voice.

"Prepare yourself then. I will now commence the punishment. My colleague will count the strokes."

Ciara held her breath, closed her eyes and gripped the handles until get knuckles were white. Instinctively, she clenched her butt cheeks in readiness for the onslaught, but the spikes reminded her of the error of her ways.

She waited. Nothing happened. She opened her eyes again and released her breath when she heard it. A whoosh which was unmistakably a cane whipping through the air, and then she heard a crack. She wondered who had been caned because there wasn't. . . .

. . . Ciara screamed a scream that she would swear wasn't her own. The searing pain across her bum was like nothing she'd ever felt. She lept up as far as her restraints would allow, which was basically nothing. It allowed her breasts to wobble as they hung below her, but other than that, she was restrained tightly.

"One" the second officer called impassively.

The first officer with the cane took a step closer to Ciara to assess her handiwork and was satisfied to see a perfectly delivered stroke, parallel to the leather strap holding the older woman in position. She took in the rest of the buttocks in front of her and chose the next spot. She had decided to aim for a large freckle which was on the woman's left buttock just above the crease of her thighs.

She kept an eye on the wall clock and when 30 seconds had passed since the first, she drew her arm back and delivered the second blow. The women on the frame wailed again and the whole frame moved slightly on the floor as she bucked against her restraints. Officer Starr was pleased with herself when she noticed that the white line that was appearing and turning red before her eyes had hit bang on the freckle she had aimed at.

Ciara heard the officer call "Two" and was able to gather herself a bit. It hurt like hell, but she could do this. She wasn't going to let this younger woman get the better of her. She decided that was what was going to get her through this.

She lifted her head to survey the crowd. She let her eyes pass over all the clothed people to the naked prisoners. She was looking for Sarah, or any of the other girls she recognised.

The officer struck again and another searing pain exploded in her mind. She couldn't help but buck against her restraints, but she felt she had a better control now.

She looked back and found the prisoners. She realised they were all in shackles like the old chain gangs. Wrists and belly chains on each one. She found Sarah, third from the end.. ..

Whack! Another stroke hit and again she thrust forward against the frame and her restraints, but this time rather than a scream, she managed to control it a bit, a deep grunt escaped her mouth instead.

She found Sarah again and saw she was watching. A look of horror on her face. Ciara tried to force a smile to the girl who smiled back.

That little bit of a friendly face lifted Ciara spirits. She was determined not to be beaten by this.

Officer Starr was quite happy with how this caning was progressing. She hadn't been qualified all that long and this was probably only her fifth or sixth session without supervision.

The older women in front of her had a nice plump arse which was simply inviting the cane and taking each stroke really well. She had created herself her top and bottom margins within the first couple of strokes as the training manual demanded. The top being at the top of the buttocks an inch or so below the restraint strap. The bottom margin stroke for a sentence of 18 strokes was required to be approximately one third down the thigh. She was happy with the placement, but a little disappointed that it wasn't quite straight across the thighs.

Watching the clock, she raised the cane again. She watched the assembled crowd it the corner of her eye, waiting for the attention to be on the cane, before bringing it crashing down exactly half way between the markers.

Murphy grunted again rather than screamed. A reaction that interested Starr. Her junior colleague announced "five".

This was Starr's first caning this week and she had to admit it felt good. Not through any perverse pleasure, but of a professional delivering her crest craft well. Whipping was fine, but didn't require the precision which a caning demanded, at least to satisfy the professional pride and good natured competition between the punishment officers.

She watched the clock. Ten seconds to go. Where next. She went for one of her favourite spots -- right on the crease between the thigh and the buttock.

That got Murphy's attention. That was definitely a scream. The whole frame inched forward again and Starr could see her clench her butt cheeks tight before the spikes did their job again.

"Six" her colleague shouted above the cry of the prisoner.

Starr could see the angry red welts developing from the earlier strokes. The woman's arse was going to bruise beautifully.

Ciara heard the count. She had made it to six. One third done. That last one was vicious, but this was ok. She was going to survive this. She kept eye contact with Sarah as much as she could. She was dutifully ignoring the other people there who were obviously chiefly there to see naked women caned as apposed to a greater good reason.

She was struck again. She managed to keep it to a grunt again, but she was beginning to lose definition of where she was being hit. It just all hurt.

Starr could see red marks developing around the restraint strap over Murphy's back. She was clearly managing some level of movement to allow the strap to move and cause the mark. On reflection, perhaps she had done that a bit tight, but the slightly overweight body had appealed to her. She'd given it a good tug to create a depression in the flesh.

She raised the cane and struck again. The woman bucked in her restraints. Starr observed her hands, she was gripping and ungripping the handle repeatedly and she had her teeth clenched to, Starr assumed, prevent the scream escaping.

Murphy was beginning to sweat. A sheen of sweat was appearing at the base of her back. This was not uncommon for a caning and was to be expected according to the manual.

Ciara was coping. There was clearly a rythm and she had gotten herself into it. Her mouth was dry and her skin was damp. She could feel a rivulet of sweat formed and it was running down from her armpit and was now at the base of her dangling breast.

She hung her head again. She could she down between her breasts to the flesh of her belly and to her widely spread thighs. She couldn't see her pussy because of her belly, but she knew she was exposed. It was humiliating, but weirdly exhilarating. This officer and this place were doing their best to break her. Sure it was hurting like hell, and sure she'd rather be pretty much anywhere else, but she was coping. She was going to be fine and she wasn't even crying.

Officer Starr saw the change in body language of her prisoner. There weren't many signs, largely because she was so well restrained, but her head raised slightly and some of her muscles tensed. Clearly, the officer wasn't aware of Ciara's internal thoughts, but something had changed in the last minute or so.

Starr raised the cane again. She aimed again for the sweet spot of between the buttocks and the thighs. She delivered a perfect stroke. Ideal speed and force, placed perfectly. There was almost no reaction from the prisoner. There was a slight grunt and her hands gripped the handles once and then relaxed again.

"Twelve" called her colleague

The young officer was very interested by this. Often the reactions went the other way, starting smaller and ending up in screaming and crying. She assessed her work. There were 12 clear lines across the woman's plump buttocks and thighs. They were evenly spaced, except for the two she'd deliberately placed at the crease at the base of her butt. The sheen of sweat was clearly visible now and there were red marks around all of the straps holding the woman down. But she'd lifted her head, staring into the witnesses. And she was keeping it there

Starr struck again. Early in the cycle this time, maybe about 20 seconds rather than 30. The woman grunted and moved slightly against her straps, but kept looking at the observers. She didn't hang her head or grip the handles. Starr had expected to catch the woman off guard.

The young officer knew she was now being unprofessional, but she was determined to get another scream from her older prisoner in the remaining 5 strokes. She adjusted her stance and shook her shoulders out. A wisp of hair fell over her face, which she quickly tucked behind her ear using the hand without the cane in it. She took a deep breath and looked at the audience, some of whom were watching her, but most of whom had their eyes fixed on the prisoner, strapped down tightly to the punishment frame.

The woman's butt cheeks were heating up, that was obvious. The earlier lines Officer Starr had placed had developed into a deep red colour and most had welts raised up from the plump skin. Depending on your stance, it was a total mess - a tangle of bruises and welts, or a work of art that the professionals in the officer staff should be proud of.

Officer Starr planned to change that in a minute. The final 3 strokes would certainly leave an impression.

For now though, she was going to stick to procedure. She raised her cane and brought it down as hard as she could, parallel to the other lines on the bottom and thighs.

She grunted louder this time, and her breathing became very rapid for 10 seconds or so, the younger officer watched the skin around the restraints pull tight.

"thirteen" the second officer called out.

Ciara struggled with that one. She was pretty sure that was harder than the rest. She was aware that she only had a few strokes to go and this spurred her on. This was horrible and tough, but she knew she could do it. She was determined and she'd set her mind to it. She looked at Sarah who was still looking at her and smiling encouragingly.

Officer Starr's plan was for the next two in quick succession. This wasn't against the rules, or even procedure, technically at least. It wasn't the way it was normally done at this prison, but she was within her rights as the punishment officer to be the decision maker, within the law.

She tested her cane position gently against the woman's skin. The prisoner visibly jumped, but on realising it wasn't a stroke she relaxed again.

Officer Starr glanced at her colleague who was watching her. It was a meaningful look, but she didn't think her colleague understood.

She pulled the cane back and struck the fourteenth stroke of the sentence of eighteen.

As the prisoner bucked against the straps and grunted as was becoming the norm, Starr quickly reversed her arm back to the position and struck again.

The crack of the cane interrupted her colleague who was half way through announcing the fourteenth. She looked at officer Starr in surprise, hesitating for a fraction of a second, but recovered quickly.

"Fourteen and fifteen" she declared, in a deadpan voice that didn't betray her surprise at the unplanned change in procedure. She looked at Starr and Starr immediately regretted that decision. She had compromised the professionalism of the prison staff. She glanced at the audience. It was clear non of them cared. They were mostly transfixed watching the prisoner who was shifting uncomfortably.

There hadn't been a scream, but she was still struggling against the straps.

Ciara was caught totally by surprise by the change in tempo. It had taken her breath away and she was panicking a bit. She'd lost her confidence now that it was unpredictable. She knew she had three strokes to go. She thought if all three went quick, it would hurt so so much, but at least it would be over.

She had no such luck. The wait for the next stroke was excruciating. She had a huge desire to tense every muscle in her body, but knew she couldn't because of the spikes in her butt crack.

Starr was about to go completely off normal operation, but this wouldn't be known by anyone but her and the prisoner. At least until the older women was put on display.

She adjusted her stance slightly. The cane would land at a different angle and was going to go across the parallel lines of the previous 15 strokes. This was technically against the procedure manual, but not the law. It wasn't illegal. It might raise an eyebrow or two with her colleagues, but it wasn't going to get her into trouble. She hoped.

She brought the cane down diagonally and smiled inwardly as the woman let out that much sought after scream. It was loud and it was guttural. She fought the restraints violently. That had clearly made an impression on the woman.

"Sixteen" was called by the officer, who looked at her younger but senior colleague quizzically, but didn't say anything.

Ciara had lost capacity for logical thought. She had found a new level of pain that she couldn't have imagined existed. She managed, eventually to get herself under control, but only just before the next stroke came.

She couldn't stop the scream, but she did manage to control her reaction somewhat. No pointless fighting this time. She decided she was probably happy with that.

"Seventeen. Final stroke next!" the officer declared.

Ciara looked at Sarah, who mouthed something to her, but she couldn't tell what.

The next stroke came. The final stroke. It made contact with the crisp sound that could only come from cane on flesh.

"Eighteen. Punishment complete," declared the officer.

Ciara had managed to get back to the grunt rather than the scream. She was counting that as a victory and she was smug about it. She smiled to herself and glanced at Sarah, who looked thoroughly confused. That made Ciara laugh out loud despite her tears. A single laugh that probably sounded like a cough. Certainly, not many people seemed to notice.

Officer Starr stepped forward, still holding the cane. "Ladies and gentlemen, that completes the corporal punishment order issued by the court. For anyone who is interested, Prisoner Murphy will now be transferred to display for the next 2 hours. She will be available for viewing in a few minutes in area 3. The next prisoner is Henderson who is sentenced to twenty strokes. That punishment will commence in twenty minutes from now.

"Thank you for your kind attention and, if you are not staying, thank you for coming and on behalf of myself and the staff, we hope you have a safe journey."

The second officer moved over to the frame where Ciara was restrained. She produced a pair of handcuffs and locked one around Ciara's wrist, then unstrapped her arm. She used the handcuff to pull that wrist to the one still restrained, cuffed Ciara's wrists together and then released both arms from the frame.

Next, Officer Starr placed one hand on the base of Ciara's back and unceremoniously removed the butt plug, dropping it into a container provided by her colleague.

Ciara gasped, but still being restrained by legs and at the waist, had little option to do anything about it.

"Ok," Starr said to the prisoner, "your legs will be released first and then your waist. It is important that you do not move until instructed. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am" she replied.

The leg restraints were ok although, without trying to move them, Ciara understood that her muscles were cramped from the extreme position and realised that standing up wasn't going to be a walk in the park.

She also suddenly realised that with her hands cuffed in front, they had even robbed her of the chance to comfort her damaged, tortured skin. Another petty cruelty that made the short stay prisons so effective.

The removal of the waist belt hurt like hell. The pain was completely unexpected by Ciara and she yelped. Once the blood returned though, the pain eased.

"My colleague and I are going to assist you to stand. Be ready on my command." Ciara felt hands grip both her upper arms, "Ok. Stand," Starr said.

The two officers helped Ciara to stand. Her muscles cried out, but she was able to keep her feet herself.

They turned her and marched her towards the door. Looking at the threesome from behind, allowed the audience their first proper look at the results of the caning. There were a few gasps as they walked towards the door.

They pushed her through the door and down the corridor to one of the many display areas.

Ciara saw the pillory and immediately knew where her home was about to be for the next two hours.

Sure enough, that's where she was taken. The officers made sure she never had an opportunity to touch her bottom as she was bent forward at ninety degrees and locked into position.

They left her there without another word. Her bottom was on fire, her belly and her boobs were hanging down which was basically her worst case bondage scenario.