The Jailhouse Blues Ch. 02

But then there was no time to dwell upon that either.

As, five seconds after prison officer Bella Donna's first kick to my testicles, the prison officer standing directly behind me, in Caning Position No. 1, delivered her first cane stroke. Whoo!... Crack!

And again I used up energy I could not spare. Spent indisposable energy, in raising my head, and emitting my agonised cry at the white-hot explosion of pain as the prison officer's whippy cane struck my right buttock dead-centre.

"Ha ha ha ha!" I heard the familiar voice. "Great shot, Nat!" exclaimed prison officer Melanie appreciatively. "Me next!" she enthused.

So that had been prison officer Natalie then, in Caning Position No. 1 - letting me have it! And prison officer Melanie, in Caning Position No. 2, was going to let me have it next!

Now my mind was sending my body that urgent directive again: Escape!

I was frantic.

I strained desperately at the black plastic cable-tie binds at my wrists and ankles. But, soon realising the utter futility of my struggle, my panicked efforts were very short-lived. Desperation quickly turned to despair, upon recognising the zero per cent chance of escape, and accepting the ineluctable fact that I could not possibly disembark from the Wheel of Chastisement.

Because of course, it was impossible. Prison officers Bella Donna, Billie Jo, Cassandra and Victoria had cable-tied me up good... I wasn't going anywhere.

And before I knew it, I was caned again.

Five seconds after prison officer Natalie's initial, getting-the-ball-rolling cane stroke, came the very audible Whoo! and Crack! of the second: prison officer Melanie's.

The first of prison officer Melanie's five allotted cane strokes struck my left buttock, just at the point where the buttock meets the top of the thigh. The pain was unbelievable. Unbelievable, as prison officer Melanie expertly inflicted an anguish that I simply couldn't come to terms with.

The wail of agonised anguishment I emitted had to be heard to be believed. It was enough to cause the hair on the average person's neck to stand on end.

But the female prison officers of Greystone Prison are not average people.

They responded to the evidences of my great distress, by laughing, chuckling, tittering and giggling. By loudly cheering and admiringly applauding. By whooping and whistling. By high-fiving. By leering, sneering and jeering. By congratulating their cane-wielding prison officer colleagues, in recognition and appreciation of their expertise in inflicting upon me such hideous misery.

And this was just the start.

Just the start, of my 'therapeutic treatment'.

Prison officers Natalie and Melanie's first cane strokes, were just the first two in this, the first round of twelve prison officers' cane strokes... The first, of the Wheel of Chastisement's five, one-minute rotations.

As the Wheel of Chastisement turned around, and I turned around with it, the next ten prison officers of the caning-party, I knew, would also be lining up their 'therapeutic' cane strokes... and they would let me have it, too.

Whoo! and Crack! Every five seconds.

Barely registering the devastating impact of one cane stroke, upon my fully exposed bare bottom... and the next one was already homing in.

The pain of prison officers Natalie and Melanie's cane strokes - one to each buttock, was incredible.

But I'd known I was only another five seconds away from receiving the next one, administered by the prison officer awaiting my bare bottom's arrival, in Caning Position No. 3... Where would this next cane stroke land?

I'd had no idea who she was. I didn't know yet, what her name was, or— Whoo!... Crack!

"Oh, Bravo, Fiona! Well done!" cried prison officer Melanie in enthusiastic, wholehearted congratulation - while I screamed for all I was worth, upon prison officer Fiona's first cane stroke striking dead-centre, hitting both buttocks at once.

But things were about to get even worse.

As the Wheel of Chastisement entered the second and third 90-degree quadrants of its revolution, my bare bottom would thus be presented, I knew, to the cane-wielding prison officers in prison officer Bella Donna's semicircle - my escort party: prison officers Billie Jo, Victoria, Bella Donna, Cassandra, Louise and Cora.

As my bare bottom was duly presented to prison officer Billie Jo in Caning Position No. 4, I heard her say, in malicious glee, "Now, he's for it..." Whoo!... Crack!

I couldn't believe it - couldn't bear it - as the pain of prison officer Billie Jo's first cane stroke easily eclipsed the three that had preceded it.

This time I couldn't yell out; could barely make a sound, for such was the incredible, white-hot intensity of my agony. Instead I emitted a high, thin keening; the slight sound so high-pitched, that I doubted any of the prison officers could hear it over the bedlam of their raucous cheering and applauding, and of their many other vociferous sentiments of wholehearted approval and appreciation of their colleague's caning skills. But then they didn't need to hear it: with my mouth wide open almost to the point of jaw dislocation, my near-silent scream was nonetheless quite evident to them.

"Ooh, BJ, that was epic!" gushed prison officer Victoria appreciatively, in Caning Position No. 5. "Your red stripe is much redder than the other three red stripes! Gosh! There really is an art to caning, isn't there?" she marvelled.

Prison officer Billie Jo spoke quickly, urgently. "You've not got long, Vicky - you can congratulate me later. If you want to hurt prisoner Lightwood bad, cane him in exactly the same place I just did: aim for my red stripe!"

"Okay, BJ..." Whoo!... Crack!

The pain was mind-numbing.

Mind-numbing, as the too-lovely-for-words prison officer Victoria's cane stroke landed right on target: right on top of prison officer Billie Jo's hit.

This time, it was impossible not to give expression to my anguish. "Aaahhh yayaya!" I wailed. "Aaahhh yayaya! Aaahhh yayaya!"

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" laughed prison officer Billie Jo. "That was beautiful, Vicky! I said you was a natural, didn't I?"

In the glow of prison officer Billie Jo's praise, prison officer Victoria cooed, "Mmmm... that felt so, so good. I really, really hurt prisoner Lightwood, didn't I, BJ?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" laughed prison officer Billie Jo in great merriment. "Yes, Vicky, you did - I think we can safely say that! And just think: there's still another four Rounds to go!"

But then a second later I was in a whole new world of pain, as prison officer Bella Donna, in Caning Position No. 6, administered her first 'therapeutic' cane stroke to my bare bottom just as expertly as she'd administered her first 'therapeutic' kick to my fully exposed testicles. Using her first cane stroke to overlap those of prison officers Billie Jo and Victoria, she caused me to emit such a shriek as would surely have shattered the gymnasium's windows had it had any.

"Ha ha ha ha!" laughed prison officer Billie Jo delightedly. "Bel, that was an absolute peach!"

"This is such fun!" exclaimed the beyond beautiful prison officer Victoria.

From the proximity of their voices, I could tell that prison officers Billie Jo, Victoria and Bella Donna were now standing closely grouped together as they laughed.

They stood closely grouped together and laughed as, three more times, at five-second intervals, the other three members of my escort party, prison officers Cassandra, Louise and Cora in Caning Positions 7, 8 and 9 respectively, demonstrated that they, too, were not exactly lacking in prison officer Billie Jo's espoused idea of natural ability, as they all used the first of their five allotted cane strokes in overlapping, too.

As the Wheel of Chastisement had rotated into the last quadrant of its 360-degree revolution, not wanting to be outdone, the three remaining prison officers, in Caning Positions 10, 11 and 12, really let me have it with their canes, too.

Upon hearing each of the first of their five allotted cane strokes being lauded and applauded by their cane-happy colleagues, I thus learned the identities of these last three harbingers of utter wretchedness. The last three merciless assailants were prison officers Teresa (Caning Position No. 10), Susanne (No. 11), and Katie (No. 12).

Now, at long last (though it had only been sixty seconds!), I had completed the full 360-degree circuit for the first time... And I was back face to face with prison officer Bella Donna.

The Wheel of Chastisement jolted to a stop.

And that woman of quality and refinement, the highly charismatic Governor Meredith Monroe, walked right up to me and said, "So, prisoner Lightwood... is your mind beginning to clear of irrational thought? Are you beginning to see reason? Are you beginning to see the errors of your ways yet? Are you starting to think straight - think coherently and logically?"

"Yes, Governor. I'm beginning to... think straight. Can we... can we stop now, please?"

"Stop? Now? No, prisoner Lightwood, we can't stop!" said the Governor. "Not yet. You've only gone one Round. This isn't something you can do by halves. It's just like antibiotics: for the therapy to work effectively, the full course of treatment must be administered. For you to have a ninety-nine per cent chance of being cured of your improprieties, where females are concerned, you must go the full five Rounds. It's the only way. You've still got a lot of irrational thought to be expunged from your mind. You've still got more reason, to see. You've still got a long way to go, yet, before you'll be able to think straight - think coherently and logically."

"But, Governor—"

"Okay then, officers. Here we go, with Round Two," said Governor Meredith Monroe, her finger ready on the Wheel of Chastisement's Start button. "Round Two, starting from... Now!" she announced loudly... and prison officer Bella Donna kicked me in the balls again.

And again, such was my catastrophically debilitating agony upon prison officer Bella Donna's left foot, this time, streaking unerringly forwards and upwards between my widely-spread-apart legs, that for the second time I found my whole body weight sagging helplessly down from my cable-tie wrist restraints.

"Speak out of turn to me, will you, prisoner Lightwood?" said prison officer Bella Donna by way of a 'Have a good trip!' as I began my second 360-degree journey aboard the Wheel of Chastisement.

A split-second later I heard the Whoo! and felt the Crack! of prison officer Natalie's second cane stroke, from Caning Position No. 1. Followed, five seconds later, by the Whoo! and Crack! of prison officer Melanie's second cane stroke... and then the Whoo! and Crack! of prison officer Fiona's...

When Governor Meredith Monroe announced the start of Round 3, prison officer Bella Donna, with another smooth as silk, poetry-in-motion delivery promptly kicked me in the balls again.

"Be noncompliant with me, will you, prisoner Lightwood?" she said by way of a 'See you later!' as I set off on the Wheel of Chastisement on my third round-trip.

By the end of Round Three, I was delirious with pain. Terrorised with fear.

Pain: from the three expertly executed kicks to my testicles from the chastising bare feet of prison officer Bella Donna... And from the thirty-six lustily delivered cane strokes to my bare bottom: three cane strokes each, from the twelve female prison officers of the caning-party.

Fear: from knowing I was still yet to receive another twenty-four cane strokes to my already devastated bare buttocks - another two cane strokes each, from the twelve no-holding-back, utterly merciless female prison officers - bringing the final number of cane strokes to sixty... And another two 'therapeutic' barefoot kicks right between my widely-spread-apart legs, administered by prison officer Bella Donna... Not forgetting the "little something extra" she'd promised me, with her fifth and final kick to my fully exposed testicles, for trying to expose her malevolent designs to the Governor.

Yes. I was delirious with pain. Terrorised with fear.

But now, I was starting to see the errors of my ways. Irrational thought was being expunged from my mind. My head was becoming all nice and clear. I was starting to see reason. I was starting to think straight - think coherently and logically.

The 'therapeutic treatment' was starting to work.

When the Governor brightly announced the start of Round 4, prison officer Bella Donna duly kicked me in the balls for the fourth time.

"Refuse to assume the position for Foot Service for me, will you, prisoner Lightwood?" she said by way of a 'Cheerio!' as I again sagged from my cable-tie wrist restraints like a dead weight as I embarked upon my fourth and penultimate round-trip aboard the Wheel of Chastisement.

And then, at long, long last... finally there was a glimpse of light, at the end of the long, dark tunnel: Round 5.

Prison officer Bella Donna stepped forward, and pitilessly looked up into my tear-streaked, pain-ravaged face. Lowering her voice to a whisper so that only I could hear her softly spoken words, she said, "You haven't forgotten, have you, prisoner Lightwood, about the little something extra I promised you for trying to grass me up to the Governor? My grand finale? It's coming right up..."

When prison officer Bella Donna had resumed her place in Caning Position No. 6, Governor Meredith Monroe said pleasantly, "All right then, officers. Prisoner Lightwood's correctional therapy course is now eighty per cent complete. So far, so good. By all appearances, he seems to be responding well to treatment. There's just one final Round to go. Just one final spoon of medicine, as it were."

Her finger on the Wheel of Chastisement's Start button, the Governor announced brightly, "Here we go then, with Round Five. And let's make this a good one - to be extra sure of prisoner Lightwood's cure! Get ready, officers. One last, one-minute Round. Starting, from... Now!" she announced loudly - and prison officer Bella Donna kicked me in the balls for the fifth and final time.

Ross had told me that the pain he'd experienced when he'd been Ball-Busted by prison officer Billie Jo, was "beyond imagining".

And now, I knew exactly what he meant.

Prison officer Bella Donna had told me, "If you think the first four, are bad..."

And now, I knew exactly what she meant!

Prison officer Bella Donna had promised me that her fifth and final kick - her "grand finale" - would have a "little something extra".

What an understatement!

Using her right foot for the third time (she'd administered her second and fourth kicks with her left foot), just like her first four kicks, the trajectory of prison officer Bella Donna's fifth and final delivery was lightening-fast and unerring.

But, where her fifth and final kick differed from her first four, was in the "little something extra" double-contact, flick-kick delivery.

Already wracked with pain and terrorised with dread, I'd fearfully watched prison officer Bella Donna make a show of slowly slipping her right, lightly suntanned foot from its prison officer issue pale-blue, thin-rubber soled flip flop. For tension-filled seconds prison officer Bella Donna looked at me, her lips curling in a cruel smile as she kept me waiting, lingeringly savouring the moment.

And then suddenly, in a blur of movement almost too quick for my eyes to track, prison officer Bella Donna's right foot was lost to my sight as her fast and fluid ball-kicking action once again somehow managed to catch me off guard, her right foot hurtling unerringly forwards and upwards between my widely-spread-apart legs on its collision course with my totally exposed and optimally accessible ball sac... Thunk! Thunk!

Yes. It was beyond imagining.

Beyond imagining, as the tops of the toes of prison officer Bella Donna's right foot further devastated my already sore and tender and now fast-swelling balls, with her expertly executed one-two, double-connection delivery.

Beyond imagining, as I saw stars in the unbelievably agonising aftermath of prison officer Bella Donna's expertly administered double flick-kick affliction.

Beyond imagining, as all of the other prison officers - both caning-party prison officers, playing active roles in the administration of my 'therapeutic treatment', and the avidly watching spectators - had applauded and cheered. Had whooped and whistled. Had laughed, giggled, tittered and chuckled. Had high-fived. Had leered, sneered and jeered. And had admiringly congratulated prison officer Bella Donna on her superlative ball-kicking prowess.

Beyond imagining, as Governor Meredith Monroe pressed the Start button for Round 5 and the Wheel of Chastisement jolted into clockwise motion again, taking me on my fifth and final one-minute 360-degree rotation, and prison officer Bella Donna said, by way of a 'Have a nice day!', "Say 'No' to me, will you, prisoner Lightwood?"

Beyond imagining, as, in the immediate aftermath of prison officer Bella Donna's Ball-Bust "grand finale" - her "little something extra" coup de grace - came the Whoo! and Crack! of the fifth and final cane stroke of prison officer Natalie, in Caning Position No. 1. And then, five seconds later, the fifth and final cane stroke of prison officer Melanie, in Caning Position No. 2. And then, five seconds later...

Dear reader,

with your leave, I would prefer not to dwell further upon those deeply disturbing Round 5 recollections. Memories that still pain me now, at the time of my memoir writings, fifty years later.

And I think that by now you will have got the general gist. That you will have grasped the essential nature of those dreadful proceedings, down in the prison officers' gymnasium.

The object of the exercise, of the Ball-Bust...

"Well, officers," said that lady of refinement and class, Governor Meredith Monroe. "If I'm any judge, by the looks of prisoner Lightwood these proceedings have been an unqualified success. Most satisfactory, indeed."

The assembled prison officers' responsive murmurings clearly indicated that they were all in total agreement with the Governor's post Ball-Bust assessment.

"Officers of the caning-party. I congratulate each and every one of you on your admirable performances today. I could not have asked for more, than the professionalism and expertise you have just demonstrated in acquitting your important clinical duties. Such energy! Such enthusiasm! Such drive! Splendid. Quite splendid. I am confident that the standard of cane-craft I have just had the very great pleasure of witnessing is of a level unequaled in any of our other institutes of correctional therapy. Usually, I would hesitate to single out any particular officer for individual praise. But on this occasion I think officer Bella Donna, the, er... star of the show, as it were, deserves a special mention. What a display! Such style! What panache! Rarely have I witnessed such sublime expertise, such supreme skill in this gymnasium, as her personalised performance has graced it with today. Such a classy, elegant exhibition of ball-kicking bravura."

Again, the assembled prison officers' sentiments were clearly in agreement with those of the Governor.

"All that remains now," that lady of quality went on, "is for prisoner Lightwood to be presented to officer Bella Donna. Officer Billie Jo, would you and the other members of your escort party please take prisoner Lightwood down from the Wheel of Chastisement, and present him to officer Bella Donna?"

"Yes, ma'am," said prison officer Billie Jo. And together she and prison officers Victoria, Cassandra, Louise and Cora approached me to do the Governor's bidding.

"Take care, officer Billie Jo," advised the Governor. "Immediately post-therapy, he's likely to be a little bit wobbly, still."