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Judicial Spanking

by Jackie Rabbit

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© Copyright 2018 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; FM+/f; cell; cuffs; punish; public; shackles; display; spank; hum; pain; offer; show; contract; F+/f; force; naked; cons/reluct; X

story continues from part one

Part 2: The Jailbreak

In the morning the sheriff and the town's mayor visited me in my cell, I having been provided a course wool blanket that I had kicked off after I discovered it's rough texture and my abused backside didn't get along well. The ferocity of my punishment made me feel quite warm anyway, like a sunburn, and I slept on my belly to try to find the maximum comfort all things considered. The sheriff had let me shower off in the jail's open shower stall before putting me up for the night in my cell, and it was there that I removed the sadistic but wonderful little balls that I had been given as a consolation prize by my one time professor and temporary executioner.

She had enjoyed herself at my expense for a second time, but all things considered I couldn't blame her, she providing for me in a rather compassionate way that she just plain didn't have to. I also realized that she and some of the various department heads had likely wanted to find a way to remove me from their rolls so that a serious student could occupy my seat instead.

To many of my professors their job was just a job, (not that I had any experience with which to relate), but the rare few of them were quite passionate about their professions. I of course had eventually found two of those, the old fool of a political science professor who engineered my demise, and my other skilled and sadistic professor with her strap.

It was no chance occurrence that he and my professor/executioner were in the same little tourist town as I, nor was it that my political science professor and his peers had brought some of their most favorite class pets with them to watch me potentially fail my extra credit and wash myself out of school for them. I doubt they came expecting to see me chained to the towns elevated whipping post, or then stripped and whipped before a crowd for their erotic amusement, but the simple truth of the matter was that they did. The second simple truth was that not one of them did a thing to save me from the spectacle I was forced to provide either, such speaking more about their character than mine, or perhaps more to their true motivations.

 Perhaps they just expected to critique my protest somewhat innocently, (or learn a lesson of their own about crossing ones professors needlessly), but there was no way for them to unsee what they just had. Either way, (I thought to myself), they likely went back to their comfortable air conditioned rooms in the nice part of town and got themselves off reliving the entertainment vicariously I had been forced to provide them, just as many of the other spectators likely did with their significant others who thought I was part of the show.

No matter what event my stateside peers came to see, the one they did guaranteed I couldn't go back to academia ever again, my free ride at the taxpayers expense sadly over. I hadn't noticed it at the time as I was rather preoccupied, but I wondered in horror now about how many of them thought to video my torment. Everybody in that crowd who knew me had the latest smart phones, and I wondered if I was a viral internet sensation yet, or for that matter if their cameras resolution caught what I really got from my experience at the hands of my worldly tormentor...    

The mayor looked at my backside as I lay on my cot and came to the same conclusion that the sheriff and several others had the night before, my punishment was far more real than it was supposed to be, although not quite as real as it could have been thanks to my former professor's charity, and her obvious skill and experience with a strap. If he had been thinking to compliment me on my acting abilities he may have thought to reconsider that after looking at the obvious collateral damage to my bare flesh, but there was no real long term physical injury done to me in the big scheme of things. My arms and legs were stiff as well, but I suspected as much from being stretched out in my unusual display on the whipping post as from the powerful orgasms that had every muscle in my body clenched and struggling against the other, as well as against my firm bindings.

The real damage was the humility forced upon me, and that I couldn't go back home, home being an extended pardon from the working world at the university while living on my endless monthly stipend. I was almost thirty and had never had a job, and the thought of having to find some convenience store clerkship that I might not even qualify for seemed terrifying to me, not to mention if my peers and dedicated professors found out.

Would my former friends add to my humility and visit every morning for their coffee while on their way to what had once been my home? And then what if a customer noticed that I bore a striking resemblance to the subject of a viral video from south of the border, with a little not so innocent help from my former classmates just to ensure my fate were properly and truly sealed from their perspective? I was at the very least just an anonymous torture porn actress to the unknowing, (other than obviously with my classmates who were there to see the show live for themselves), but with their help and my convenience store name tag identifying me as Paige Turner, everybody who had a desire to would be able to watch my ordeal over and over again and put a name to it...

"I should wish to offer you a position here with us, if your interested Ms. Turner?" the mayor asked. "You have spiced up our little show here, quite by accident at first, but there is no denying your impact on our guest's experience once we found a way to properly capitalize on your mischief. It was also obvious to those who were closer to the platform that your ordeal at the hands of the secret masked executioner was likely no personal hardship, despite the marks about your backside contradicting this."

That comment was delivered with a big toothy smile by the wise and opportunistic mayor, and I felt myself blushing with the revelation that he likely knew what I had truly gotten from the experience.

"So that you know your position with us here won't get boring for either you, or our guests, our town's matriarch, Mrs. M, has some ideas for ways we can utilize your mischief here. She finds your sassy disregard for our laws and customs rather amusing by the way, and she has it in mind to generate several possible skit scenarios for you to be used in. Your a natural performer by the way, in case you hadn't realized this about yourself."

"I thought she hated me?" I asked, surprised by the direction of things, and skipping over the natural performer part.

"Oh, not at all, she finds you a challenge, and a potential revenue stream obviously. To make this situation attractive to you as well she has authorized me to offer you a generous wage, as well as a percentage of the premium ticket sales for the adult parts of the shows you would find yourself participating in."

"How much would that have been for yesterdays... ah show?" I asked while channeling an economics class I had once attended.

The mayor and the sheriff looked at each other rather taken aback by my question, but the mayor answered none the less. 

"About five hundred and fifty, give or take. We didn't count out your gratuities from yesterday's performance though, so this is a best guess estimate."

I wondered how it could be so much, but I took their word for it. I suspected if I worked every waking hour as a clerk at minimum wage and then removed the taxes and student loan payments I would have less at the end of the week than a single day of "work" here. Not that I could survive being strung up and whipped every day, but the mayor had already alluded to the fact that it wouldn't be the same thing over and over again.

"It appears that I have little choice but to accept your generous offer sir" I told the mayor.

"There is of course a catch Ms. Turner. Mrs. M will have to invest in some marketing for our new shows, and for both her and our town to make such a commitment we will need one from you in return. You have after all a history of not finishing that which you have committed to in the past, to put it delicately, or so I have been told by several reliable sources."

"What did you have in mind sir?" I asked, seeing the logic of his position, and that of the towns financier Mrs. M. I also realized from his comment that these men probably had a rather long talk with my professors, and possibly a hand of influence from several of them could be seen in the mayor's offer. One could either deduce that they wished for my torment to continue for some period of time until I learned some kind of lesson while trapped here and far away from them, or that they thought this form of enforced servitude with it's complimentary public corporal punishments was more within my skill set.

"In exchange for the ability to earn such a handsome sum here with us, Mrs. M is looking for you to commit for a full year plus the rest of this season, to start."

"And I suppose if I try to leave early I might find myself back in this jail cell for some real crime, and waiting to see a real judge, and then receive a real sentence to someplace bad?"

"If such thoughts will help to keep you properly motivated. Yes. Our federal prison system is not known for it's hospitality by the way. If you agree you will become the defacto property of our little tourist town just like your cherished donkeys, consider it a 'binding' contract if you must," the mayor's last words delivered with a mischievous and knowing smile. "As we promised yesterday, you are free to leave now, but if you give us your word, and of course a signature on our employment contract outlining what we have discussed, you WILL honor your agreement with us one way of the other."

The thought of being a for real prisoner and compelled performer in this little town was turning me on like mad. Unlike just about everything else I had ever done, this I would be seeing through to it's conclusion one way or the other. No dropping classes and majors that were too hard, no changing of my mind, no real choices at all other than to accept or run away... to nothing. It was dangerously exciting, I already knowing my body craved the restraints, and the experience of the strap, and most certainly the forced exposure, and this all sounded like so much more fun than making change for cigarettes and gasoline back home while watching my peers excel.

"Sir, I don't know that I should be trusted to cooperate with your plans for an entire year, but I would like to sign your contract before I loose my courage..."

"Don't worry about that Paige" the mayor warned ominously. "Carrot and a stick, or lashed mercilessly with the same stick, the donkey always ends up pulling the wagon where her masters will it to go..."


I had met the cast officially later that day while wearing nothing more than another cheap prisoner costume dress as they had an almost unlimited supply of them at the gift store, (and such display of goods for the tourists to purchase also made obvious marketing sense), anything else likely rubbing on my tortured backside and to be avoided if possible, (not that any other form of clothing were offered by my jailers at the time). It was easy to recognize the lust in some of the other performers eyes as we all spoke in the saloon, I not the least bit shy about getting to know some of the handsome men of the town just a little better if the opportunity presented itself. I already knew I could turn them on, (and that their voyeurism while being strung up and publicly punished turned me on like nothing I had ever experienced before), and in exchange they also at least had a fair heads up about what kind of kink I needed, something I was willing to wager their well dressed girlfriends and wives had little taste for.

I foolishly gave no recognition to the dirty looks some of the girls of the town gave me at that meeting though, in my mind it was just something they would have to suck up and get over, but it was ultimately their inspiration for the direction of the upcoming skits that I would be compelled to perform in, and it would have been wiser to make nice nice with them early on. It had, (I would find out later), turned into something of a competition before the end of even that first day, the jealous girls, and others, anonymously submitting skit suggestions for me to perform into a suggestion box erected for just that purpose by Mrs. M.

 Also unknown to me at the time, the town elders reviewed these suggestions in a special meeting at the courthouse after I was locked back in my cell again on display, some of the suggestions, I was told later by the sheriff, even leaving the opportunistic Mrs. M speechless for their overall creativity, if not their ruthless vulgarity, but one stood out as an obvious first choice to the town elders. There was an element of irony to it, the assembled group reasoned, and all the female suggestion's author wanted was to also be cast in the skit, which again seemed reasonable.

It had also been decided at this review that my acting skills were subpar at best, and that as property of their little tourist town, just like the donkeys, I would have little say or forewarning in what happened to me day to day. No one, it had been argued reasonably, explained to the donkeys that they would be pulling a wagon the next day in a parade, and therefore neither should I, Mrs. M concluded, she really doing nothing more than giving voice to the group's consensus though.

Mrs. M had very good instincts for the tourist business and knew she had tapped into something, a synergy of kinky and sadistic ideas from the townsfolk that would excite the tourists and pry more money from their pockets, and in me the perfect performer to serve as both their proverbial, and at times literal, whipping girl. I was technically a well paid performer with a specific skill, (or exploitable kink one could argue), but at the same time so much less in the eyes of some of my fellow cast members...


I had every right to be concerned, as my fellow performers likely intended, when three nicely dressed younger women, (who had given me the evil eye at our get to know you cast meeting earlier), came into the sheriff's office later in the afternoon while he was out as if they owned the place. They didn't say a word to me, they just grabbed the keys to my cell's door from his desk as if they knew right where to look, the three of them grinning as they approached, they likely seeing the genuine fear in my eyes for what it was and relishing it.

I'm in pretty good shape physically, but one on three these girls with their years of hard work could easily have beaten the snot out of me if they wanted, and their evil grins combine with their earlier evil eye looks suggested they had some very bad intention for me in the sheriff's absence. The locked cell door might have protected me had they not known where to find the keys, but with them in their possession they effortlessly came through the door one after the other as I crowded toward the back corner, preventing me even an escape route in the tiny cell as they blocked my only egress.

These three rough but nicely dressed girls had a fatal flaw in their apparent plans to issue some street justice to me for the apparent crime of tempting their significant others with my exposed and whipped body though. They had forgotten to lock the door behind them!

I felt like a terrified and cornered animal fighting for it's life, and as such I had managed to surprise them by bolting into the slight gap between them, one of them grabbing a handful of my hair, and the other grabbing my scant striped prison dress. I somehow made it past them and to the office door, but several strands of my hair didn't, nor did my cheap costume dress. I then ran naked and for my life through the door and into center of town, the three girls screaming at the top of their lungs for somebody to stop me and they themselves in hot pursuit...  

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