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Trumped up punishments Chapter 1

Categories Fiction, BDSM, Humiliation, School

Authror: Bowstead

Published: 21 March 2018

  • Font:

Trumped up punishments Chapter 1

President Trump, as he commenced his second term, signed an executive order under which corporal punishment was reinstated in all public schools in the United States. Schools were given great latitude in implementing the change; the only way for parents to object was to remove their children from the school in question and enrolling them either in a private school or in a school with a less harsh punishment regime.

Millennium High School was a public school in Bismarck, North Dakota, a State where the President gained 80% of the vote. It was also known for its severe discipline and behavioral problems, as well as its sub-optimal academic performance. Its headmaster, Mr. Barton, had previously been in charge of a military boot camp - he knew little or nothing about education but had very strong views about discipline - views that included pain, humiliation and nudity. The toughest thug and gang members had become docile if left naked in the open for long enough. Unfortunately, until now, he had not been able to have his way when it came to disciplining the students, and this had both frustrated him and given him a neat excuse when challenged by parents about the school’s discipline and academic record.

The school governors were all Trump supporters, and they trusted Mr. Barton implicitly - so much so that they had delegated all discipline matters to him personally. They had also agreed when he requested funding (taken from the fine arts, music and drama departments) to hire a school police force drawn from ex-military personnel. They were known as the school security guards, and they had until now checked pupils for weapons, drugs, and seditious literature at each of the school entrances. With the Executive Order signed, they were about to be employed in a rather more prominent role.

Just two days after the President had signed the Executive Order, the following notice appeared on the school’s Intranet:

New Discipline Regime at Millennium High

Following the President’s change of Federal Law by Executive Order, corporal punishment will be reinstated at the school.

With immediate effect, a special assembly of the whole school will be held in the school theater in the morning of the first Monday of each month. Any student having accumulated more than 10 demerits will undergo punishment in front of the whole school. Punishments can include caning (usually of the bottom) and whipping (usually of the back). The Headmaster has discretion to order other forms of punishment in appropriate cases. Students undergoing discipline may be required to shed some or all of their clothing. Punishments will be fair and proportionate, according to the maxim: “Let the Punishment fit the Crime’.

Stop Press Stop Press

The first special assembly has been called for tomorrow morning. At this assembly, the new discipline regime will be demonstrated on students who have accumulated a significant number of demerits over the past three weeks. All students please be in their seats by 9am - latecomers will earn five demerits.

Ever since Mr. Barton’s appointment, the school had been known for tough, if somewhat ineffective, discipline. A demerit system was in place by which bad academic performance, infringements of school rules and behavior outside school designed to ‘bring the school into disrepute’ earned the student in question demerits which would then accumulate over the month. 10 demerits had hitherto led to being barred from the next school trip or event (such as a prom), 20 demerits meant exclusion from school for a week in addition, 30 demerits meant having to repeat the school year (being excluded from school events throughout that year). Fewer than 10 demerits were carried over until the following month; punishment wiped the slate clean.

Burt,15, the captain of the school’s junior football team, was worried when he came down to breakfast the next morning. He had never excelled at academic work, and a number of poor performances at the white board when being tested on his homework by Mr. Jones, the math teacher, had so far earned him 15 demerits. That would not be so bad (15 did not seem ‘significant’), but he had been late the day before (his morning run had taken longer than planned), and whom would he run into but the Headmaster as he was trying to sneak into school? Mr. Barton had angrily sent him to class, giving him 10 demerits for lateness. Now, 25 was quite serious. So Burt was worried, and his Mum was concerned.

“What’s with the long face, Burt?”, she asked. “Is anything the matter?”.

“No”, Burt replied. “I’m just worried we are going to lose against the Fargo Hawks next week.” He wasn’t going to admit to his mother that he was in trouble!

Cindy, 16, was likewise morose during breakfast. She had been caught shoplifting the week before, and the shopkeeper had reported this not just to the police (she had been summarily convicted to 30 hours of community service), but also to the school. Bringing the school into disrepute carried an automatic 25 demerits, although these had not yet been formally awarded to her. She was worried, however, that they would be and that she might be one of the students that would be made an example of. She very much hoped that the shopkeeper had not told the school just what she had been shoplifting …

Cliff, at 16, was the school bully. He was always one to beat up boys (and, sometimes, girls) smaller than him, and it was well known that he was very quick to grope a girl should the opportunity arise, as in line at the cafeteria, or in the scrum in the morning when everybody was trying hard to get through the narrow door when the school opened. He had received several demerits for bullying, and an investigation for groping was ongoing following a feature about the allegations against him in the student newspaper, the Millennium Herald. At the moment, he only had 10 ‘official’ demerits, so he thought himself safe as he was driving his Mustang to school.

Kimberly, at 17, was known as the school’s ‘sure thing’. Her reputation was that, if it had a penis, she would sleep with it. However, the reputation was almost entirely unmerited. Though she had recently lost her virginity to her then boyfriend, she did not ‘sleep around’. Although she dressed provocatively (or ‘sluttily’, as her jealous frenemies would describe it), she had only ever slept with that one guy. He had then dumped her, and she had tried to take some mile revenge by posting a naked picture of him (showing clearly that he was somewhat under endowed) on Facebook. This had been traced to her and she had received 20 demerits for bringing he school into disrepute. So, as she was locking her bike in front of the school, she was somewhat nervous.

Nervous described the state of any pupil of the school that had more than ten demerits, and there were many of those. They were all gathered well before 9am in the school theater - a grand, purpose-built building which a former pupil who had made it big in Hollywood had built for the school. Now that Burton had taken funding away from drama, of course, it did not really have a function any more, other than as a rather grand assembly hall with excellent sight-lines!

The stage was bare, apart from four empty chairs downstage and four members of the new school security service discretely standing at the back, under two large cinema screens.

“Welcome, pupils of Millennium High School!”, a voice (Mr. Barton’s) came over the theater’s speaker system.

“Today is the first day of a new era at the school, during which discipline problems will be a thing of the past, thanks to our revered President’s latest executive order. At this school, we are always keen to respect the democratically expressed will of the people, and have changed our discipline regime in accordance with the President’s wishes. We very much hope that today’s demonstration will make future assemblies unnecessary, but that shall remain to be seen. Our motto shall be, ‘Let the punishment fit the crime’. We will demonstrate this on the four worst offenders that are currently present in the room, and hopefully this demonstration will deter those offenders from offending again, and others from offending in the future!

We shall now all rise and recite the new Pldege of Allegiance.”

“I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the President, who guides us, protects us and allots liberty and justice to some of us.”

That done, everyone sat down again. There was a suspenseful hush in the room.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I will now read out the names of the four worst offenders of the past three weeks. Will these please make their way to the stage and sit in one of the chairs. They are: Burt Rogerson, Cindy Honeyford, Cliff Jackson and Kimberly Johnson!”

A communal sigh of relief from those 450 or so students who had not been asked to come up. Burt, Cindy, Cliff and Kimberly, on the other hand, made their way to the stage, their hearts beating hard in their chests, and sat down on the chairs.

“The way these punishment sessions are going to proceed is by the offenders first confessing their guilt to all their fellow pupils. A member of security will hand you a microphone - please explain to us why you think you are here! Mr. Rogerson to go first!”.

Burt was unused to public speaking.

“Well, I have always been pretty bad at math - football is more my thing. And then I was late the other day … I can’t think of anything else.”

“Mr. Rogerson, is it not true that you have not completed a single math assignment in the last three weeks?”

“Yes, I guess that’s true.”

“And that you were late no fewer than five times?”

Burt thought that the other times he was late had gone undetected, but thought confessing was the best policy.

“Mr. Rogerson, you will receive 25 cane strokes on your posterior, one for each demerit. Please hand the microphone to Miss Honeyford.”

Cindy’s voice was shaking.

“I was caught shoplifting recently and the shopkeeper reported me to the school as well as the police. I am very sorry to have brought the school into disrepute.”

“What was it that you stole, Miss Honeyford?”

“Do I really have to say?”

“Yes, you do.”

“A packet of condoms.” The school burst into laughter.

When the laughter had died down, the voice asked: “How old are you, Miss Honeyford?”

“16, Sir”.

“So, is a 16-year-old allowed to have sex in this State?”

“No, Sir.”

“What did you need the condoms for, then?”

“Well, I wanted them as a precaution. I was worried that I might get raped, and, if that were to happen, I wanted to ask my rapist to put on a condom.”

Uproarious laughter.

“That must be the worst excuse I have ever heard. Your punishment shall fit the crime. To put sex out of your mind once and for all, you shall take off your skirt and panties. You will then be strapped to a special punishment horse and whipped on your vagina 25 times. Please pass the microphone to Mr. Jackson!”

Cindy all but fainted - she simply could not believe what was about to happen to her. In a daze, she handed the microphone to Cliff. He was actually the guy who had threatened to rape her. She’d been too embarrassed to buy the condoms - and she thought she might get into trouble if she tried. She was a good girl, trying to do everything right, and now this horrible thing had happened to her.

“Can we have some quiet, please?”

The pupils were still going nuts over what was about to happen, and it took some time for them to quieten down.

“Mr. Jackson, why are you here?”

“Well, I guess I have beaten up a few smaller boys from time to time - disciplining them, so to speak. Believe me, they deserved it!”

“Do not try to justify yourself - that’s what Twitter is for! So, you have been bullying younger boys?”

“I guess so.”

“How about girls?”

“If they deserved it, I have from time to time beaten up small girls, too”.

Boos and catcalls from a large number of female pupils.

“Is it not also true that you have often been accused of groping women on the school premises?”

“Accused, yes, but it’s all a campaign by the fake student paper! I would never grab a woman by the pussy - after all, I’m not a celebrity (yet)!”

“Your attempt at humor is misplaced, Mr. Jackson. The difference is that our President can grab women by the pussy because women enjoy being grabbed and groped by him, the most powerful, potent and handsome man in the universe. This does not apply to you! We consider the case against you proven! You shall receive thirty cane strokes entirely naked. You shall then be strapped down and we shall invite any of your female fellow pupils who have been groped by you to come up and give you a kick between the legs! Let the punishment fit the crime!”

The girls in the audience went wild with delight.

“Please pass the microphone to Miss Johnson!”

Kimberly was feeling weak. She was now sure that she would be forced to strip for her punishment. This was just so unfair!

“We haven’t got all day, Miss Johnson!”

“Ok, this is what happened. My boyfriend got me to sleep with him and then dumped me the next day. In revenge, I posted a naked pic of him on Facebook. I am very sorry, I should not have done it, I was just so hurt!”

“A handsome apology. Still, your sentence must fit the crime. You shall be given 20 cane strokes entirely naked, 10 whip lashes on your back and 10 whiplashes on your front. Please hand the microphone to one of the security guards. We shall now commence. Mr. Rogerson, please stand up and move center stage!”

A large punishment horse was wheeled onto the stage by one of the security guards. This had been specifically manufactured to Mr. Barton’s specifications: it allowed the culprit to be firmly secured in any position desired. There were Velcro straps all over it, allowing endless possibilities.

While one of the guards took Burt’s arm and moved him over to the contraption, the voice warned that the use of video equipment was strictly prohibited and would be punished by 20 demerits.

Burt was somewhat relieved to hear this! Relief was, all things considered, the predominant emotion he was experiencing, anyway. He was wearing thick jeans and was pretty sure that the cane would not hurt all that much through them. Having listened to what was about to happen to the other three he was both relieved it was going to happen to them and not him, and excited, particularly about the punishment that the two girls were about to receive! He had developed an erection, mercifully hidden by his jeans (if he’d been asked to strip, that would have been a major embarrassment!).

He lay down on the punishment horse, his bottom facing the audience, and the security guard had secured one of his legs, when another guard hastened towards the horse and whispered something in his colleague’s ear; the latter then unstrapped him again.

They both felt the thickness of the material of his jeans - then shook their heads towards the back of the theater.

“Mr. Rogerson, unfortunately the fabric that your jeans are made of is too thick for our purposes. You are therefore required to take them off before the punishment can commence. Please step to the front of the stage, face the audience and slowly take them down. Then hand them to one of the guards and remain standing until further notice.”

Disaster! This was terrible. He could feel his penis pushing against the fabric of his jeans … he was wearing loose boxers and his erection would be obvious to everyone! If only he had put on a longer T-shirt – the one he was wearing was a tight sports jersey. Still, there was nothing for it.

He walked to the edge of the stage. The auditorium appeared dark to him - the lights illuminating the stage were blinding him.

“We haven’t got all day, Mr. Rogerson!”

He slowly undid his belt. Then the button. He opened the zipper. If only these weren’t so tight! It took quite a lot of effort to slide them down, and the first obstacle was his hard and throbbing penis! Oh no! The boxers actually came down with the jeans, and for two seconds his penis was exposed. He quickly pulled the boxers up again, but the damage was done. The audience went wild with catcalls and whistles. His boxers made quite a sizeable ‘tent’, but then, everybody knew he had an erection now, anyway.

“Well, well, Mr. Rogerson. I’m pretty sure you should not be enjoying this! Let’s get your punishment started!”

Two guards took one arm each and led him to the horse. He was strapped in, secured by one large strap across his back, as well as at his ankles and wrists. He could not move.

“Will all pupils please count each stroke.”

One of the guards raised a heavy cane and brought it down on Burt’s scantily clad bottom.

“ONE’. The cane bit into his flesh - these guards knew their stuff, but Burt could not really rejoice in the knowledge that Barton wasn’t wasting the school’s money on them.

“TWO”. This wasn’t getting any better.

In fact, each successive stroke was more painful than the last, and soon Burt’s bottom was on fire. Stroke after stroke landed on his butt.

“24”. Oh God, almost at the end. Not before time.

“25”. Pain, and relief. In roughly equal measure. This had not been a positive experience.

He was unstrapped.

“Mr. Rogerson, please stand at the at the front of the stage again.” If he had thought he’d get his jeans back, he was wrong. Instead, the guard handed him a microphone. He was glad that the pain had caused his erection to subside.

“Please describe what you are feeling right now, and what you were feeling during the punishment.”

“Well, I am relieved it’s over. It was really painful. And humiliating. I will try to pay more attention to my studies from now on, I promise. Anything to avoid a repeat of this!”

“Those are good sentiments. A round of applause for Mr. Rogerson.”

The applause was lukewarm at best. The audience could not wait for the next punishee.

“Please return to your chair and sit down.”

Two guards accompanied him and took one of Cindy’s arms each, escorting her to the front of the stage. During Burt’s punishment, Cindy had been doing some thinking. Surely, even with the famous executive order, they could not possibly be allowed to do this to her? Surely there were still laws against stripping minors and punishing them by whipping their sex? Surely that was sexual assault of the worst kind? She would protest and refuse to cooperate. She would threaten that her parents would sue. She would certainly not submit without a fight!

“Miss Honeyford, you have been sentenced to be whipped on your vagina 25 times. You are required to take off your skirt and panties. Please do so now, facing the audience.”

“No, I certainly will not! This is assault! This is criminal! My parents shall sue! I am not cooperating! This is unfair, immoral and abusive!”

The voice went ice-cold: “The school is entirely within the law in pronouncing this sentence. The executive order is very broad and covers us. Should it be overturned by the fake judges, the President has vouched to pardon any person or institution acting in accordance with it in good faith. You can comply willingly, or we will compel your compliance. It is your choice. Should we have to compel you, your punishment will be doubled, by the way. And you shall suffer it entirely naked.”

Faced with this awful prospect, Cindy’s resistance crumbled. Cliff and Kimberly were also revising their plans of rebellion. They began to realize that this was going to happen. The reality of it was hard to take in.

Cindy now slowly and sullenly undid the clasp of her skirt and let it fall to the ground. She then put her fingers under the waistband of her panties and slid them off. Her blouse was very long, though, and it covered her private area almost completely.

“Miss Honeyford, the purpose of this punishment is to humiliate you by exposing your sex to your peers. Your blouse is preventing this. I require you to take it off, please.”

She was now resigned. He could just make up the rules as he went along. She unbuttoned her blouse and took it off. She was now clad only in a bra - in a way, she thought, this was obscener than being completely nude.

After initial catcalls and whistles, the room was now almost entirely silent. The two guards led her over to the punishment horse, where a third guard with a whip was waiting. They lifted her onto the horse, lying on her back. They then took one leg each and secured this to the two vertical beams, using Velcro shackles. Her legs were high in the air, spread. She knew that her spread slit would be visible to everyone there, but didn’t know that her bottom hole was also on display for all to see.

The lights illuminating the stage went out; just a spotlight bathing the punishment horse in light remained. Only now did the audience notice that the two screens behind the stage had projected on them a close-up of Cindy’s vagina on the right side of the stage, and a close-up of Cindy’s face on the left. Cindy was mercifully oblivious of this, at least until …

“The close-ups of Miss Honeyford’s vagina and face that you can now see on the screens behind the stage are to increase her humiliation. I repeat that attempting to take any video or picture of either her or the screens will be punished severely!”

Increase her humiliation it did. She could not believe this was happening!

“The sentence is 25 whip strokes. Audience to count these out loud, as before. Please commence!”

“Swoosh, whack!”

“ONE!”

“Swoosh, whack!”

“TWO!”

The pain was intense, her pussy on fire almost immediately. How could she stand 25 of these? Her face, shown at extreme magnification on the screen, was contorted in pain, her screams would have filled the theater but for the fact that almost 500 of her fellow students were counting and cheering each stroke. There were some that felt sorry for her, but they were in a distinct minority.

Cliff, meanwhile, had made the mistake to look behind him, catching more than a glimpse of the huge video of Cindy’s vagina being brutalized. He could feel how the blood shot into his penis - there was no doubt it would soon be fully erect. He closed his eyes and tried to block out what was happening - not entirely easy! He tried to think of unsexy things: loft insulation, double glazing, President Trump … but to no avail.

In the meantime, Cindy’s vagina had been whipped 24 times and, before the final lash, she was given a short respite. In reality, this was to allow the camera to close in even further on her abused genital flesh.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I think we can see that the well-deserved punishment has produced visible results - her outer and inner lips are swollen and red and there are some pleasant stripes on her thighs. Could we have a close-up of her clitoris, please? Yes, this also seems to have been hit a few times, it is red and sore. Maybe our guard can try to aim the final stroke at the clitoris? We want to put all thoughts of sex out of Miss Honeyford’s mind for at least four years!”

“Swoosh, whack!” “Twenty-five!” Unerringly, the whip had found its mark - Cindy’s clit was on fire.

“We are going to explore the effect of that last lash with the camera - indeed, it appears that the whip found its mark! One round of applause for Carl, our friendly security guard!”

There was actually quite a lot of applause for Carl, while another two guards unshackled Cindy and led her over to her chair, where she had to sit down half naked.

Cliff was up next and was being led to the center of the stage.

“Mr. Jackson, please take off your shoes.”

He did.

“And socks.”

Again, he complied.

“Now your shirt.”

He revealed an upper body that was in pretty good shape.

“Pants.”

He slowly undid his belt and stepped out of his pants. He knew that his erection was now obvious. Cheers from the crowd.

“Time to take down that tent!” Down came the underpants - he was now entirely naked.

“Please turn 45 degrees to your right.” His erection was standing proud. Cheers, jeers and laughter from the audience.

“Our motto’s ‘let the punishment fit the crime’. I therefore suggest an alternative punishment - 25 cane strokes on Mr. Jackson’s erect penis.” Cheering from the audience.

“I will let you decide. If you favor the original punishment of 30 cane strokes to his bottom, please clap.”

There was some clapping, but not much.

“If you favor the alternative punishment of 25 cane strokes to his penis, please clap.”

The auditorium went wild.

“The decision is clear. I will allow any victim of Mr. Jackson’s bullying to help carry out the punishment, that includes boys and girls that were bullied and older female students that Mr. Jackson sexually assaulted. Please make your way to the stage and form an orderly line.”

A lot of activity broke out in the theater, with boys, girls and young women passing through the rows and walking down the aisles towards the stage. After a few minutes, there were eight preteen boys, six preteen girls and ten adolescent women standing in line.

The guards led Cliff to the punishment horse, both sides of which were in the shape of a St Andrew’s cross. Cliff was secured to this by his wrists and ankles.

In the meantime, the third and fourth guard were re-ordering the line so that the youngest girls were at the front, followed by the young boys, with the older girls at the back.

The girl who was now handed the (very thin) cane was around eleven years old.

“If any of you would like to tell the audience what Mr. Jackson did to you before administering your stroke, one of the guards has a microphone for that purpose.”

The girl holding the cane, a pretty brunette, who was only just beginning to develop breasts, took the microphone and said “He stole my lunch money!”

She then took up position on the stage side of Cliff’s penis, raised the cane, and brought it down with some force, hitting the penis shaft at around the half way point. A beautifully executed stroke for one so young!

“Well done. Can the camera please focus on the impact site?”

It was only now that Cliff realized that his penis and face were being live-streamed to the projectors and the huge screen behind the stage!

The line of girls, and some boys, waiting to cane his erect penis stretched into the darkness, so he could not tell how many were left. One girl after another stepped up, took hold of the cane, some telling the audience in what way he had wronged them, some not, and then whacked his penis. Not all did a very good job, and when they did not succeed in making a mark of getting a reaction from him, they sometimes got booed by the audience.

Then the first boy took up his position next to Cliff. He chose not to say anything; instead, he brought the cane down with full force, leaving a clear mark on the shaft.

Generally, the boys were rather better at this than the girls. One 14-year-old, third in line, in particular, realized that the glans, particularly in an uncircumcised male, is the most sensitive spot on the penis. Now, Cliff was uncircumcised, but his foreskin covered the glans, denying his young tormentor the target he was particularly keen to hit. He took hold of the mic, but instead of complaining about how Cliff had wronged him, he asked a question:

“Would it be possible to ask him to pull back his foreskin, please?”

“A very good idea, young man. However, as his wrists are secured he cannot really manage that. You have my permission to pull it back yourself, however.”

The boy was clearly not happy about this - he got a tissue out of his pocket and used this to pull back the foreskin. The smooth skin of Cliff’s glans was now exposed - the camera homed in on it.

The boy raised his cane and - swish - his Cliff directly on the glans. Cliff screamed loudly, but the scream was drowned out by the applause and cheering of the audience.

The next boys in line, between 10 and 13 years of age, all took great pains to try and hit the glans, and most succeeded.

“Unless I miscounted, these were 14 out of 25 strokes. 11 strokes remain. From now on, these will be administered not by bullying victims but victims of sexual assault. We will therefore switch to a heavier cane. Carl?”

Carl the guard handed the first girl in line, who looked around 15, a much thicker cane. It was about half as thick as Cliff’s penis - Carl made her hold it next to it in order for the camera to capture the relative thicknesses of cane and penis even for the benefit of those seated further away.

The girl then brought the cane down on his shaft - Cliff screamed out, the crowd cheered.

Some of the girls hit harder than others; some managed to hit his glans. What amazed Cliff (and the crowd) was that the pain, which was considerable, did not make his erection subside. It was still going strong even as the last girl managed to hit his cock length-wise, from base to glans, quite a feat or marksmanship, as the voice of Mr. Barton remarked.

“Well done, well done. Now, Mr. Jackson will now be repositioned for the second part of his punishment. All young ladies who have been victims of Mr. Jackson’s lechery are entitled to give him one kick between his legs - even if you have already caned him, so if you have returned to your seats, come back and rejoin the line. All I ask is that you remove your shoes - we do not want to castrate him.”

Cliff, in the meantime, had been positioned on his knees, with his legs spread and his bottom facing the audience. His balls were dangling freely between his legs. A cameraman moved backstage in order to capture his face, now that it was facing away from the audience.

The first girl had taken off her shoes and moved into position behind him. She aimed and kicked - his scream filled the auditorium, the pain was unbearable. His erection went down almost immediately.

Girl after girl removed her shoes, aimed, kicked. Some connected well, some less so - one was more of a kick in the ass than a kick in the balls, but the girl who had had such bad aim was not allowed to kick again.

In the end, no fewer than 23 girls had given him a kick - he had never experienced pain like this. The crowd jeered and booed as he was untied and more or less carried back to his chair by two guards. Then silence fell.

“Miss Johnson, please come to the front of the stage!”

Kimberly got up. This was going to be terrible. She could not believe what she had witnessed, and she could not believe she was about to be part of it.

“Miss Johnson, you have been sentenced to 20 cane strokes on your bottom, 10 whip lashes on your back and 10 whiplashes on your chest. The punishment will be administered by Carl, and you will be entirely naked throughout.

Before I order you to undress, however, I have just one announcement intended for the audience. Miss Johnson’s crime was to post a private photo of her former boyfriend on a social networking site. Our motto is ‘let the punishment fit the crime’ - for the duration of her punishment, therefore, the use of photographic and video equipment is expressly permitted, in fact encouraged. The school owns the copyright of any material that results, and gives express permission for this to be posted on social networking sites and indeed on the school intranet.

Will the guards please make sure that the other three culprits’ chairs are turned facing away from the audience, so that they will not be visible on any footage? Thank you.”

Kimberly could not believe it. Her disgrace would be with her forever, there was no way ever to live it down!

“Miss Johnson, stop shaking and start by taking off your top.”

She complied, taking off her tank top.

“Now your skirt, if you can call it that!”

Indeed, Kimberley’s skirt was a rather flimsy garment - her dress sense, or lack thereof, had earned her the reputation as a slut, undeserved though this might be. Again, she let it fall to the ground, and was now facing the dark auditorium dressed in only panties (well, a string tanga, in fact) and mini-bra.

“Stop there. We will let your fellow pupils decide whether you should take off your bra or your panties first. Please clap if you would like to see the panties go!”

Raucous applause.

“And now for the bra!”

Slightly less raucous applause.

“Remove your panties, please.”

She let the string fall to the floor. Her pubic area was shaven bald, with just a little tuft on pubic her above her slit left.

“And finally, the bra!”

She was now entirely naked. She heard the artificial shutter noises of a large number of cellphones, and her humiliation was complete.

Or so she thought.

“I think it would be greatly appreciated both by the audience here and by all those who will be watching this on their computers and mobile phones, if you were to spread your legs and open your vagina with your hands, Miss Johnson. Or would you rather that I asked the guards to help you? Feel free to sit on the punishment horse if that makes it easier.”

Kimberly knew she had no choice. She sat on the edge of the punishment horse, spread her legs and pulled her pussy lips apart with her hands. A close up was projected on both screens. It seemed as if everyone in the theatre was taking videos or pictures of her. She closed her eyes.

“Thank you, Miss Johnson. We shall now execute your sentence.”

A guard took her by the arm and made her stand. She was then strapped over the punishment horse in the same way that, it seemed an eternity ago, Burt had been. Only that she was naked, and he hadn’t been. Her legs were spread and secured to the vertical beams of the horse; her body was strapped down, as were her wrists. The camera homed in on her rear; as her legs were spread, both her holes were clearly visible.

“Twenty cane strokes are to be administered. You have a choice: you can choose the heaviest cane now and have a lighter whip used on your back and breasts. It’s up to you!”

“I would like the heaviest cane, please”, Kimberly said into the microphone that the guard held in front of her mouth.

“I would be grateful if the audience could remain quiet during the punishment. Miss Johnson will count out the strokes. Anyone who is detected making a noise will earn 10 demerits!”

The hall fell deadly silent. Carl raised the cane, the thickest cane, and brought it down.

A loud scream filled the theatre, amplified by the microphone.

“One”, Kimberly whispered into the microphone.

Again, the cane came down. Another scream.

“Two.”

Kimberley later did not know how she had managed to get through all 20 strokes. But she did. Her bottom was covered in red stripes, purple stripes.

She was unstrapped, made to stand up. The punishment horse had two horizontal bars that could be pulled out at the top of the contraption, and these were now extended. Her hands were shackles to these. She was now unable to get away, with her back facing the audience.

“Again, you have a choice between two whips: a medium whip and a light whip. Whichever one you choose, the other will be used on your breasts.”

Kimberly chose the medium whip, of course.

Carl applied it well; again, she had to count, again, the pain was intense. When it was over, her back was criss-crossed with welts.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have reached the final punishment of the morning. Miss Johnson’s breasts will be whipped ten times with the lightest whip. Thereafter, all four miscreants will be standing at the front of the stage for ten minutes for anyone who would like to come down to have a closer look. Please remember that permission to use video and photo equipment is limited to Miss Johnson’s punishment. Speaking of which, I see she has now been turned around so that her punishment can begin. Again, I ask for silence.”

Indeed, Kimberley’s breasts were now visible to all, and Carl had raised the whip. Each crack of the whip was followed by a loud scream, and Kimberley counting. By the end, her breasts were criss-crossed with red lines most of which crossed her nipples or at least areolae.

“I think Carl deserves another round of applause for marksmanship.”

Most people clapped and cheered.

“Now, before all the culprits are paraded at the edge of the stage, I have had a suggestion from a concerned pupil. Mr. Jackson was punished for groping women - the suggestion is that women should now be allowed to grope him. In my view, the suggestion is a good one. He will be strapped onto the punishment horse again, on his back, with his legs spread and tied behind him. He will be left in that position for twenty minutes.”

Cliff had recovered somewhat from his ordeal - his balls were still aching. Unfortunately, as the other three punishees had been turned around, so as to avoid that any more than their backs could be seen on any footage of Kimberley, Cliff had been facing the huge screen showing Kimberley’s ordeal in supersize and HD, so that even though bruised and beaten, his penis had developed an erection again.

So, Cliff was escorted by Carl to the punishment horse and lay down on it. Carl took his right foot and shackled it to the beam next to Cliff’s head and repeated this with his left foot. He also put a strap round his midriff and shackles his hands to the same beam that his feet were shackled to. He then left him in that humiliating position.

The other three had, in the meantime, been taken to the edge of the stage, Burt between the two girls - a semi naked 16-year-old and a naked 17-year-old, both bruised from their respective beatings.

The audience were making their way down to the bottom of the auditorium, with mainly boys making a beeline for the edge of the stage to get a closer look of Kimberley and Cindy. This was actually quite embarrassing for Burt who, though clad in his underwear, sported a very visible erection.

“Show us your ass, Kimberley!” “Spread your legs, Cindy - wow, that must have been painful!” were just some of the comments hurled at the girls.

Cliff was by now surrounded by girls. At first, they hesitated to touch him and just ogled his badly bruised genitals (and, incidentally, his wide-spread bottom hole). They were encouraging each other to ‘go for it’, making jokes and giggling a lot. Then one took a heart and grabbed his penis, massaging it and bending it down, and now there was no stopping them: there were female hands all over his body, but mainly on his cock and balls, squeezing them, bending down his cock as far as it would go. The ordeal was meant to be humiliating, but it was in fact also quite painful, given the torture his genitals had recently undergone.

Still, all good things must come to an end. After twenty minutes, the audience was asked to leave and the four culprits were escorted to the school’s medical centre to make sure that no permanent harm had been suffered by any of them.

When Kimberley got home after a long an embarrassing school day (everybody pretended that nothing had happened, but that made it all the more embarrassing), her Facebook account was flooded by messages from people who had already seen videos and stills of her torture. One comment stung particularly badly: “Serve you right, bitch!’.

It was from her ex-boyfriend.

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Trumped up punishments Chapter 1

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