Guilty as Charged

Continued from: Ethically Sourced

Here's Carley's conclusion of her fateful day at my Spanking Court, please enjoy and don't mind her eloquence in the language she uses...she's very well spoken ; ) 

Unbeknownst to Cassandra and I, Mistress had an ace up her sleeve when she entertained our pleas of not guilty, concealing a sinister smirk on her face. As it turned out, one of her gentleman clients, who sees her to be spanked, is an actual lawyer. Fuck! 

He even looked like a lawyer, with his cheap suit, 900-dollar shoes and a smug look on his face. 

Cassandra, my accomplice in crime, stood beside me, her lovely features pale and pinched, her grip on my hand tightening as Mistress Andrea (the Judge) began the proceedings. The charges - anilingus and lewdness - seemed to hang in the air like an unspoken promise, each syllable imbuing me with a sense of illicit thrill. 

Cassandra attempted a futile defence of herself, pleading with the court and making me blush in the process, when I heard her describe my own little bum hole. 

"The room was dark. I thought it was her pussy because she's so beautiful and pink back there."

"And the first time you made her cum, Miss Goth, is it safe to assume you knew it was her vagina then?" The lawyer attacked. 

"I was just cleaning it and it went off." Cassandra plead in her own defence.

After that line dropped, I glanced to Mistress Andrea who was doing her best to fight-off a giggle-fit behind the bench. 

"You were cleaning Miss Chapman's vagina and it just went off?" The lawyer repeated back to Cassie, his own voice cracking with the humour of it all. 

And with that, he bluntly turned to the bench and issued his final statement to the court. 

"The prosecution rests its case, your Worship."

With every fiber of my being screaming 'guilty,' I awaited the verdict, suspended in a state of exquisite butterflies. 

Mistress Andrea read our sentences to the court. I think mine was more lenient as I was only charged as a party to the offence. Nevertheless, I was still assigned 18 strokes of the judicial wooden paddle on my bare bum, and two months probation. 

Poor Cassandra, who still gripped my hand tightly during sentencing, would be receiving 36 strokes of the cane on the bare, and four months probation. 

Both sentences, to be carried out immediately before the court. 

The spanking bench, with its buckling leather restraints was produced, along with the caning stockade and finally the dreaded implements. A wicked thrill coursed through my veins like liquid fire, mingling with dread as I beheld the polished surface of the wooden paddle. My imagination ran wild with visions of not sitting comfortably for a week, and - dare I confess it? - a certain shameful exhilaration. 

The guards assisted us in removing our remaining dignity, the protective layers of clothing. Pants, then panties - each item surrendered like shed petals - until we were both naked from the waist down. A low whimper escaped my lips as reality crashed home; I would soon present my quivering flesh to the merciless gaze of the court. 

The guard's grip tightened on my upper arm, as I was lead to the spanking bench and restrained. 

The Judge's nod set the wheels of fate in motion, and with a deliberate slowness, the executioner approached, armed with the wooden paddle. 

Stroke after stroke followed until we reached the full 18, each one meticulously spaced to ensure maximum suffering. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill forth in a deluge of surrender. Yet even amidst this maelstrom of pain and humiliation, something perverse within me was thrilled with each brutal caress of the paddle. 

With my paddling complete, I was released from my crucible of correction and summarily deposited onto a hardwood pew of the courtroom, the unforgiving surface biting into my spanked bottom. From here, I was forced to sit quietly and witness Cassandra's ordeal unfold. 

My heart went out to my fellow transgressor, as the pretty guard flexed the cane in her hands, so sleek and unforgiving. 36 sizzling strokes followed, leaving her bare bum a network of fine lines, raised across her skin like stripes of shame. 

Amidst the fiery storm of pain and discipline, her very core responded with instinctual surrender, releasing a silken rivulet of arousal that glistened across her exposed pussy. My mouth watered at the spectacle before me, itching to explore the tender folds of her most intimate area. If only the constraints of the courtroom could be shed, I'd ravage her right on the spot. 

Alas, we soon found our wrists and ankles encircled in cold metal shackles, as we were led bare bottomed from the courtroom. Ball gags came next, an intrusive presence that muffled our whimpers of desire for each other. Locked securely into our cells, shackled and gagged. The court seemed to anticipate how we'd feel toward each other, after this ordeal, and decided to add this additional layer of torture. Jailed for one hour, to reflect on our punishments in silence. 

From my vantage point however, all I could reflect on was the area of the cellblock that I could see from my cell, and the sign that hung above it, illuminated with the words: 

"FEMALE PROBATION AREA"

The area looked like a stage, complete with directed lighting and a microphone boom, elevated and facing several rows of spectator seating. 

My stomach sank with a familiar sickness of butterflies as drool bubbled from my gag. I laid eyes on the apparatus that made up the centerpiece of this stage...

Female probation...

Written by: Carley Chapman 

Continued in: Fallen Angels

 

  

 

 

The Crown

Continued from: Aggravated Anilingus

I've just donned my judge's robes and white wig. The spanking court will soon be in session.

In Canada and I would assume around the British Commonwealth, when you're charged with a Federal crime, the governing authority of that particular law is the reigning monarch of the day. It appears as the letter 'R'. (R vs. Jane Doe, for instance)

In the U.S. I think it's the State. (The State of Minnesota vs. Jane Doe). 

Until the passing of Her Majesty the Queen, 'R' stood for Regina, the Latin word for Queen. Luckily we don't have to change all the law books and documents to something else, as Rex is the Latin word for King.

Essentially, King Charles could commit a murder in Canada and I'm not really sure what would happen, because you can't charge yourself with a crime. R vs. Rex...? Hmm. We'll need a lawyer's opinion on that one...

As for my unique court of adult discipline and correction, it's ME...versus the accused individual(s).

Today it happened to be co-accused miscreants, Carley and Cassandra. Both of whom have plead not guilty to the charges of lewdness, and aggravated anilingus. Not guilty!!? After I stood there and watched their little show on my own bedspread. I wonder what their defense is going to be on this one? 

I'll let Carley tell you all how this played out, she writes very eloquently. 

************

As I emerged from the darkness of my quarters, a sense of dread dogged my every step. Cassandra's nervous energy oozed from beneath her sharp business attire, as she stood beside me. We presented ourselves, as ordered, to the cell block area, under strict instructions to wear business formal, with hosiery and heels. 

I am sure this was designed to amplify the indignity of then, being stripped naked before the guard and exposed to the unforgiving glare of fluorescent lights.

As Cassandra and I stood before the emotionless guard, our hearts racing in tandem, the air grew thick with tension. Then came the ultimate humiliation - the bending, the spreading, the invasion of our most intimate recesses. I felt my face burn with shame as I watched Cassie comply, her hands reaching backward to part her buttocks, exposing her anus and vagina for inspection.

My pussy was pulsing with a mixture of fear and dark excitement, when the guard told me to stand and bend over. A gloved hand probed my bare asshole, then my vagina, exploring every crevice and contour with methodical thoroughness, searching for concealed contraband. 

It was an ordeal designed to break our spirits, to reduce us to mere vessels devoid of pride or autonomy. And yet, even as I submitted to this mortifying ritual, a spark within me trembled, acknowledging the strange allure of such objectification. 

As the heavy doors clanged shut behind us, I stood numb, surrounded by the drab, institutional walls that now confined me. The bright orange outfit seemed to glow with an otherworldly intensity, a beacon of shame that proclaimed my fallen status. Maybe we shouldn't have fucked on Mistress' bed after all? My inner dialog repeated back to me.  

As I sat in my cramped, dimly lit cell, the bright orange jumpsuit a stark reminder of my predicament, I called out to Cassandra, my voice barely above a whisper. "Cassandra, are you okay?" The reply came hesitantly, her words hitching along the way.

"Y-yes, Carley...I-I think so."

I swallowed hard, trying to process the unfolding nightmare. "Do you think they'll spank us in front of everyone? Will we be punished right in the court?"

Cassandra's voice echoed from within her cell. "All those people watching...judging." 

I bit my lip, my mind racing with visions of whipping posts and wooden stockades. "I've heard rumours of the Judge's Canadian prison strap," I confided, my stomach twisting with a mix of fear and morbid fascination. "They say it leaves welts that last for days."

Cassandra's gasp was audible, followed by an anguished moan. "What if they use it on us? What if we're forced onto those spanking benches and presented for everyone to see?"

My skin crawled at the thought, but something inside me quickened its pace, like a dark heartbeat awakening. 

"Imagine being forced to submit like this. Cassandra," I breathed, my words barely audible. "Imagine being bent over, helpless, with strangers feasting their eyes on our reddened bottoms..." There was a pause, during which I wondered if I'd gone too far, but Cassandra's tentative query surprised me.   

"D-do you think, Carley...do you think it might feel sort of...good? I smiled grimly from my cell, my pulse thumping in recognition of this twisted concept. 

"Only one way to find out out, Cassie...we plead not guilty, and potentially face the maximum sentence."

"Ohhhh fuck!" I heard Cassandra gasp out. "I felt that one right in my pussy," she moaned...

To be continued...

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: Ethically Sourced