I picture myself as the Punishment Officer in the courthouse. Girls, freshly sentenced to judicial corporal punishment, are taken to a holding cell and made to wait before being brought before me.
Some will struggle fiercely as they’re led into the room – the guards holding them tight to stop them escaping. Others will be meek, shocked, the dread of what’s to come overwhelming them. And a few will hold their heads high – defiant, proud, an air of “you can’t break me”. But I would, of course…
How dispassionate could I remain, whilst performing my duties? Would the quiet, apologetic ones find me a softer touch than their more rebellious counterparts – or would I have it in me to flog them just as hard?
Abel, I am certain, that no matter, what excuses these naughty ladies, will give you. Since they are judicial punishments, they will be given at 12 of the best strokes, of a pliable stinging cane, on their tender bare bottoms. And you will enjoy these moments, with vervant pleasure.