To catch a thief...

In a new world, with crime rising the government has had to find another way of solving the problems of its burgeoning prisons.  It is a method that I was soon to find myself a 'victim' of....

Having been caught and arrested for petty theft, my poor choices have led me to a police holding pen shackled and cuffed with a tough decision to make.  Do I sign for a long 8 year prison sentence (designed to make me avoid this choice) or go with the other option...a painful but quick solution to my problem.  The male guards smile sardonically at me as the choice is hardly an easy one; one involves losing a good 8 years of my life, whereas the other is a very painful and publicly humiliating experience.  My eyes darts about to my unfortunate cell-mates and I can see the other girls are struggling with the decision too.  No-one wants to throw their lives away, but who wants to expose their flesh in Trafalgar square for 36 strokes of the newly employed British prison strap?  I had accidentally witnessed such a punishment 6 months ago, and the jeering from the crowd seemed almost as difficult to bear as the punishing blow of the strap on the unfortunate's bared bottom.

I am brought out of my reverie by an impatient guard shoving paper-work in my hand...I must tick and sign for which option I wish to go for and do it now.  The task in itself feels shameful as my shackles rattle loudly as I struggle to grip the pen and do what must be done.  The noise reminds me of what a mess I am in.  I tick and sign and hand the papers back to the guard.  He smiles broadly at my decision and hauls me to my feet.  I am taken to the corridor, my ankle shackles linking me to the woman stood in front of me and told to keep my mouth shut.  The guard who dealt with me stands at the head of the line of women and announces that we are to be punished this afternoon at 3pm and orders us to march towards the door leading to transport outside.  I recoil in horror as I see the van has an open-caged rear, designed for everyone we pass to see us make our journey.  I could not believe it; it seemed Medieval.  Not only that, it was only 1030am...it could only be a 30 minute drive to Punishment Square.  I was about to find out, however...

On arrival, we are marched out onto Punishment Square and ordered into a row.  opposite us have been placed 6 boxes, which I quickly worked out to be one for each of us.  Our punishment outfits were arranged such that ours bottoms were now bared to all who went past.  I could barely hold back the tears.  Each of us were then placed on top of the boxes and handed a sign bearing the nature of our crime.  The guard shouted that we were to stand still and that he did not want to hear anything out of us unless we wanted to add extra strokes to our sentence.  People passed us...so many people.  Some just stared, others laughed and some even shouted abuse at us.  The guards moved between us making sure we kept our signs held high.

Finally the clock struck 3pm.  By now quite a crowd had gathered and I was barely able to stand.  My legs gave up as I was dragged down from the box.  I could not believe I was going to be first.  My sentence was read out and the strap was shown to both me and the crowd who were silent, expectant. The first stroke came in with such a pace I could only gasp in shock before crying out loudly.  To my horror, the crowd cheered and cried for more.  The Punisher seemed spurred on by this...the second broke actually burned even more than the first.  I was only two strokes in but already I was crying from the pain and humiliation.  The crowd seemed to become more and more excited with each searing stroke of the strap and I began to lose count of how many I had suffered.  Through my tears I could see the crowd laughing and joking, clearly enjoying my fate.  I finally heard the Punisher count 30.  I had six more strokes to go.  If I thought I had got used to this I could not be more wrong.  The final six were administered with such force I screamed out with each delivery.  Bottom on fire and tears streaming down my face I was placed back on my plinth.  It was clear my punishment was not over yet.  Whilst all others were punished in the same terrible way I was to stand in front of everyone displaying my bottom as an example of what happens to citizens who break the law.  Needless to say I had no plans to be in this position again, but also had no idea how I was going to show my face again....after all everyone would know I was one of the first ladies to suffer at the hands of the British strap....

Hope you enjoyed folks!  I do apologise for the delay, but hope it has been worth the wait!