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 Certificate of Correction Pt 5--Jane's Turn

   On Monday I didn't waste any time.  I contacted Harriet Reeves, a law
school classmate of mine.  And a friend.  I had heard from someone that she
had actually moved to St John's and set up a practice there.  We had almost
had a thing going once, but I was young and carefree and I guess I wasn't
ready for the type of commitment she wanted.  Chalk it up to bad timing. 
So she had become engaged to Frank, another law student.  I hadn't seen or
spoken to her in years, but she was glad to hear from me.

   "Rollin, wow, what brings you to these parts?  Getting tired of all that
Ohio Valley winter weather?  Come on down!" Hearing Harriet's voice brought
back sweet memories and made me wonder what the hell I had been thinking to
let her get away?  A real sweetheart.  Too bad she had to go and marry
Frank.

   "God, Harriet, you sound great.  Island life must be treating you well."

   We caught up with each other for awhile.  I was surprised to hear that
Frank was out of the picture.  "Frank was never here.  I came down here
after the divorce.  This place isn't cosmopolitan enough for Frank." We
caught up some more before I got around to telling him what the problem
was.

   "Whew!  That's not a good situation.  I'll see what your niece's friend
was charged with exactly, but I must tell you that they come down on drug
use very hard here.  Stuff that would get you a slap on the wrist in the
states will get you some serious time here.  I'll call you back."

   Well I didn't know if drugs would get you just a slap on the wrist
around here--it might get you lots of slaps somewhere else, though.  I dug
into office work as I waited for Harry to call back.  Jane was her usual
chipper self this morning, but I began to notice, as my drafts came back, a
lot of errors.  I began to get annoyed.  Then she switched letters, putting
one to the client in the envelope addressed to my opposing counsel and vice
versa.  What the hell....?

   "Jane, can you come in here?"

   "Right away boss." Jane strolled in notebook in hand.  I noted the sexy
librarian look--hair in a bun, white blouse, dark tight, and very short,
skirt.  She looked flustered.

   "Jane what is this?  Your work today has been sloppy as hell and we
almost had a disaster with this switched letter." Jane stood there twisting
her hands like a schoolgirl in the principal's office.  "I'm sorry boss, I
just can't concentrate today."

   "Well, you'd better start," I sad gruffly.  "We can't have a screwup
like you almost made.  I could be sued for malpractice!  Pay attention to
what you're doing." I was sorry to have to bark at her like that, but I was
peeved.  She hastily retreated and I noted the sexy wiggle of her rear--set
into motion by those 3" heels no doubt.

   Then Harriet called back.  "It's not good," she reported.  "Your niece's
friend, one Susan Pemberton was arrested for possession with intent to
distribute.  The penalty can be up to 3 years in jail."

   "How can this be?  Erin told me they only had an ounce of pot each."

   "Yeah, well, that's the rub.  When your niece and her friend left, they
left their stuff with Susan, so when she was nabbed the total stash was
presumed to be hers.  Anything over one ounce, they presume you're going to
sell some, so they charged her with a distribution rap."

   "You mean to tell me that if all three of these girls had been caught at
the same time that the charge would be possession only?"

   "Yep.  And the sentence doesn't involve jail time---although it's not
very pleasant.  See, St John's has a CP law like a few of the states.  For
some minor crimes the penalty is a flogging, then release."

   "A flogging?  How do they do it?"

   "When St Johns put this law in place they decided to make the whipping
an old world punishment.  So they went back to the English tradition.  Men
get what is called "upper discipline" which is a lashing at a whipping post
with a cat-o-nine-tails delivered on the back.  Women get "lower
discipline" which is a birching like the kind used oh--I don't know, way
back when--in the days of Moll Flanders or something.  I know they had
something like this on some British isles until the 50's.  They use a bunch
of switches bound together and the strokes are applied to the
..er...bottom...which is quite bare at the time."

   Yeouch!  A bundle of switches.  "How many do they get?  Strokes I mean."

   "For drug possession like this, 2 or 3 dozen.  There is some discretion
on the part of the court.  I've been told it is very painful and the weals
take time to heal.  But they did make one change.  The implements that are
used are lighter by design so that there is less trauma to the skin.  You
may have heard that the old Isle Of Man birch was a pretty fearsome
scourge, and I've heard it was.  So they rejected that and opted for a
lighter thinner birch, but proportionately increased the number of strokes
so that the pain of the punishment was pretty intense.  And it lasts
longer. I've one client who was birched.  She said that the sting was
really intense, burning.  But she was ok afterwards.  This woman Susan, how
old is she?"

   I told Harriet she was 21.  That was why the girls had gone with her. 
It was her boyfriend who had the place down there--or his family did.  He
told me that made her an adult.  The penalty was 3 years in jail.  Also, I
thought about this.  If the three of them had been equally responsible they
would have been charged with simple possession.  They would have been
flogged, but they could have walked, with no jail time.  For a young woman
in her last year of college, the thought of spending three years in jail
must be pretty devastating.  I suddenly had an idea that came from some old
movie I'd seen on cable.

   "Harriet, has Susan gone to trial yet?"

   "Er, no, it comes up soon though."

   "What if Susan's two friends, Erin and Allison were to come back to St
Johns, admit responsibility, and testify that 2/3 of the pot was theirs?"

   Harriet thought a minute.  "They'd all be guilty of possession of less
than an ounce....I see where you are going, it might work.  If that's the
case they could plead out.  But do they know what they are getting into? 
If the prosecutor accepts the plea, he will no doubt invoke the CP law. 
They would all have to take floggings for the possession charges.  Will
they do that for their friend?"

   "They might, but would they be subject to punishment as adults?  These
girls are 18."

   "That puts them in a different category.  Juveniles are treated more
leniently."

   That sounded better.  "Like how much more leiniently?"

   "Under 21, the strokes are given with the correctional strap and it's
privately done in a special room at the prison.  Only the wardess actually
giving the strapping, the warden, the prisoner's attorney and a medical
officer and guards are allowed to be present.  I had a couple of juvenile
clients who got it, so I know.  I had to learn the procedure."

   "What?  Well what happens to adults?"

   "Oh.  That's outside in the prison courtyard.  Every con with a window
gets to see it.  As do all the prison personnel and any dignitary who cares
to show up.  There is a scaffold with a whipping post in the middle of the
yard.  It's like Tyburn, Lord Jeffries, the bloody assizes....  only
without the gallows."

   "Sounds intimidating."

   "Yes, let me tell you," Harriet replied, "we've got some real law and
order types that really believe in this corporal punishment treatment. 
They justify it by pointing to the fact that there is no permanent damage,
the criminal gets punished and they don't have to keep building jails."

   So Susan would get birched in the yard and the two girls would receive
the strap.  Erin wanted to help Susan.  I wondered though in light of their
experience the past weekend, if friendship went that far.  In a figurative
sense, Erin might have to take that walk out to the barn for a date with
the harness strap after all.  I asked Harriet to talk to Susan in jail. 
She had no representation.  Harriet could also sound out the prosecutor
about a possible deal.  I would talk to the girls who were due to go back
to UVA tommorrow.

   Then it was back to work.  The next glitch that day was a motion I had
to file.  Jane put the wrong court in the caption.  Luckily I caught it,
and told her pointedly to fix it.  I felt bad about growling at her, but
the sloppiness was driving me nuts.  I was surprised when at the end of the
day Jane knocked on my door.

   "Can I talk to you boss?" she asked hesitantly.

   "Yeah come in.  I won't bite your head off."

   "I don't know what's wrong with me today," she started, " I can't seem
to concentrate.  I'm really sorry."

   "It's ok," I said, "everybody has days.  You're forgiven.  But just be
more on the ball, ok?  Stuff like you did today can be embarassing at best
and disasterous at worst."

   She drew herself up and took a deep breath.  "Then I think you need to
give me something to help me remember to stay focused."

   "I don't have any magic pills, Jane."

   "I know, but there is something you need to do," she said mysteriously,
and, seeming to have made up her mind about something, walked resolutely
out.  I heard her lock the outer door.  Then I heard some clattering as
Jane fumbled for something in her desk drawer.  When she returned she was
holding an 18" ruler.

   Holding out the ruler she took a deep breath.  "If you want your
secretary to stop making stupid errors, you're going to have to correct her
bad habits.  I suggest you use this." He took the ruler from her hand and
she turned and bent over, hands on knees, thrusting out a delectable bottom
that strained against the confines of the tight skirt.

   I looked at the cute posterior and smacked the ruler in my hand while I
asked, "This is going to help you focus on the job?"

   "Yes, Boss.  I promise.  This lady needs a good spanking to make her
mind and pay attention."

   "Well, I do want to keep you...and I don't want a repeat of today...so I
guess I'll have to give you what you need."

   "Oh, yes, boss--please...and don't hold back."

   "Ok, Jane, but remember you asked for this," I said as I got up and
walked around the desk, hefting the ruler.  It was really too light to be a
serious punishment tool.  She wasn't going to feel this much--especially
over the skirt, thin as it was.  But then, it was what she wanted.  A
little drama.  The little minx had engineered this.  I should have seen it
coming.  The way she flirted with me after overhearing the call to Linnea,
her "volunteering" to witness the punishment of the girls--and showing up
with that paddle, the way she had watched the girls getting it...oh yeah..I
had noticed the hard nipples straining the front of her blouse, and finally
the repeated "mistakes" she had made today, they all convinced me that this
was a setup.  There was this need deep inside.  And once she had seen me
deal with the girls, she must have decided to pick me as her designated
disciplinarian.  Not that I minded, but I was a bit ticked about the way
she gone about it.  So I was going to give her her money's worth.

   I got to her side and with my left arm encircled her waist.  She gave
what I would describe as a delicious shudder as I tapped the ruler against
the drum taut posterior straining against her skirt.  Then, Smack!  Smack!
Crack!  I started whipping the ruler down on the crowns of the proffered
buttocks with firm steady strokes.  "OOh...ohh...ahhh..." Jane squeaked as
the ruler splatted against her hiney.  The way Jane wiggled I knew the
ruler stung through the thin skirt, which was rayon or something.  I could
see the panty line of French cut panties in her tight, bent over position.
After about 20 cracks of the ruler I decided to switch gears and get
serious.  Jane rose thinking we were done.

   "Yeow, boss.  That really stung!" she said rubbing her rear cheeks
through the thin material.

   "Oh, really?  Well march yourself over to that corner and face it while
I go get something." I commanded.

   Jane's jaw dropped in reaction to the order.  "Boss?  What..?"

   "Just get your little nose right in that corner!"

   Jane gulped, flustered, but she moved.  I went into the outer office and
retrieved her chair.  It swivelled and had no arms.  Dragging it into my
office, I spun it around in the center of the room and sat down.  Miss Jane
was about to find out what a hot stinging spanking was all about.

   "Jane, get over here." Jane reluctantly approached, hands on her hiney,
still rubbing.

   I guided her around to my right side and rolled up my sleeves.  Her eyes
got big as she watched.  Then I looked up.  "Jane, you wanted a spanking,
now you're gonna get one.  The thing is, spankings are 99% more effective
when given on the bare bottom as you observed Saturday night.  Now lift up
your skirt."

   "But boss, I..."

   "Lift your skirt now or my belt is coming off!"

   Jane gulped and tugged the tight skirt up.  She had to shimmy a bit to
get it up over her hips.  When she did, I was presented with a very nice
view of a black garter belt holding up her stockings along with French cut
black silk panties.  She had obviously dressed for the occasion.  I guided
her over my lap until she was jacknifed over my right knee, bottom pointed
at the ceiling, hands on the floor to my left, legs straight out to my
right.  Her lovely pert posterior was a classic teardrop shape, swelling
globes that spilled out of the edges of the skimpy panties.  Bands of pink
caused by the ruler laddered the exposed flesh.

   Jane gave a little wriggle as I rested my hand on her left cheek cupping
it.  "Ok, Jane, lift up a bit." She groaned with embarassment but lifted
her hips.  I tugged down the little panties until they fluttered at her
ankles.  Clamping my arm over her back and pulling her closer I said,
"Jane, I am now going to give you something that will help your
concentration immensely.  Remember this when you are sitting at your desk
tommorrow." Jane managed to choke a quavering, "yes, boss."

   Then I started to spank.  The smacks were deliberate and firm.  I
alternated sides.  Smack!  left cheek.  Smack!  right cheek.  The
bottomcheeks giggled.  Jane made little yipping noises as the spanks rained
down.  I stepped up the pace a bit, peppering her nude fanny with smacks
that echoed off the walls.  She wriggled.  She drummed her feet on the
floor.  "Ow, boss...  Smack!...yeow...Smack!...ooh that one hurt...Smack!
crack!...please, it stings...really!  Smack!  Spank!  Whap!  I gave her a
long rapid-fire barrage of crisp hard spanks that bounced off her well
reddened buns.  "Owwwweeeee!" She yelled arching her back and lifting her
feet off the floor.  Then I slowed down.  Smack!  "Do you think this will
help Jane?" Smack!  "Will you really try to avoid thoughtless mistakes?"
Smack!  "Ow...ow...ow!  Yes boss.  Please stop now?"

   "Ten more good hard ones Jane to really drive the point home," I said
rubbing the beet-red globes.  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Just as I raised my
hand again, I heard a key in the lock and the door was pushed open.  There
stood a middle-aged Hispanic lady in a bluish smock with a large
wastebasket on a trolley.  The cleaning lady!  Shit!

   Jane, however, maintained her composure.  She lifted her head, and said
very straightforwardly, "We are having a private conference, now.  Could
you please come back later?" The cleaning lady, her eyes bulging out of
their sockets, nodded dumbly, crossed herself and backed out of the room,
closing the door.  We heard the clattering of her cart as it receded down
the hall.

   "Where were we?" I said.  Unbelieveable.  "That was three," said Jane.
She was looking back at me tearfully.  "You were going to give me ten." "I
think under the circumstances, we are finished, Jane." There was silence
for a moment, then Jane said in a small voice, "I think you should finish
boss...finish what you said." Better give the lady what she needs, I
thought, and I laid on 7 more hard stingers that had Jane gasping and
writhing over my lap.

   Jane moaned softly as I rubbed her flaming hiney.  I could see
glistening in the furry patch between her legs.  She responded to my caress
by humping her hips up and down.  My fingers found her warm wetness and she
moaned louder, "Oh, yes, bossss....please." I slipped one finger in---then
two.  With my encircling arm I reached around and found her clit. 
Massaging her clitty with one hand and finger-fucking her with the other,
it wasn't long before she shuddered in a violent wracking orgasm.

   I let her slip to the floor on her knees.  She moaned softly massaging
her inflamed rear and rested her head in my lap.  Then she brought her
hands up, lifted her head and deftly reached for my zipper.  She pulled my
zipper down and reached in to grasp my penis which by this time was as hard
as a rock and threatening to burst from the confines of my pants.  She
pulled it, and it popped out, pointing straight up.  Jane regarded it for a
moment.  Then she raised her head and looked wistfully into my eyes. 
"Shall I go ahead boss?  I think you need this after giving me such a
throrough spanking---and what you you did after." I nodded and she lowered
her head to the turgid shaft.  A shock wave of pure pleasure passed through
me as I felt her lips engage the head.  Then it slipped between those lips
and slid into her warm wet mouth.  She sucked in long slow pulls at first,
dragging her lips the length of my shaft before letting it nearly pop out
of her sweet mouth before doing it again.  Then she sort of bobbed up and
down and swirled her tongue around.  She sucked harder after awhile and the
bobbing motion became faster.  Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me
as my accomplished fellatrix worked her lips and tongue on my cock.  I
gripped her shoulders as I started to cum.  I thought I would rise up out
of the chair, I came so hard.  Jane kept her head down and gulped the gism
that filled her mouth.

   When it was over I slumped back in the chair.  Jane rocked back on her
heels for a moment, then in a very businesslike way, rose, adjusted her
clothing, and stood before me.  "Boss, I..." she started, but I interrupted
her.  "It's ok, Jane---look neither one of us knew..."

   "But Boss, I did.  I knew from Saturday night.  I wanted you to treat me
like your niece and her friend--I was so turned on by you spanking them...I
wanted to see for myself," she said haltingly, eyes downcast.  The
admission shamed her.

   "It's ok Jane," I reassured her but at the same time I thought, what
does this mean now?  "Jane, I have to ask you--do you still want to work
for me?"

   "Oh, yes!  I do.  And I'll really do my best, not like today.  But
boss?" she said questioningly.  "Yes?" I lifted my eyebrows.  "If I really
do screw up...you can...what I mean is...I want you to punish me.  Will
you?" "After tonight, I don't see any other way, " I smiled.  "And
Jane,..."

   "Yes, Boss?"

   "Bring that paddle of yours to work with you tommorrow, ok?"

   Life was getting interesting.