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Subject: {ASSM} Twelve Days a Slave 11 of 13     non-consensual, slavery, painslut, public spanking, public nudity, public humiliation, public punishment
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Date: Sat, 16 Apr 2016 07:11:52 -0400
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Twelve Days a Slave 11 of 13
by
The Technician

non-consensual, slavery, painslut, public spanking, public nudity,
public humiliation, public punishment

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

There is no way slave missy can win this lottery.

This is the story of a young woman's conviction as a terrorist and
what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal
slavery is not impossible. The thirteenth and fourteenth amendments to
the constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit
slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other
words, the constitution allows penal slavery.

After the woman is convicted, a "sentence negotiator" gets her
sentence reduced to a public day of repentance followed by eleven days
of public punishment. Following that, she is to serve one year of
penal servitude.

This story deals with non-consensual punishment, pain, and involuntary
slavery. If such topics offend you or upset you, I would advise
skipping this particular book.

There are thirteen chapters to this story. The chapters can be read on
their own, but the story is much better understood if the previous
portions have been read. The complete story is full book length. I
debated publishing it with some of my other books at Fiction4all, but
decided that I would rather serialize it and post it here.

A description of the thirteen chapters follows the end of each
chapter. The ninth day of punishment is a lottery. The public is given
the chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Eight lucky winners each
get to give her five swats with a special paddle. One lucky winner
gets to finish the forty-six required for her punishment by laying six
swats of the paddle across missy's ass.

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

WARNING!  All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18
ONLY.  Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content.  All
people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations,
and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real
life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference
between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province,
nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts
depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to
somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if
acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is
included with the article.  This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The
Technician ( Technician666@Gmail.Com. )

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this
story for personal, non-commercial use.  Production of multiple copies
of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly
forbidden.

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician}
The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639
Senior Project  http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753
Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160
I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
 * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Chapter Eleven - On the ninth day of punishment, a lottery gives the
public a chance to paddle the repentant terrorist.

Missy awoke early. She wasn't sure why. It was still dark and there
was no smell of coffee or bacon, but the slight rocking of the RV told
her that William was up front. She padded out to see what was going
on. William was sitting at the kitchen table working on his computer. 

"What are you doing?" she asked.

William grimaced at her and said, "Grading homework."

"What?" she replied.

There are twenty-five winners to our lottery. Each has submitted a
short essay to the webpage saying why they should be the one to
deliver the final six spanks with the wooden paddle.

"Oh," missy said. "That's what the lottery was all about."

"Yes," said William. "One winning ticket equals five swats with the
paddle. Except the first place winner, he or she gets the last six
swats.

Missy's eyes went wide, "Twenty-five!" she blurted out. "That means
over a hundred swats! One hundred twenty-five swats will turn my ass
into hamburger!"

"Whoa, whoa, missy," he quickly replied. "That includes the undercard.
You will receive the standard forty-six. But before the main event-
that's you- there are three slaves who will be punished with twenty
swats each, and two volunteers. One is a man from the stage crew who
wants to use this occasion to come out as a painslut. The other is a
painslut wife who has this fantasy of her husband spanking her to
orgasm in front of a large crowd. She's been here every day imagining
herself up on stage. She really shouldn't count in the number of
winners because it will be her husband swinging the paddle.

"It's still forty-six swats with a wooden paddle," she pouted. "I got
ten with the wood yesterday and they hurt like hell. How am I going to
stand forty-six?"

"You will," William said as he stroked her face. "I have a few
surprises of my own for today. I can't promise that it won't hurt, but
it won't hurt near as much as it did yesterday."

Missy looked up at him with wide, questioning eyes, and he said
softly, "You are just going to have to trust me on this." He held her
chin in his hand and said, "Have I not protected you as much as
possible up to this point?"

She nodded her head.

"Go do your morning routine," he said. "I'll have breakfast waiting
for you by the time you get back."

Since it was early, they had time for a very leisurely breakfast.
William even cut his eggs in half before shoveling them into his
mouth.

They were still running early when they made their morning parade lap
through the town so William circled the square four times to kill time
before heading back to the fairgrounds. As the crew was attaching the
cable to the top of her cage, William said, "Don't worry about what is
going to happen today. Think about something else to take your mind
off it while you are hanging around waiting."

"I will," she answered as her cage began to rise into the air. Once
the cage was clear of the stage, the crew began assembling the
equipment needed for the day. Missy watched as they put together five
wooden punishment benches. They were the standard padded bench with a
kneeler so that the person receiving the punishment could be strapped
down on their knees with their body bent over the main portion of the
bench. The height of the bench was adjustable so that the person's
shoulders ended up lower than their hips, forcing their ass up into
the air.

On the side of each bench, a highly-polished wooden paddle, about
three inches wide and an inch thick, hung by a leather strap from a
wooden peg. The paddle looked very familiar to missy. She rubbed her
ass as she remembered the ten swats she had received at the end of her
fourth wrestling match the day before.

After all five stations were set up, the crew rolled a cart out onto
the stage with the parts for another bench. Missy knew that this bench
would be different. For one thing, the pieces were much larger. For
another, the wood was all painted a very dark black. The finish,
whatever it was, was so shiny that every surface looked almost like a
black mirror.

After the wood was in place, the crew attached black, soft leather
pads to the kneeler and main bench. They also bolted in place matching
black restraints for her ankles and wrists and a very wide black belt
which would go over her back to hold her perfectly in place.

"It's like watching someone build your gallows," she said silently to
herself.

She did not remain quiet, however, when they brought out the paddle.
Her loud gasp could be heard up to the top row of the grandstands.

Missy had reason to gasp. Unlike the five paddles in front of the
stage, the paddle intended for her had a very shiny black finish. It
was also much larger, almost six inches across and two inches thick. A
small cable of some sort came out of the end of the handle and snaked
its way off stage to where the recording engineer sat at his console.
She cringed as she thought of that massive hunk of wood slamming into
her ass.			

"Think of something else. Think of something else. Think of something
else." she kept telling herself. But all she could think of was that
huge black paddle smacking against her ass flesh.

"I guess you could call this escape sex," she said to herself as she
braced herself against the back of the cage. Her eyes closed as her
fingers began stroking her breasts. She moaned slightly as one hand
moved down between her legs. Today she wasn't seeking a plateau of
pleasure. She was seeking an orgasm of escape.

"There is a certain freedom in slavery," she thought to herself as her
hands took her higher. "I don't have to worry about what people think
of me for masturbating in public. They already think of me as a slave.
I'm not really a person in their eyes. Normal rules and morality don't
apply to me anymore. As long as I don't disobey my Master, I can do
just about anything in public."

In fact, it helped with her arousal to think of the fact that the
stagecrew and anyone in the audience who had arrived early were
watching her as she began to writhe in pre-orgasmic ecstacy. Anyone
who had not noticed what she was doing was made aware by the loud
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" which echoed through the arena with her first
orgasm. She didn't stop there, however, and continued pumping with her
hand until she had climaxed twice more.

Her sweat made her body glisten even more as she panted and gasped in
post-orgasmic recovery. "That took my mind off things for a while,"
she said aloud as she relaxed back against the bars. "Now all I have
to do is to keep the fire glowing." For the remaining time she
continued to stroke herself very slowly while keeping her eyes closed
to shut out the frightful sight of the waiting black, shiny punishment
bench and its matching huge black paddle.

At two o'clock, William's voice broke through the wall her mind had
erected to keep out reality. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "today
we reveal the winners to our lottery." He paused for dramatic effect,
and continued, "Today, eight of our lucky winners will get to deliver
five swats of punishment directly to the repentant terrorist's ass."

He paused once again, this time to wait out the extended cheers and
applause. "That only adds up to forty," he said dramatically. "Our
winner with the best reason for delivering punishment to our little
terrorist's ass will be given the privilege of finishing her off with
the final six strokes." He again had to wait out the raucous crowd.

"In addition," he continued, holding up his hands for silence. "In
addition, twelve third-place winners will be given the task of helping
to punish three very deserving, disobedient slaves. Three more
second-place winners will get the pleasure of helping a young man out
himself as a painslut. And one very fortunate husband will get to
fulfill his wife's ultimate fantasy."

The crowd again began applauding wildly as three slaves were led to
the first three benches on the track in front of the stage. Two of the
slaves were female, one was male. All three were totally hairless.
Their bodies were well-greased so that the lights reflected off of
them as they were led into place by large security officers.

"Those chains are a bit of overkill," missy thought to herself. "They
are way larger than they have to be. And that collar would hold back
an elephant. Doesn't anyone realize how fakey those look?" She raised
her arm to point down at the slaves as she spoke. As she did so, her
own chains rattled and caught her attention. "God!" she exclaimed as
she suddenly realized, "Their chains are smaller than mine!" She
smiled and said aloud, "But the crowd is eating it up. William, you
are a master showman."

Six more very muscular security people walked out to place the three
slaves into their restraints. Two female officers removed the chains
and collar from the male slave and dragged him kicking and screaming
to the second bench. He continued to struggle as they pushed him to
his knees and strapped his ankles in place.  They then pushed his
knees slightly more apart and pulled the leather straps across the
back of his shins. They next pushed his body over the main part of the
bench and pulled the wide leather strap across his back. He began
wildly flailing his arms, but with his legs and body already held
tightly in place, there was little he could do to prevent the two
women from pulling his hands down to the front restraint bar and
strapping them in place.

One of the security women then turned a small metal wheel beneath the
high portion of the bench, raising it another two or three inches into
the air. The result was that his body was pulled even tighter and his
ass was tilted further up into the air. His balls could be seen
hanging down beneath his ass, but fear had evidently caused so much
shrinkage that his prick was nowhere to be seen. The two women, as
well as the security man who had led the slave out, then walked away
and circled around behind the stage. 

The remaining two pairs of security men synchronized their actions as
they put the two female slaves into the first and third benches. "They
had to have practiced that," missy thought as she watched from above.
"The chains hit the ground at the same time. Every restraint was
closed exactly together. They even twisted the adjustment wheels
exactly the same amount... and the two girls are different heights."

Missy began to wonder how much of the first slave's attempts to resist
were also rehearsed. She even wondered if these slaves were truly
being punished or had been hired for the event with some promise of
special treatment or time off. "Nothing in my world is ever what it
seems to be," she said softly to herself. "Or has it always been that
way and now that I am just a slave I can see things the way they truly
are?"

"Let's bring out our first three winners," William said grandly from
the stage as three men walked out from behind the stage. Each one
stood behind one of the three slaves. "Remember," William instructed,
"five swats and then you put the paddle back on the hook." He waited
for the three to pick up their paddles and get into position before
saying, "Begin."

The three wielding the paddles had obviously not rehearsed. It also
looked like they had little, if any, previous experience swinging the
paddles. The one striking the male slave was barely hitting him.
Perhaps he hadn't thought about the fact that he might be spanking a
male's ass rather than a female's and it bothered him. In any case, he
just didn't put his weight into the swing. One of the other men seemed
to be swinging about right, and the third was swinging way too hard.

All three slaves were responding slightly differently to the swats.
The first girl screamed  loudly with each swat; the male made loud
grunting noises; the third girl, who was being slammed the hardest,
responded to each hit with a loud "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh."

As the winners were setting the paddles back in place, William's voice
once again came over the speakers. "The rest of our participants
waiting back stage might want to listen carefully to this," he began.
"I guess we should have done some instruction and practice in the art
of swinging a wooden paddle." The crowd laughed quietly in response.

A stagehand hustled across the stage and handed him a paddle the same
size and shape as those on the spanking benches. "First off," he said,
"you need to hold the paddle relaxed in your hand so that the force of
the blow doesn't transfer to your arm." He swung the paddle at an
imaginary target. "But at the same time, you need to hold it firmly
enough to transfer the force of the swing to the recipient's ass."

He laughed as he held the paddle before him. "And how do you know
where that sweet spot is?" he asked. "Use your ears. Listen to the
smack. You want just enough to make it pop." He held the paddle up and
swung it through the air, "You might think that swinging it harder
would make it hurt even worse, but that isn't always true. With a
solid paddle like this, if you hit too hard, you trap air between the
surface of the paddle and the person's flesh. That lessens the
transfer of force to the ass- that's why some paddles have holes in
them."

He swung the paddle once more, "And even if that doesn't happen and
you actually transfer the full effect of a really hard swing, you will
more than likely overload the nerves in the ass.  You might do a lot
of damage, but you won't cause near the amount of pain that a lesser
hit would cause. Remember you are trying to hurt, not harm, the slave.
You want a chastised slave, not a damaged slave."

Three more winners walked out from behind the stage. This time two of
them were women, one was not much more than a teenager while the other
appeared to be at least fifty years old. The male was somewhere in
between. When they picked up the paddles, the grandmother looking lady
turned to the crowd and said, "I taught high school for thirty-five
years before I retired and every day I dreamed of doing this to some
of my disruptive students. This is for all you active teachers out
there who have that same dream."

The crowd roared with laughter and applause. "OK, OK," William said
from the stage. "Remember five strokes, then put the paddles back."

The youngest woman was in the first position. She seemed to know how
to swing a paddle and the female slave yelped very loudly with each
strike. Her "Aieee" became louder, longer, and higher-pitched with
each strike.

The granny was swatting the male slave. She also seemed to know her
way around a paddle and applied each swat very deliberately. Her smile
grew wider and wider with each stroke. By the third strike, the male
slave's grunts had become actual cries of pain.

The man in the third position looked much more amateurish in his
delivery, but the loud "Smack!" of the paddle proclaimed that he was
still able to strike very efficiently. The crowd could see that the
young female slave's ass was growing very, very red under the assault.
Some, sitting in the right place in the stands or directly behind the
slave in the ground seats, could also see that moisture was collecting
between the slave's legs. Her cries of "Oh, oh, oh, OH, OH!" also
hinted at the fact that she was most likely a painslut who was
sexually excited by the spanking."

After all three had finished their five swats, they replaced the
paddles and returned to behind the stage. As they walked back three
more winners- two men and one woman- were walking out to take their
place. The woman who was first to walk out, stopped behind the male
slave. The two men then took their places behind the female slaves.

This time, there was no instruction from William. The three just
picked up the paddles and began swatting. The woman had perfect form
with the paddle. On each strike, the male cried out loudly, "Aahhh.
Aahhh. Aahhh. Aahhh. Aahhhiieeee!" She smiled as she heard him break
into an almost female cry of pain. The two men, meanwhile, delivered
their swats. The first female slave continued to scream in pain while
the third continued her noisy journey toward a possible orgasm.

When the five swats were completed, the three returned back stage and
three different winners took their place. This time all three wielding
the paddles were women. They did not all begin swinging together, but
instead the second two waited patiently while the first finished off
her slave.

The first woman stood slightly to the side and swung the paddle with
both hands, but she had very accurate control over her force and aim.
The paddle landed squarely on both ass cheeks with a resounding
"Thwack!" on every smack. The female slave twisted and thrashed in the
restraints, but was unable to avoid the paddle. Her final
"Aiiiieeeeeeeeee!" echoed through the stands for several moments after
the paddle had been returned to its hook.

The woman left, leaving the other two standing with their paddles. The
second woman then began swatting the male slave. She also swung
two-handed, but her aim was not quite as good and the timing of the
swats way too close together. Despite this, the male slave was crying
out a very high-pitched "Aiieee" by the time the paddle had bounced
off his ass for the fifth time.

After she left, the third woman stepped up to the panting female slave
and gently rubbed the paddle across her swollen ass cheeks. The slave
responded with a throaty, "Ahhhhh," as she slowly writhed in her
restraints. The woman then stepped back and swung once like she was
swinging a tennis racket. There was a very loud "Smack!" and the
painslut slave grunted out an equally loud "Oohhaahh." A second stroke
followed a moment later and the slave responded with slightly more
writhing and an even louder "Oohhaahh." The third and fourth strike
seemed to pump the slave's responses higher and higher.

The woman with the paddle turned to face the crowd. She stood there
quietly smiling and waving slightly while the slave made pitiful
noises behind her. She seemed to be waiting for something. Finally the
slave cried out, "Please! Finish me! Finish me! Make me cum!"

The woman's smile widened as her arm moved suddenly in a tennis
backhand that brought the paddle down exactly across the needy slave's
ass cheeks. She then put the paddle back in place and walked
backstage.

The slave gave a very, very loud "Oohhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh" which
seemed to go on for a very long time. Then she began thrashing wildly
in her bonds and crying out, "Aiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee" as her orgasm
overwhelmed her.

The crowd responded with a standing ovation. William called for all
twelve of the winners to come out on stage with him and then had them
bow to the crowd. The applause and cheering continued long after the
twelve had again left the stage.

After the crowd had finally quieted, William said, "You have just
witnessed that what one person experiences as pain, another might find
pleasurable. Our next paddling is not a punishment. It is a coming
out- no pun intended- for one of our stage crew. He has been a secret
painslut for many years. Tonight he steps out of the closet and onto
the spanking bench."

As he spoke a young, thin, black male walked out from behind the
stage. He was totally naked, but unlike the slaves before him, he
retained all of his body hair. He positioned himself on the spanking
bench and then waited passively while one of the female security
people strapped him firmly in place. Like the male slave in the first
round, his balls were very visible between his slightly spread legs.
Unlike that slave, however, his partially erect prick was also clearly
visible. 
All five winners for this round walked out from behind the stage
together and stood in a line behind his naked ass.

Three of the winners were female, two were male. The males were at the
head of the line. The first man picked up the paddle and gave it a
practice swing. Then standing slightly to the side of the painslut, he
delivered five equally-spaced strikes squarely on the young man's ass.
The first strike brought an obvious cry of pain. But the "Aiiee" of
the first strike slowly morphed into an equally loud, but softer
"Aaahh," but the time the fifth strike landed.

While the paddle was changing hands, William said to the crowd, "I
call your attention to the video projection on the back wall of the
stage." The crowd looked up to see video feed from beneath the
painslut. His prick looked enormous on the screen and it bobbed up and
down as small droplets of pre-cum gathered on its tip.

The next winner stepped up. He also gave a practice swing before
beginning. His swats were not equally spaced, however. He seemed to
wait for the slut's ass cheeks to unclench before delivering the next
blow. It was obvious from the bound young man's cries- and the amount
of pre-cum oozing from his prick- that he was continuing to be turned
on by the spanking.

The first of the three women then took the paddle. She delivered her
swats extremely fast. So fast, in fact, that the painslut's body
reacted almost as if it were one swat.

The second woman paused to get a feel for the paddle. She swung it
back and forth several times before stepping into place slightly to
the side of the spanking bench. Then she drew back and swung in a
sweeping arc all the way until impact. His cry of "Aieeeaaahhh"
proclaimed that she had properly "followed through" on the swat,
allowing the force to be transferred to the paddle after that first
instant of impact.

Her next four swats, at apparently random intervals, were similarly
effective. He responded both to the pain and to the sexual excitement
that pain created. His prick was now bobbing wildly. It was apparent
to most of the crowd that he was very close to climax.

The final winner accepted the paddle from the second woman. She also
took a moment to get a feel for it, but rather than swinging it, she
bounced it several times against her right hand. She was evidently
left-handed because that was the hand in which she held the paddle.

She stepped into place and swung in a fluid motion that landed the
paddle directly in the middle of the slut's ass cheeks. After a pause,
she again struck, this time slightly above center of the swollen
cheeks. The young painslut was now moaning loudly. She slammed the
paddle again against his ass and the projected image suddenly became
blurred as he ejaculated onto the camera lens.

The woman waited patiently for the young painslut to quit thrashing
with his orgasm and then brought the paddle down once again. This time
there was no passion component to the scream as a loud
"Aiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee" resounded through the stands. After a short
pause, she delivered her final swat which created an even louder and
more shrill, "Aiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!"

As the winners walked back to behind the stage, William chuckled
slightly, "Well, he's out of the closet," he said. "And I think he has
learned a very valuable lesson about the difference between male and
female painsluts."

He paused until the crowd became silent and asked, "How many of you
know what difference I am referring to?"

There was a loud buzzing as various people told those around them what
they thought he meant.

"When a female painslut orgasms," he said loudly, "she is still
sexually excited. She can possibly even go on to another orgasm if the
pain continues." He shook his head and said softly, "But when a male
painslut orgasms, his body drops out of arousal and no longer produces
endorphins or other responses that turn pain into pleasure. Any pain
following ejaculation is only pain."

As the stage crew helped the young man to stagger to back behind the
stage, William finished with, "That's why the normal rule for a
partner of a male painslut is `Pain until he pops. After care begins
immediately after that.'"

William looked to stage right to watch a couple walking out from
behind the stage. He was dressed in a tuxedo while she was dressed in
a sequined evening dress. "I need to remind you that what is about to
happen is this woman's fantasy. She wrote the script on this. We are
doing nothing that she has not consented to. In fact, although she
didn't give the specific details, everything that happens was
requested by her."

As soon as William finished his explanation, six masked men- who
except for the masks were dressed identically to the security people
from earlier- rushed out of the shadows and grabbed the woman. She
screamed for her husband to help, but he responded loudly. "Why should
I help you? I am the one who hired these men. Tonight you are going to
get what you deserve and everyone is going to see it happen."

The men dragged her over in front of the last spanking bench and began
tearing the dress from her body. Beneath the dress she was wearing
dark stockings held up by a garter belt and a matching set of black
panties and bra. Two of the men held her arms over the top of the
spanking bench while the other two positioned her stocking clad knees
on the lower padded kneeler. Once her legs were strapped firmly in
place, the two men holding her arms stretched them down to the front
restraining bar and cuffed them in place. They then adjusted the
height to pull her tightly in place, but they did not strap down her
body with the large strap that would have gone over her lower back.

She bucked and twisted in her restraints and screamed, "How can you do
this to me!? People can see me!"

"Oh!" her husband roared back, "You are afraid that people can see
you? Then why don't we just give them something to see?"

He then made a show of opening an overly-large pocket knife and began
cutting his wife's bra from her body. One quick cut up the back and
then a swipe at each of the straps and the shiny black band of cloth
fluttered to the ground.

"Noooooooooooo!" she screamed. "They can see my tits!"

"They'll see more than that in just a moment," he said as he slipped
the tip of the knife beneath the side of her black, french-cut
panties. He pulled outward and the fabric fell open on one side. He
repeated the motion on the other side and the fabric flapped open in
the front and back, but would not drop because it was held in place by
her garter belt which was holding up her stockings.

"Oh," he said dramatically, "I guess that will have to go, too." He
then reached up and cut each of the suspender straps and then the back
of the garter belt. The elastic band popped loose around her waist.
One of the masked men reached in and grabbed it. She screamed shrilly
as it was pulled from beneath her stomach. Her husband then reached up
from behind and pulled the tattered remains of her panties from
between her legs.

Somehow, she looked more naked with her stocking drooping on her legs
than the slaves had with no clothing at all on their bodies. Her wild
gyrations while she screamed and thrashed were also much more obscene
than had been the fully-restrained struggles of the previous
inhabitants of the spanking bench.

"Do you know how many swats you are going to get with this paddle?"
her husband asked ominously.

"No," she answered back. Then she began begging, "Please don't do this
to me in public. I would never be able to stand the shame. Please,
please, please."

William's voice inserted itself between her cries and her husband's
next comments. "Her safe word is `rutabaga'" he said softly. "If she
even whispers that, all of this will stop."

Her husband seemed to wait for him to finish his announcement before
screaming, "You deserve this! You deserve all of this! You have been
asking for this all year with your bad behavior and now I am going to
spank your ass in front of all of these people until you cum at least
twice."

"Nooooo!" she cried out, but even the most dense person in the
audience could tell that the shakiness in her voice was cause by
arousal, not fear.

The husband then stepped into proper position and swung the first blow
with the wooden paddle. He knew what a paddle was and how to use it.
The wood landed with a resounding  "Smack!" against the skin of her
ass. Her voice cried out in a loud "Aieeeee!"

"The first one always hurts, no matter what," missy thought as she
watched from above. She noticed, however, that the wayward wife did
not clench her ass cheeks in anticipation of the next smack. In fact,
the muscles of her legs were totally relaxed as she opened herself up
to the impact and the pain that would follow.

"Smack!" the second blow sounded. Someone in the audience yelled out,
"Yeah, give it to her." She screamed slightly, but her cry was already
changing from the "Aieee" of pain to the "Aaah" of passion.

Between the smacks, her ass bounced wildly. For a proper spanking, she
should have been held tightly in place, but evidently she knew that
her wild motions would display her sex more lewdly to the crowd. She
also knew that she was opening and closing herself in her gyrations
almost as if she were intentionally twerking for the crowd. The
movements made it even more obvious that her hairy snatch and the
insides of her thighs were quickly becoming coated with her love
juices.

"Smack!" the husband continued his relentless assault on his wife's
ass. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" His pace was slow and
deliberate. He was giving enough time for the full measure of pain to
spread through her body before layering on another swat. Meanwhile her
outcry had changed to a low moaning wail which increased slightly in
volume with each blow of the paddle.

"Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" Her ass was making wild circles
in the air, coming up to meet the paddle with each swing. Her wail was
starting to break up into a series of high pitched grunts and squeals.
"Oh, ah, oh, ah," she was almost chanting as the paddle struck again
and again.

"Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" She was now raising her ass to
meet the paddle and then slamming her front down hard onto the padded
bench. Each time her sopping cunt hit the bench she would grind
forward pressing herself hard against the now slick leather.

"Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" Her cry changed to "Harder,
harder, harder, harder, harder" as she followed her own orders and
slammed herself harder and harder against the leather of the bench.

Suddenly she stiffened and arched her back as much as she could with
her arms held low beneath her. She raised her head and thrust her ass
up toward the paddle as she burst forth into a high-pitched scream of
passion.

"Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" the husband continued pounding
away with the paddle. His wife was now flopping like a fish out of
water as she arched and straighten her back and wailed out her
orgasmic cry.

"Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" She totally stiffened. Her body
was quivering and shaking against the pads as her hands and legs
pulled strongly against their restraints.

"Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" She was making no sound at all
now. Her back was again beginning to arch as she threw her head far
back so that she could breath in greater and greater quantities of
air.

"Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" She exploded into a second
orgasm. Her ass was pumping up and down furiously as she slammed her
cunt into the leather. Her face was making circles in the air as she
shook wildly and screamed out incoherently.

"Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" Her husband gave her several more
hard swats with the paddle and then stepped back, breathing hard from
exertion. She thrashed and screamed for another moment or two and then
collapsed senseless against the leather of the bench.

The crowd stood and cheered and applauded and stomped their feet.
Several of the security crew came back out front. Their masks from the
beginning of this fantasy were hanging loose around their necks. Four
of them quickly released the restraints from the wife's arms and legs.
They then picked her up under their arms and carried her backstage
still unconscious. The husband followed along behind them, still
carrying the paddle which had fulfilled his wife's erotic fantasy.

William waited for the crowd to settle and said, "Now it's time to
complete today's punishment of our repentant terrorist." He pointed to
the spanking bench on the stage. "You will notice that this restraint
bench is a larger than the ones used up to this point." He held up the
paddle and said with a deep chuckle, "So is the paddle."

Holding the paddle with the handle upright, he said, "And you will
notice that there is a thin video cable attached to the handle of this
paddle." Pointing to the wide end of the paddle, he said, "There is a
small video camera embedded in the tip of this paddle. If you watch
the projection on the back wall of the stage during this punishment,
you will see a paddle's eye view of an ass being thoroughly punished."

That comment was greeted with shouts and applause. "So," he continued,
"let's get our little terrorist in place and bring out our next
winner."

Missy's cage descended to the stage. William unlocked the huge padlock
on the door and opened it so missy could step out. He then slowly and
carefully removed the collar and shackles and finally the manacles
which held her wrists. He followed behind her as she slowly walked
over to the bench and put herself in position.

Four female security officers came out and began strapping her in
place. These four were nowhere near as burly as the security people
from earlier. William had selected them for their looks, not their
skill. He knew that missy would give them no problem.

Once she was firmly in place, William announced, "Our ninth runner up
is Harriet Anderson."

A middle-aged woman in tight pants and a halter top bounced out onto
the stage. "I've always wanted to be on the other side of the paddle,"
she bubbled. The audience laughed.

"Remember," instructed William, "just hard enough to make a loud pop
is the most painful." He then handed her the paddle.

She stood behind missy for several seconds swinging the paddle like a
baseball player awaiting the first pitch. The image projected on the
back wall showed the intended target. Then she swung two-handed and
slammed the paddle into missy's ass. It made a very loud "Smack!" and
missy gave an equally loud screech.

The woman swung four more times in quick succession and then stood
panting with the paddle in her hand. It was hard to tell if it was
from exertion or if she had been that turned on by swinging the
paddle. Missy, meanwhile, wailed in pain.

"Thank you, Harriet," William boomed out as he took the paddle from
her hands. The audience gave her a short round of applause and then he
announced, "Our eighth runner up is Raul Rodriguez."

An Hispanic gentlemen stepped onto the stage and William handed him
the paddle. He made no attempt to warm up, but instead immediately
began swatting missy's ass. Each of his blows resounded throughout the
arena and missy yelped slightly louder with each swat. She had tried
to go into the pain, but each winner had a different style and it
takes several swings to get into the pain. Missy was starting over
every five swats.

Again the crowd gave a short round of applause for his efforts and
William announced the next winner. This continued until the second
runner up had completed her turn with the paddle.  William then turned
to the crowd and said, "Our grand prize winner- the one who gets to
apply the final six strokes of punishment to our repentant terrorist-
is Alexander Berkman. His essay about the fact that his wife lost her
job at one of the companies whose computers were affected by this
terrorist won him the right to finish her off on this day of
punishment."

He stretched out his hand and said, "Welcome Mister Berkman to our
stage."

A young man in his mid-twenties walked out onto the stage. His dark
hair and beard were very neatly trimmed. He took the paddle from
William and then began to position himself properly behind missy.
Before he actually began swinging, he leaned in very close and said
softly to her, "Hello, Vicki. I hope you appreciated using my program
as much as I did creating it."

It was Jarred! The final winner was the young man who had duped Vicki,
now slave missy, into inserting the virus on the store's computers.

He laughed softly as he stepped back into position with the paddle.
The audience watched on the projection screen as the paddle zeroed in
and slammed down very hard on missy's already red and swollen ass. He
struck five more times at a measure pace. It wasn't slow, but it
wasn't hurried. Missy was screaming at the top of her lungs. She was
screaming, "It's him! It's him! It's him! It's him!" but with the roar
of the crowd her voice was unintelligible.

After the sixth blow, he turned and faced the crowd. William came over
to shake his hand and congratulate him on a job well done. He smiled
in satisfaction that he once more had rubbed everyone's face in his
brilliance and cunning. As William took his hand, however, he suddenly
shook violently and dropped to the ground.

Several men in black uniforms with protective vests that said
"Homeland Security," rushed onto the stage. William turned to face the
startled crowd. "I want to thank Homeland Security for the loan of
this marvelous hand tazer," he said as he held up his right hand
displaying a bright silver disk in his palm.

"Lying on the stage in front of you," he began to explain, "is an
unrepentant terrorist. I won't say his true name because I don't want
to add to his fame. But he is the one who wrote the virus slave missy
was convicted of planting on her store's computer."

The officers had Jarred's arms tightly cinched behind his back and
were marching him offstage as William continued, "He had the arrogance
to enter our little lottery... and the technical hacking skills to
make sure that he was one of the twenty-five finalists. He wrote a
very convincing essay to insure that he would be in at least the top
nine and get to apply his paddle to missy's ass."

He shook his head as he- and the audience- watched Jarred being loaded
into an armored vehicle of some sort. He then continued, "But pride
often leads to stupidity. The name he chose, Alexander Berkman, was a
rather famous anarchist in the early 1900s."

He turned to watch as the security babes began to release missy from
her restraints. "He forgot that big brother is always listening on the
internet. That name was flagged and its use triggered an
investigation."

He helped missy to her feet and then turned back to the crowd to say,
"I am sure you will be seeing more of Alex Berkman- or whatever his
slave name ends up being- in the near future."

The crowd stared back in stunned silence for several moments as what
William had just explained sank in. Then they erupted in an extremely
loud cheer that continued as he helped missy into the cage and closed
the door. Before the cage rose into the air, he said softly, "I've
known since early this morning. I couldn't risk telling you in case
you panicked and scared him off." He paused and then said, almost
defensively, "... and I had to let him swing the paddle. You've come
too far for this to all get thrown out because a day wasn't taken
properly to completion."  

Missy just smiled weakly at him and grabbed hold of the bars of the
cage to steady herself as it rose into the air.

An hour later, William returned with the ATV and trailer and hauled
her back to the RV. When the got there, she went immediately to her
bedroom and lay face down on the bed. Her ass was very, very, very
red; very, very sore; and very swollen.

A few minutes later William came in to apply the healing ointment that
would take away the pain. "It looks a lot worse than it actually is,"
he said softly. "A couple of applications of this and you will be good
as new."

Missy turned her head to look at him. "Why," she asked, "didn't it
hurt as much as I thought it would?"

"Larger is not always harder," he replied. "The paddle was bigger, and
slightly heavier, which meant that the people swung it slightly slower
and that there was a bigger surface area in contact with your skin
when it hit. The reason a cane hurts so bad is that it is small and it
is light so you can whip it through the air." He laughed slightly,
"Besides," he continued, "the paddle was a slapstick."

"I didn't think it was very funny," she huffed back.

"Slapstick means funny," he replied, "because in the really old days,
vaudeville comedians would hit people with a big wooden paddle that
made a lot of noise, but didn't really hurt. That's because it was
actually two very thin paddles separated by an equally thin air space.
What the audience actually heard was the two paddles- or sticks-
slapping together. It was a slap stick. That huge paddle has a slap
stick built into it and a microphone alongside the camera to pick up
the noise."

"The paddle was a fake?" she said incredulously.

"Not a fake," he replied, "just augmented so it made more noise that
expected."

"And you kept telling people to hit only hard enough to make a loud
smack," she said, raising up slightly from the bed. "Were the other
paddles also slapsticks?" she asked.

"No," he answered, "they were totally real. But those people don't
have another show tomorrow."

She relaxed back onto the bed while he continued smearing the salve on
her bruised behind. "That tazer thing you zapped Jarred with was real,
too, wasn't it?" she asked sleepily.

"Very real," he answered. "And so were the agents from Homeland
Security. That boy has angered a lot of very important people. I think
the courts will be very harsh on him."

He patted her on her red ass and said, "You lay here quietly while I
fix us supper. I'll call you when it's ready."

"OK," she replied. Then as William was leaving the room, she said in a
soft, but bitter voice, "I hope they send him to the mines."

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 

END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN OF THIRTEEN

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 

Chapter Summaries

Chapter One: Vicki LeClaire is convicted of all charges. A sentencing
agreement is negotiated by William Wilson, a professional slave
sentence negotiator. This chapter primarily sets the scene for the
rest of the book. Once that is done, the action near the end centers
around public nudity and public humiliation.

Chapter Two: Vicki's "Day of Repentance" and her humiliating descent
into slavery, including being renamed as slave missy. This chapter
centers primarily on public nudity and public humiliation.

Chapter Three: The first of missy's 11 days of public punishment. On
this first day of punishment, Master Hiroya Takahashi demonstrates
properly trained pony girls, and instructs missy on the proper way to
receive a punishment spanking. The focus of this chapter is pony girls
and public spanking.

Chapter Four: The second day of punishment begins with a flogging
contest by a company called Judicial Placements Incorporated. Her
negotiator... and new Master, William Wilson flogs missy the required
forty-six times to fulfill the terms of her sentence. This chapter is
totally focused on non-consensual flogging.

Chapter Five: Slave missy's third day of punishment. She is once again
subject to a spanking, this time by the head of a private girl's
reformatory. Before her spanking, several of the young women from the
reformatory also receive public punishment. This is a spanking chapter
with bare hand, slipper, paddle and leather belt.

Chapter Six: The fourth day. On this day of punishment, she is
caned... by a robot, or more accurately, by a computer driven
mechanical spanking machine. Before her caning, James Madison
demonstrates his companies machines. This chapter focuses on
mechanical flogging, paddling, and caning. It also delves into
self-bondage and pain-pleasure.

Chapter Seven: The fifth day. Slave missy is punished by water
combined with heat, cold and electricity. This chapter focuses on
various types of water punishment.

Chapter Eight: On the sixth day of her punishment, missy is introduced
to "The Whipmaster." Before punishing her he provides a demonstration
of his abilities. The chapter is focused on public nudity, public
humiliation, and public flogging of one sort or another.

Chapter Nine: The seventh day for slave missy is a day for
electro-punishment. Slave missy becomes part of the vidshow, "Wheel of
Pleasure, Wheel of Pain."

Chapter Ten: The eighth day introduces a unique punishment- punishment
by combat. There is also an undercard of slave wrestling with
humiliation and pain in store for the loser.

Chapter Eleven: The ninth day of punishment is a lottery. The public
is given the chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Eight lucky
winners each get to give her five swats with a special paddle. One
lucky winner gets to finish the forty-six required for her punishment
by laying six swats of the paddle across missy's ass. The undercard is
also part of the lottery. Three slaves in need of punishment will each
receive 20 swats, again with one lottery winner delivering 5 of those
swats. In addition there are two volunteers. One is a male member of
the stage crew who is coming out as a pain slut. The other is a woman
who has been at every performance so far and wants to experience
public punishment and humiliation. Hers is a special case and her
husband will deliver however many swats it takes to make her cum.
Twenty-five winners were chosen to participate. Each was asked to
write a short essay saying why they should be the one to deliver the
final six to the repentant terrorist. The winner finishes off missy.

Chapter Twelve: This tenth day returns missy to old school punishment
as she receives an old fashioned caning. There is also a contest
between slaves to see who can withstand the most strokes of the cane.

Chapter Thirteen: (Last Chapter) Slave missy finally reaches her final
day of punishment. After having been punished by hand, slipper,
paddle, cane, water, and electricity, missy is punished with pleasure.
She is strapped into a high-tech denial/teasing/edging device and
taken to the very brink of orgasm 46 times.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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