|by Bottom Up|
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 19 Aug 2010
Future Shock – Ignorance of the Law
This fictional story is set some time in the not too distant future.
I'm a 19 year old college student from Los Angeles. I go to college in Massachusetts where I am just starting my sophomore year. I want to tell you about what happened to me and my girlfriend recently. But you probably already know. It's been all over the news.
I met Pam last year while we were both at college. It turns out we grew up about five miles apart in L.A. but didn't know each other until we met here in Boston. We both spent the summer after our first year at home in L.A. A couple days before we were going to fly east to start school, I had picked up Pam to go shopping. She had wanted me to help her pick out a new laptop to bring to school. We were on the way back to her parent's house when I saw the flashing red and blue lights behind me. “Oh shit,” I said. “I didn't see that cop. I'm only going 50 in a 35 zone so maybe I'll just get a warning.”
“License please,” the officer said as he approached my car. I handed it to him and he took it back to his patrol car. He returned a minute or so later, gave me my license back and said “I see you have a completely clean record, but I clocked you at 52 miles per hour in this 35 zone. Where were you going so fast?”
I explained that we just bought her a new computer for college, that we wanted to get home so we could set up the computer before we have to leave for Boston the day after tomorrow. I didn't realize I was going so fast and didn't think I posed a danger to anyone as there were no other cars or people around.
“That's the trouble with you kids. You don't think,” replied the officer. “With your tight schedule, you probably want a spanking instead of a ticket?”
“What?” I exclaimed. “What do you mean a spanking?”
“Today is September first. The new corporal punishment law went into affect today. With the prisons overcrowded and most minor crimes going completely unpunished, the legislature passed a law last winter establishing corporal punishment for a wide variety traffic violations and minor crimes. Today is the first day the law has been in effect. You must have heard about it.”
I replied, “This is the first I've heard about it. About the only news I ever watch is sports, If this is a valid law, I should have heard of it by now.”
“I can't help that,” said the cop. “I just enforce the law. You have two
choices right now:
You can get out of your car, drop your pants and shorts, bend over the trunk of your car and I will administer five hard swats on your bare butt or you ...”
Pam cut him off. “You pervert! You just want to use your presumed authority to spank some guy for your own sexual gratification.” She opened her car door, got out and walked around the car to confront him face to face, screaming the whole time. “I know your type,” she said, poking him in the chest with her finger. “I'm a pysch major and we had a whole section on sexual deviants. You fit the bill perfectly. Making up a supposed law to allow you to spank anyone you want. What do you think we are? Idiots?”
“Please calm down, lady,” replied the cop. “I'm just doing my job. Putting up with abuse like this is part of my job, but I don't have to just stand here and take it. If you continue, you may find yourself in jail instead of in school next semester.”
“I still think you are a pervert,” she responded.
“That's it. I'm giving you the same choice your friend has, a spanking or a ticket. Now shut up and listen. This applies to both of you. Five swats on your bare butt. You'll be bent over the truck of your car and my dashboard camera will record the whole thing, sound and video. When I'm done, a record is made in the state-wide database. If you get caught again, the number of swats you get will depend on your past record. No entry will be made in the Department of Motor Vehicles database that would influence you insurance rates. There is no fine. Its all over. Your other choice is that I can write a ticket. This ticket is sort of like tickets we used to issue, but with one big change. You can't just pay the ticket. You have to appear before a judge who will determine how many swats you will receive. You will most likely also have to pay a fine and a DMV report will be made just as before. If you don't appear before a judge within two weeks, a warrant will be issued for your arrest. In your case, if you fly off to Boston, you will get a very unpleasant surprise when you come back. All the airlines are required to check the state's outstanding warrants against their passenger lists. You can expect to be taken off the plane in handcuffs when you return to California, then spend several days in jail before receiving a much worse spanking than anything I would ever give. What's your choice, me or the court?”
“I'd never let you touch me,” said Pam.
“Wait a second, Pam,” I said. “We fly to Boston the day after tomorrow. If what the officer says is true, we wouldn't have much time to get the ticket taken care of.”
“Well, I'll go to court tomorrow. You can do whatever you like,” Pam told me.
“I guess I'll take the ticket too,” I said to the officer. The officer took Pam's driver's license and entered the data into his handheld computer.
“You may be sorry you made this decision,” he said as two Summons to Appear for Corporal Punishment slips came out of his computer. “Have a nice day. You won't tomorrow.”
The title on the ticket was a shocker for both us. I sort of believed that what Pam had accused him of was probably true, that he was a rogue cop, or not a cop at all, using the color of governmental authority to physically abuse people. Reading the ticket verified everything the officer had said. It said we could go to any court house in the state to receive our punishment and that we should report to the Corporal Punishment Department prior to 9:00AM on any day the court was normally open.
The next day, on September 2, I picked up Pam at 8:00 AM and we drove to the local court house. When we went inside, the building directory did not list a Corporal Punishment Division so we went to the Information Desk to ask. The lady there said that department had not been set up yet and asked if we could come back next week. Pam told her that we were both leaving for college on the east coast the next day and that it was today or never. She wrote down a number from each of our summons papers and told us to wait right there.
Ten minutes later she returned and told us that the Traffic Court judge would see us as soon as he was done with his current calendar. We should go to the Department Seven court room and wait. It was almost 11:00 AM when he finished with the other traffic cases and said “I understand there are two Corporal Punishment cases this morning. Are the defendants present?”
“Yes, You Honor,” we replied in unison.
“I'm going to take a short recess. Don't go anywhere, I'll be back within ten minutes,” he said as he got up and headed for the door.
All the other spectators had left leaving only a sheriff and the court recorder in the room. We were both pleased at that. If the judge was going to paddle our bare bottoms as the cop had suggested, we didn't want a lot of people watching.
When the judge returned, he ask us to approach the bench and tell our sides of the what happened. After we told him honestly exactly what had happened, he said that our stories matched the officer's report. He went on “I'm really sorry that you did not believe the officer and submit to his spanking. This law was written with the idea of taking a big burden off the courts and putting it in the hands of local law enforcement, much as it was a century ago. The law is very clear. If the officer offered you a five swat penalty, the minimum I can offer is ten. Part of the deterrent to a court appearance is that the punishments are carried out in a public place, in this case the large open foyer where you first came into the building.”
Pam and I were shocked. What had happened to our private spanking?
The judge continued. “If you choose to plead guilty, I will sentence you each to ten swats on the bare buttocks to be given immediately. Under the circumstances, I will not impose a monetary fine. Young man, your speeding violation will appear on your DMV record. If you plead not guilty, there will be a trial, the citing officer will have to appear, and you would have to return from Boston for the trial. The maximum penalty you would face at trial is 25 swats plus a $250 fine plus up to 10 days in jail. Since we will only administer ten swats at a time, some jail time would be required if you were to receive more than ten swats. I don't recommend that you plead not guilty. How do you plead?”
“Guilty, Your Honor,” I said. Pam immediately followed with her guilty plea.
“I sentence each of you to ten swats on your bare buttocks. The bailiff will see to your punishment. Good luck. This is a tough lesson to learn. Court is adjourned.”
The deputy sheriff indicated that we should follow him. He led us out of the court room and down the hall to the big foyer at the entrance to the building. While there had been a few people walking through and milling about when we entered this morning, now it was jammed pack full of people, a hundred or more, along with three TV cameras. “It looks like you're going to be famous,” quipped the deputy. I didn't think it was funny. I thought I was going to be sick. As the deputy opened the door into a small room off the foyer and led us inside, a round of applause from the onlookers erupted.
The deputy told us to undress completely except for our shoes and sox. Handing Pam an apron, he said “Mam, you may put this on. Frontal nudity is not permitted for females because it might attract a rapist. Males are expected to be fully nude. Put your belongings in one of the lockers and attach the key to your shoelaces with the safety pin. Make it quick.”
We did as the deputy had directed. Pam looked like she was going to cry right then. I thought I was going to throw up. The deputy clearly wanted us to hurry up, “Can't keep your audience waiting,” he said several times, then he would laugh. We didn't think it was funny.
When we were undressed, he opened the door and led us into the big room. There were even more people there now. He marched us over next to a table in the center of the room and told us to stand at attention, hands at our sides, while he read the court order for our spankings. I reluctantly moved my hands to my side giving up any sense of modesty I may have gained from having them shielding my genitals. With my penis fully erect, I had lost all my modesty.
The deputy read the sentence. “By order of the court, Judge Andrew Polanski, presiding, James Allan Wilson is sentenced to ten swats on his bare buttocks for driving 52 miles per hour in a 35 mile per hour zone and refusing to accept a five swat punishment from the arresting officer.” The deputy told me to hold out my hands in front of me which I did. He put a pair of handcuffs on me then told me to bend over the table and reach for the far side. Another deputy attached a short rope to the handcuffs and pulled it tight, stretching me across the table. While he did that, the first deputy secured me to the table with a leather belt around my waist. The deputy with the paddle walked around the table showing the paddle to the crowd. It looked to be about two feet long, four inches wide with a row of big holes down the center.
The first deputy then announced “Ten swats, thirty seconds between swats, swat one.” I braced for the expected pain, but instead heard shouts of “Stop!” and “Wait!” from the audience. There was a pause for a minute or so while nothing happened, except I could hear a lot of talking in the audience.
Then I heard the judge loudly announce “The normal procedure for a judicial paddling is one swat every thirty seconds. The reason for this is to extend the period of pain and embarrassment for the recipient. This being the first judicial paddling within the living memory of any Californian, I want to emphasize the deterrent value of this event so that others who break our laws will accept a paddling from the citing officer instead seeking a court ordered punishment. Therefore I am ordering the bailiff to administer the ten swats as rapidly as he can to make this event shorter and therefore more likely to receive widespread television coverage. And I also want to emphasize that bailiff's administering court ordered punishment are to apply their full strength to each swat and that permanent marks are expected, officers administering punishment in the field are limited in the force they can apply. Continue.”
The first deputy announced “Ten Swats. Rapid Fire.”
I had never been spanked before and nothing I ever imagined could have prepared me for the pain that followed. The first swat hit and my butt erupted in fire. I had vowed to myself to “take it like a man” and not show they were hurting me. That resolve vanished instantly with the first swat. I screamed out in pain. It just got worst from there. After the second and third swats I pleaded for it to stop, but of course it didn't. After that I couldn't even form words. I don't remember anything after the fifth swat. The TV showed that I started peeing on the floor after the eighth swat.
When it was all over, they undid the handcuffs and the belt around my waist, but I just lay there on the table, unable to move. With a deputy on each side of me, they pulled my arms back and attempted to help me stand. My legs weren't ready for that and I collapsed on the floor in the puddle of my own urine. Apparently this was not an expected reaction as no one seemed to know what to do. One of the spectators came forward, said that he was a doctor and instructed the bailiff to call 911 and to get some towels, paper or otherwise, so he could stop the bleeding. He helped me to roll onto my side, told me to breath deeply and he took my pulse. He told me I would be OK, that my butt would be sore for a week or so, but that he did not expect any lasting injury. I heard an ambulance siren come to a stop nearby. The EMTs quickly loaded me on a stretcher and took me to the nearest emergency room where doctors put a couple stitches in one nasty cut. They kept me for a couple hours to make sure I would be OK, then released me to my parents.
My mother had watched the whole thing unfold on TV and she called 911 to find out where they were taking me. They let her into my room as soon as I was back from the operating table.
Pam later told me that as all the commotion was going on, the judge came over to her and said he was terribly sorry as he patted her ten times on her buttocks. “That was your spanking,” he said. “Now go get dressed and leave by the back door so you don't have to talk to the press. I'll certify that you were paddled.”
Needless to say, I was famous as soon as I arrived on campus a few days later. For three
days, the news stations showed the video over and over. For months the talk radio shows debated
whether or not this kind of punishment was appropriate or ethical. There were endless requests
for TV and radio interviews. Finally it all sort of died down.
Strangely, I can't wait to get home to California. I want to speed by a cop again.
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