From firmhand23@aol.com Sat Aug 09 10:51:15 1997 Path: news1.infoave.net!news-dc-10.sprintlink.net!news-dc-2.sprintlink.net!news-east.sprintlink.net!news-dc-26.sprintlink.net!news-peer.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!Sprint!howland.erols.net!infeed2.internetmci.com!newsfeed.internetmci.com!portc03.blue.aol.com!newstf02.news.aol.com!audrey02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: firmhand23@aol.com (FirmHand23) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: STORY: Leslie's Second Spank(MM/F,spk,humil,wit) Date: 9 Aug 1997 14:51:15 GMT Lines: 348 Message-ID: <19970809145100.KAA23801@ladder02.news.aol.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: ladder02.news.aol.com X-Admin: news@aol.com Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com Here is the sequel to Leslie's first court strapping.... LESLIE'S RETURN TO THE COURTROOM PART 1 **NOTE: This is a work of pure fiction. All persons, places, names and things depicted in this story are fictitious. If this material offends you, you are under 18 years old or it is illegal in your jurisdiction, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!** Recap of the first part: Leslie had gone to court to answer charges of contributing to the delinquency of a minor after being caught "flashing" a young bag boy at a local supermarket. Faced with the choice of jail time or corporal punishment, she opted for the corporal punishment. As a result, I conducted a humiliating physical examination prior to a severe strapping administered before witnesses by a female judge in her chambers. Leslie was very sore driving home that day. She though to herself, 'I sure hope the clerk doesn't find my prior conviction for sunbathing nude at my apartment complex in the summer of 1995 when I lived in the next county.' It seems some parents complained after their teenage boys told what they saw. She was given a hefty fine and two years probation. This prior record should have been disclosed to the court on the forms each defendant is required to submit. If they find out, she knew she would probably be summoned to correct that error...in the typical fashion in that county. She became damp between her legs with fear as the importance of the situation hit her. This is my recollection of Leslie's second appearance at our courthouse. LESLIE IS SUMMONED TO COURT The official looking envelope arrived that afternoon in her mailbox. Hands sweaty and shaking, Leslie read the text on the embossed stationery: "You are hereby SUMMONED to the County Courthouse before Judge Richard Dakin to explain your omitting reference to your prior criminal record in Concord County. You will report to the Court Clerk next Thursday and give your explanation in open court. The judge's ruling will determine your punishment. You are required to be on time and suitably attired. Hereof, fail not under penalty of the law." Leslie reported as ordered, hoping for the best. She was really glad to see a male judge, thinking she could influence him toward leniency. She decided to dress to try to appeal to him: white see-through blouse unbuttoned to expose cleavage, demi-cup pushup bra, tight thigh-high red miniskirt with rear kick slit to within an inch of her bottom when standing, sheer-to-the waist pantyhose and four inch high heels with an ankle strap. And no panties. She dressed like the real brat she thought she was; too good to be spanked like she was at the hands of the bitch judge from last time. Surely this guy will understand and we can get this worked out, she thought confidently. I should be in and out of there in no time and get on with my day. When she appeared before the bench, the judge did NOT "understand." Her case was called, and she appeared pro se. She demurely explained her omission to him with a coy smile and a perfunctory apology, and the prosecutor responded that had the previous judge known of her prior conviction, the punishment would have been more severe. Leslie just smiled her thousand watt smile, hoping to convince the judge the whole thing was a simple, harmless mistake. The judge finally banged his gavel and found her guilty of deliberately deceiving the court, and gave her a choice of 60 days incarceration in the county work camp, or corporal punishment. He recessed the court, giving her 15 minutes to decide. Leslie was stunned, and the smile quickly vanished. In contrast, the prosecutor had a smug grin on his face as he gathered up his files. When the court session resumed, the judge called Leslie up to the bench and asked what her decision was. "Oh God, I simply can't take jail, your honor," she said. "I really have no choice. I'll have to take corporal punishment, sir, if you really feel I must be punished. But I beg that you show me mercy, sir. I'm over 40 and all..." "Very well. Let the record show that the defendant, Leslie, elects judicial corporal punishment," the judge cut her off abruptly. "The sheriffs will now escort you to the doctor's office for a preliminary examination prior to imposition of sentence. You will then be escorted to my chambers for execution of the sentence. I haven't decided on the exact sentence; however, your attitude and demeanor will influence me in my final decision," the judge stated clearly for the record. "Court is now adjourned," he pronounced as he banged his gavel, signaling the bailiff to call everyone to rise as the judge exited the bench. Two male deputy sheriffs took her by the arms and led her to my office down a hall behind the courtroom. When she entered the room, she saw me there in a white lab coat going over a chart. She stopped short, remembering what I did with her the last time she was brought in here for her pre-punishment examination. The sheriff handed me her sentencing orders, then stepped back against the wall. She expected them to leave, but it clearly wasn't going to happen. "Hel...hello, doctor," she manages to stammer out as her eyes drop to the floor in shame. Without responding, I looked up at her with my steely blue eyes, then looked her up and down, observing the way she was dressed. I pointed to the sheriffs and ordered, "Strip her!" "Please don't touch me ...I don't need your help...I'll take them, off just don't touch me...please," she cried out. She began backing away from them and flailing her arms to keep them at a distance. She was no match for the two of them. The sheriffs overpowered her and forcibly stripped her naked. They dragged her over to my examination table kicking and screaming. She was causing such a commotion that the young female clerk and a receptionist came running in to see what was the matter. The clerk and receptionist quickly jumped in to help hold her down while the sheriffs strapped her down to the exam table. Her wrists were handcuffed and pulled back over her head while she was on her back and chained to the head of the table. This stretched her tits out and exposed her nipples for all to see. Her legs and feet were placed into the stirrups and secured with leather straps which were buckled tightly to hold her in place. Finally, two straps were tightened along her torso to hold her to the table. She continued to struggle and scream, so I balled up some gauze and shoved it into her mouth, taping it in with surgical tape. The sheriffs and the two young ladies were breathing hard, and looked at each other with satisfied expressions of "a job well done." Finally, the clerk and receptionist glanced sideways at each other and burst into fits of giggled. They came around between her legs, bent over, and looked closely at her pussy and asshole all exposed. "Wow, she's a whole lot more feisty today," one of them giggles. "The judge is going to have fun with this one. I can't wait!" I told everyone the show was over...for now. The two girls left, still smiling sadistically. I told the sheriffs to remain in case she gave me any more problems. They resumed their position back against the wall, watching. I pulled on my latex gloves. Leslie watched me, eyes wide with apprehension as she thought, 'What a humiliating situation...spread as I am exposing my all to strange men who have had their hands all over me watching as latex gloves were pulled on for only one reason: to probe deeply into the openings I present. The gauze and tape silence my protest. I am merely a piece of meat to be inspected, body orifices to be probed and plundered with no regard for the pain or shame. God, I hope I'm clean...' I spread apart her fleshy asscheeks and inspected her anus...her tight brown puckered hole. To help hold her down firmly, I attached nipple clamps to her tits, making the nipples very hard and erect. I laced some dental floss between them, then taped the floss to her mouth. Every time she squirmed or thrashed her head around, she would be pulling on her nipples...and inflicting her own pain. I picked up the tube of KY jelly. Then, after a moment's reflection, put it back down. Since she's caused me so much trouble, I decided to penetrate her dry. I can't wait to see her reaction as I force my fingers into her pussy and asshole without the usual and expected lubrication. I spread her pussy lips apart, smoothing the hair away from the slit. I twisted my dry finger around and into her urethral opening, eliciting a sharp but muffled cry from her gagged mouth. I took her clit between my fingers and squeeeezed....making her hips buck violently against her restraints. Finally, I inserted my two fingers into her pussy...dry. I had a hard time getting them in past her inner lips, but I succeeded after much pushing and twisting. Good thing she's not a virgin, I thought. On the other hand, maybe it would have been better if she was.... After withdrawing my fingers from her pussy, I spread the cheeks of her ass. I looked at her face and saw her eyes had gone wide with fear again. She knew I was going to split her asshole with dry fingers, too. A single tear rolled down the side of her face. I wiped off what little moisture remained on my glove from her pussy, then touched her asshole with the tip of my finger. She could feel the gradual pressure as I began pushing and twisting my finger to get it inside. Slowly, I managed to get it all the way up, despite her struggling and moaning. Although I wanted to, inserting a second finger into her dry hole would have been almost impossible. I decided to move on to other things. At last, I pulled out my finger with much resistance from her dry asshole. I removed the gloves and smiled at the sheriffs. "No contraband," I say. "She's ready for the judge." Throughout my dry probing of her two pelvic orifices, Leslie was torn between the discomfort of my probing and the involuntary torment she was inflicting on her own nipples at the same time. Her mind was consumed with the pain in her nipples as the clips crushed and pulled them. She tried to keep her head still but when I impaled her dry, it was just too much to endure. She twisted and bucked about involuntarily, inflicting incidental pain. It felt as if she were tearing her nipples off. She had never felt such pain as I savaged and plundered her poor sex. Then the terrible realization that I was going up her ass dry. Her sphincter felt as if it was being split...it felt as if my finger was going to come out her throat as I probed her, going where no other man has ever gone before this. 'Surely my ass is damaged beyond repair,' she silently sobbed to herself. One of the sheriffs commented that I didn't examine her mouth for hidden contraband...that's a standard procedure. I was so caught up with her struggling and my intentional infliction of punishment that I almost forgot. I told one of them to come over and hold her head still. I removed the tape and gauze from her mouth and inserted a bite block between her teeth so she couldn't bite my fingers. Then, with two of my fingers, I probed around her gum line and the insides of her cheeks. I took a strip of dry gauze dressing and grabbed her tongue, pulling it up and out, inspecting under it carefully. Lastly, I slipped my fingers all the way to the back of her throat and depressed her tongue...causing her to gag violently and try to thrash her head around as the sheriff held her still. Finding nothing in her mouth, I ordered her released. With her breath coming in gasps, I made her promise not to scream or yell anymore, with threats of the gag being reapplied. Leslie gratefully agreed. 'No more of that damned gag!' she prayed silently. I nodded to the two men, and they began to unfasten her from my table. I told them to slip a hospital gown on her, covering her front. But even when tied, it's open in the back, typical of an examination gown. They handcuffed her again, this time with her hands behind her back. I looked at the clock and saw that the judge was waiting. We have to hurry. No time to stay here and take her temperature...the last thing to be done before pronouncing her fit for the rest of her ordeal. I told the sheriffs to step on her bare feet and hold them to the floor. She felt the soles of their boots pressing down hard on the insteps of her feet and over the tops of her toes. I had them grab her shoulders and bend her forward at the waist. When she did so, the gown fell to the sides and front, leaving her buttocks completely bare. I took a large rectal thermometer with a flared pear-shaped silver tip to help retain it, and inserted it dry into her asshole. I wiggled it in and twirled it a few times, then gave it a little tug to be sure it would remain in place. When I indicated we were ready to go, the sheriffs took her arms and escorted her into the hallway, turning left. They made her pad down the hallway in her bare feet, and she could see the employees and public visitors looking out of the glassed-in offices at her, knowing where she was going and what was about to happen to her. She thought a few may have looked sorry for her, but others had a gleeful look about them...glad it wasn't them, at the same time wishing they could witness her punishment. This just multiplied her humiliation tenfold. She felt their eyes following her, and as she passed them, she knew they were looking at her bare bottom with a glass thermometer peeking out from between her fleshy round asscheeks as she walked. Mercifully, she finally got to the large, thick, solid oak door to the Judge's Chambers. 'God, that was humiliating the way he inserted the damn rectal thermometer...I can hardly walk...it feels as if something is driven up my poor asshole,' she continued thinking. 'What a spectacle at my age being led through a public building with a tiny hospital gown that only conceals my breasts and a damn rectal thermometer sticking out my asshole for all to see. Everyone seems to enjoy the spectacle but me. Sure, some of the women give a second thought to what if it were them in the tiny gown...but they know it's some other hussy getting her due, no doubt. Oh God, there's a teen getting his fill. I'm almost old enough to be his grandmother. God, I hope no one who knows me is looking on. Oh please, God in heaven, please let the judge's chambers be empty. Oh no, I need to use the bathroom...the inside of my leg is wet...and I sure hope this thermometer stays in and I don't let it slide out onto the hall floor...' As she walked into the judge's chambers, she was led across a plush carpet to an expansive mahogany desk with high back leather chair behind it. Standing to the side was Judge Dakin, a tall, trim man of about 55 with short, neat gray hair and wire rimmed glasses, dressed in a business suit as one would expect of a judge. The sheriffs hauled her up before him and he looked her up and down without speaking. He asked me, "Doctor, is this criminal prepared to receive her just punishment?" "Yes, your honor. All I have to do is verify her temperature and we may proceed," I replied. "Very well. Let's get on with it." The sheriffs grabbed her by the hair and forced her head down to the desk surface, being sure her pelvis was tight up against the edge and her breasts were flattened against the top. One sheriff considerately spread apart the hospital gown for me so as to reveal her ample buttocks...and the thermometer peeking out from the cleft. I bent down and spread her cheeks with one hand, while with the other I tugged the bulb of the thermometer past her anus until it plopped free and her asshole squeezed shut behind it. I read it after wiping it down, and announced her temperature was normal. The judge now commanded, "Take her into the punishment room and prepare her." She was straightened up and dragged by the hair into an adjoining conference room which had been converted into a corporal punishment area. In the room she immediately noticed the young girl clerk and the court reporter from her last visit. They smiled as she entered. The steno greeted her sarcastically with, "I see you just couldn't resist coming back to see us!" Leslie turned red, but figured it was best not to respond to the taunt. She also noticed a younger man, a boy actually, who she deduced by overhearing conversations that he was a summer intern from a local college. 'Oh God,' she thought, 'why do I have to be exposed like this in front of him? It's bad enough that adult strangers are going to see my bare bottom whipped, but a boy, too?' Also present was the District Attorney. She was led to a wooden bench toward the rear of the room. She saw a black felt sign framed in silver, with plastic letters pressed into it which read "Leslie #2." Kind of like the signs they have in funeral homes, she thought. She looked behind her and saw the video camera already set up and the young intern making adjustments to it. Unlike last time, the sheriffs placed her on the bench on her back, face up, with her crotch facing the audience. They took leather cuffs and straps and secured her hands to the far end of the bench over her head, the stretching causing her breasts to flatten as they were pulled upward. The clerk and the stenographer came over and placed her legs in full-support stirrups and strapped them down with leather straps. Two wide leather straps secured her torso to the bench. "Nice nipple clamps, Leslie," smirked the clerk. Leslie had almost forgotten she still had them on, and was thoroughly humiliated now. When everyone was through tying her down, I checked to be sure all was secure and she couldn't move. I then adjusted the stirrups so that her legs pointed toward the ceiling and her knees were brought back to almost touch her nipples. Then her legs were spread apart wider. "Can you get a shot of this OK?" I ask the intern. "Hold on a second...there we go. Beautiful. I can get the whole scene and I can zoom in tight with no problem. This is a perfect angle," Leslie heard him respond as if she weren't even there. (To be continued in Part 2)