Trumped Up Punishments – Chapter 11 Private I
Trumped Up Punishments – Chapter 11: Private Fundraiser I
Ibby and Rebecca, both naked, were waiting for the continuation of their ordeal in a small room backstage. Neither of them said anything. They had both been punished in front of the whole school, some select alumni and members of the public willing to pay to witness their punishments. While Eloise had been punished for trying to be funny in class (in a somewhat lewd way), Rebecca felt that all her punishments, and there had been two in total, had been entirely undeserved: Mr. Warner, her English teacher, had promised to give her enough demerits to have her punished publicly, and, to avoid this fate, she had stripped for him and masturbated his (disgusting) penis. Unfortunately, the headmaster had discovered them just as Mr. Warner ejaculated. Bad timing. Still, her punishment had been severe. Twice, with more to come. In the meanwhile, Mr. Warner had avoided losing his job (and being disqualified as a teacher throughout the US) by submitting to punishment himself at a private donors’ fundraiser. Rebecca’s mother had insisted to be present, both to exact her daughter’s revenge, and to make sure that she was the one who got to control any additional punishment that Rebecca had to suffer.
The private event was to take place in the school’s chamber music auditorium – a small room with a stage, chairs and tables dotted around the room. Drinks and nibbles were being served to those donors who had already made their way over from the main theater. There was laughter, sipping of champagne – generally, any bystander would have thought this was nothing more sinister than a cocktail party. The only odd thing was that four security guards were standing on the stage, looking grim. In a corner, Mr. Warner was sitting, nervously sipping, no, drinking deeply, a large glass of scotch.
Mr. Barton took to the stage: “Ladies and Gentlemen, I am very pleased to welcome you to the second part of the evening. As you know, we did not quite manage to get through the program planned for the main stage and will conclude that part of the proceedings now, before moving on to what we had planned for this private event.”
A door opened on the stage, and the naked Rebecca entered.
“Miss Ward, please turn on the spot for us while we conduct our silent auction.”
As Rebecca was turning, it became clear that the chamber music room had no mobile or wifi reception, so that the app used for silent auctions was not going to work.
“Oh, well. We are just going to go lo-tech, then! As we distribute paper, please write down your bid and put it in an envelope! The winner gets to determine Miss Ward’s punishment. There are no limits to your imagination, but we do aim to prevent permanently harming our pupils!”
Mrs. Ward was not made of money, but she had to make sure that she won this auction. She wrote “$1000” on a piece of paper and put it in the envelope. Envelopes were collected and handed to Mr. Barton.
“Miss Ward, I think it would be nice if you could open them and read out what they say!”
Rebecca had no alternative. She opened the first one: “$140”. The second one: “$500”. The third: “$25,000”! Mrs. Ward cried out. She had been outbid! And her daughter now knew it! She threw her mother a hateful glance when she opened her envelope and saw the comparatively pathetic bid of $1000. There were in fact two more bids that would have outbid Mrs. Ward, but none came close to $25,000.
The winner of the auction turned out to be a Mr. Bolden-Ahern, a millionaire who did not have any c***dren at the school, but who supported all schools in the district out of philanthropic motives. He was seventy years old, and committed to deeply conservative values. He was gray-haired, distinguished looking, wearing a smart, gray three-piece suit. He consulted with Mr. Barton, following which Mr. Barton asked Carl to bring in one of the punishment ‘wheels of fortune’. It had seemingly random numbers on it, for example a single ‘1’ and a single ‘200’, with most numbers being between 5 and 25. There were a few numbers over fifty, but they were in a distinct minority.
“What is going to happen is this:’ explained Mr. Barton. Mr. Bolden-Ahern will stipulate five distinct punishments for Miss Ward. He will specify a specific number of strokes or lashes. Miss Ward can accept the number proposed, or challenge it. If she challenges it, the wheel will be spun and whatever number it lands on will substitute the number originally proposed. Is this clear?”
It was. The assembled donors thought this added a nice twist. Rebecca and her Mom were not so sure. Mr. Bolden-Ahern now raised his voice: “The first punishment will be a traditional caning of Miss Ward’s left palm, using a light cane. I propose 55 strokes”.
Rebecca looked at the wheel and decided to challenge. There were many more numbers on there that were lower than 55 than higher. Carl spun the wheel … it looked like it was going to land on the ‘1’, but it moved one more marker, landing on ‘12’. Still, a good call on Rebecca’s part. She was told to extend her left arm, the palm of her hand upwards. Carl took a light cane and pulled it through her palm, which was immediately on fire. After 12 strokes her hand was entirely red, with some blue stripes. She was very pleased that she had challenged the original number of 55, but still, the pain was quite intense, and refused to go away even as Mr. Bolden-Ahern announced what her next punishment would be.
“Miss Ward will be put on a table, on her back, with a member of the audience restraining each of her arms and legs. She will then be given a proposed 20 strokes of a heavy cane on her bottom.”
Rebecca threw a glance at the wheel. Most numbers there were lower than 20, but then there were some, though not many, that were higher. Chances were that the wheel would turn up a number slightly lower than 20, but not much. She decided not to challenge and lay down on a gurney that had been put in the middle of the small stage. Four audience members (all men) had since volunteered to ‘help’. Two held her arms, while two took hold of a leg each, raising them up and then spreading them. With her bottom towards the auditorium, she was now on display to the remaining audience.
Carl raised the cane, and when it cut into her flesh it made the sound of a pistol shot, immediately followed by her scream and her mother’s soft sobbing. Again and again Carl hit her bottom, and at the end she felt as if her behind was on fire. But she got through it. Just. And what alternative did she have, anyway?
Mr. Barton now got on the stage again. “Given Mr. Bolden-Ahern’s generosity, both in the past and on this occasion, I find it hard to deny him anything. He originally asked to take Miss Ward to a room backstage for thirty minutes, where she would not be punished any more but would have to obey Mr. Bolden-Ahern’s orders without exception. He was honest enough to indicate that these orders would involve sexual activity. Now, the President’s Executive Order only allows schools to inflict punishment on students, not to subject them to sexual acts without consent. However, if they do consent, that is a different matter as far as I can see. So I would like to take this opportunity to ask Miss Ward if she would like to do as Mr. Bolden-Ahern suggests in return for the remainder of her punishment being waived.”
Rebecca thought of being used sexually by a seventy-year old man, however distinguished looking, and shook her head.
“As Miss Ward does not consent, we will continue with her punishment. What do you have in mind, Mr. Bolden-Ahern?”
“Miss Ward shall be strapped onto the punishment horse face face-down, which will cause her breasts to hang down underneath the horse.”
The punishment horse had been sitting at the back of the stage throughout, in fact. It was constructed with large holes in strategic places. The victim’s shoulders and arms would be supporting her body, but her breasts would be hanging down through one of these holes.
“She shall then be caned on her hanging breasts with a medium cane. I suggest 50 strokes.”
The audience gasped. Rebecca was in tears. 50 strokes! She challenged. Chances were that she would end up with between 10 and 20 strokes, still very bad, but 50 she just would not be able to stand!
Carl spun the wheel … it slowed down … it seemed as if it might land on ‘18’, but then it went two notches further, landing on, to Rebecca’s horror, ‘200’.
Rebecca could not believe it. She could only see the audience through a veil of tears, as Carl and another guard were leading her over to the punishment horse. She was strapped in securely, with each arm and leg restrained by a Velcro strap, with another strap around her waist, making it impossible to move herself up. Her breasts were dangling down through the hole. The horse was then raised, so that her body was at the height of Carl’s shoulder, giving him great access to her hanging breasts.
“I have changed my mind, I’ll go with Mr. Bolden-so-and-so, just don’t do this to me!”
Mr. Barton looked over to Mr. Bolden-Ahern, who shook his head.
“That deal was then, this is now. The deal is off the table – you, on the other hand, are on it! Carl, please proceed!”
Carl struck her left breast with great force. Immediately a bright red line formed where it had been hit. He struck again, hitting the same breast. Rebecca felt as if her breast was being torn off her body.
“Pleeeaase, stop!”, she screamed, “I will do aaanyything!”
Carl, with raised cane, looked over at Mr. Bolden-Ahern. He indicated him to stop and moved onto the stage. “I said the original deal was off the table, now that circumstances have changed, and I meant it. However, I can offer you a new deal: a whole hour of ‘private’ time backstage, you obey all my commands and submit to some punishment, though not nearly as severe as what you are about to suffer. Should you fail to obey, this punishment will continue and we will, in addition, schedule regular appearances for you at punishment assemblies in front of the whole school for the next six months. Mr. Barton, are you content with this?”
Mr. Barton nodded gravely. “As long as Miss Ward is freely consenting, in order to avoid her rightful punishment. In fact, I would like her to sign a waiver to that effect.”
Rebecca was unstrapped, asked to sign the waiver and was then escorted by one of the guards to a room backstage. Mr. Bolden-Ahern followed her. Mrs. Ward, Rebecca’s mother, had to leave the room in order to be violently sick in the bathroom.
In the meantime, Mr. Barton announced that one of the teachers of the school, Mr. Warner, had been caught in a compromising position with a pupil (he did not say that the pupil had been Rebecca) and that, in order not to lose his job and pension, he had agreed to submit to punishment in front of the donors.
Mr. Warner was asked to take off his shirt. His hands were secured above his head. Carl then gave him five whiplashes. Mrs. Ward reentered the room when he was being released. She could not believe it: not only had she failed to safeguard her daughter from being tortured and sexually abused, she had missed the punishment of the person who had caused it all! But it was too late. Mr. Barton announced that Mr. Warner had now paid the price of his crime and was fully rehabilitated.
Ibby was now being led onto the stage. “This student is being punished for disobedience at the Punishment Assembly just now. I would ask all those present to write down a suggested punishment and put the piece of paper in an envelope. Ibby will draw two of them in order to decide what punishments she will suffer.”
In the meantime, a naked Rebecca was lying across Mr. Bolden-Ahern’s lap in a room backstage. He was spanking her, not too hard, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. He enjoyed the feel of her firm buttocks as he struck them, and her cries excited him. His seventy-year-old cock was slowly rising.
To be continued …