Twelve Days A Slave Ch 05

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Slave missy learns there is more than one kind of spanking.

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 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.

A description of the thirteen chapters follows the end of each chapter. Slave missy 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.

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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.

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.

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Chapter Five - Missy learns how punishment is done in an old-fashioned reformed school.

Missy again woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. When she finally padded barefoot up to the front of the bus, William greeted her with a cheery, "Good morning!" Then he asked, "How is your backside this morning?" Not waiting for her to answer, he then said, "I'm not very imaginative when it comes to food- especially breakfast. I hope you don't get tired of bacon and eggs."

Missy waited for him to finish speaking and replied, "My ass is still a bit tender, but the redness and swelling seems to be gone. And, no, I will never get tired of bacon and eggs... especially with hot coffee."

William just smiled at pointed at the coffee maker. Missy made herself a cup and started to sit back down at the table.

"Towel," William said sternly, and she froze in place. After scurrying back to her bedroom, she returned with a towel which she laid over the seat before she sat down.

"Today is going to be a little tough on you," he said. "I can't gimmick anything today so you are going to have to endure the real deal. So, we had better grease you up with that ointment again and let you lie on your bed for an hour or so."

Missy decided that a mouthful of egg was a good excuse for not answering him, or asking him what kind of "real deal" she was going to have to endure. So, she just nodded her head in response and continued eating.

When breakfast was over and missy had once again done the dishes, they went back to her bedroom and she lay face down on her bed. The pain was gone, but she still gasped slightly as William smeared the ointment all over her back. He seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time carefully spreading the salve on her ass. His final action was to reach between her legs and smear the greasy medicine down to the edges of her now smouldering cunt.

"That should do it," he said suddenly and stood up. As he turned toward the door, missy raised her head and looked at him hopefully- or perhaps needfully.

The words, "Please take me high," were in her mind, but her mouth refused to say them. Instead she just groaned softly and lay her face back down on her pillow. An hour later, William called down the hallway, "Time for our morning tour of the town."

Missy walked down the steps of the bus with great trepidation. The so-called tour yesterday had not worked out very well. She ended the short trip almost frozen and covered in eggs and tomatoes.

"I have a surprise for you," he said cheerily as she stepped down onto the ground. "Get yourself oiled up and meet me on the other side of the trailer."

He threw the baby oil and baby gel to her and walked around behind the trailer. As she had the day before, she smeared the gel on as much of her body as she could reach and then smoothed it out with baby oil. She was tempted to spend extra time oiling her now aching pussy, but William's voice from the other side of the trailer urged her to speed things up.

As she walked around the trailer, William met her with her chains. She handed him the oil and gel so he could oil her back and then stood docilely in place while he did that and put her collar, manacles and shackles in place.

"Into the cage," he said. Missy couldn't quite understand why he was smiling so broadly, then she looked at the cage. The cage appeared to be the same, but the trailer was very different. There was another cage, square, which went around the entire base of the trailer. Directly against the inside of the bars was something that looked somewhat like chicken wire, but it appeared to be slightly thicker and was painted black.

Around the cage itself was a thick Lexan tube with hinges on one side and a latch on the other. There were small vents equally-spaced around the bottom and the top of the tube. A large circle of Lexan was also attached to the top of the cage just beneath the attachment circle.

William opened the front of the outer cage, the front of the tube, and finally the cage itself. "I didn't think we were going to need this until we went on tour, but I called the fabricators yesterday and they agreed- for a price- to work overnight and get it done for me.

Missy stepped up into her cage. "Remember to turn so everyone can clearly see you," William shouted.

Missy laughed and replied, "I can year you perfectly well. You don't have to shout."

"We're running late," William shouted back and started the ATV. They were going as fast or even faster than they were the day before, but missy was protected from the wind. Just enough air was flowing through the vents so that it did not become uncomfortably warm in the cage. As they turned onto Main Street, a group of youths- perhaps the same ones from yesterday- stepped into the street and began pelting the cage with eggs, tomatoes, and other garbage. Missy smiled and waved at them as they passed by.

As they made their way back to the fairgrounds, missy reached through the bars and ran her hand along the protective tube. Most of the garbage had been stopped by the outer cage, but the eggs and tomatoes had exploded when they hit the chicken wire. She looked around her at the splashes of red and yellow which seemed to be everywhere.

"That all would have been on me," she said quietly. Then turning to face the front, she said loudly, "Thank you, Master." She didn't know if he heard her or not, but she knew that she had to say it.

When they reached the stage, he again drove up the ramp and stopped beneath the cable which had already been lowered. Two members of the stage crew immediately ran forward and attached the cage. A moment later, missy began ascending into the air.

From her vantage point high above the stage, she was able to see the preparations for the afternoon punishment... but there were none. Although the small stage was still in place alongside the main stage, there was no setup for the band. Nor was there a table and chairs for a panel of judges. The only thing on the stage was an old wooden desk and an equally old wooden chair.

"I guess I will have to wait to see what he has in mind for today," she said to herself and leaned back against the bars of the back of the cage to wait. That position was relatively comfortable, but to remain in place, she had to spread her legs and brace her feet against the bars at the front of the cage. The result was that the audience had a direct view up between her legs.

"Might as well give them something to watch," she thought to herself as she slowly stroked herself. She didn't want to take herself to orgasm. She just wanted to get herself to a place where she could drift and ignore the world around her. For the next several hours as the roadies worked beneath her and then as the stands slowly filled with spectators, she stared out with dreamy, almost vacant eyes, as her fingers moved slowly up and down between her legs.

She wasn't really aware of the passage of time and it took her by surprise when William's voice boomed out of the speakers, "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to day three of a repentant terrorist's punishment. Today's punishment is sponsored by The Last Resort School for Girls. Do you have an eighteen to twenty-four year old daughter who has run afoul of the law and is at risk of being sentenced to slavery? Have you tried everything to reach her but she will not change her ways? Then The Last Resort School for Girls is your- and her- final chance. With proper guidance, you can petition the courts for your daughter to be sent to The Last Resort rather than being sentenced to slavery."

He paused as a woman dressed in a long black dress and stiffly-starched white blouse walked out on stage to join him. "I present to you, Madam Elaine Featherstone, headmistress of The Last Resort."

"Thank you Mister Wilson," she said in a very proper voice with a slight trace of a British accent.

Then turning toward the crowd she said, "Our philosophy is very much like the original ideals behind the reformatories. The purpose of those institutions was to bring about the reform of a young person's life through a strict regimen of reward and punishment."

She shook her head sadly as she continued, "Unfortunately, poor funding and bad staffing resulted in reformatories becoming no more than a training ground for hardened criminals and many were closed or abandoned by state, local, and federal governments."

Squaring her shoulders she said firmly, "That mistake will not be repeated at The Last Resort School for Girls. We pride ourselves on the close supervision we maintain for all students... and staff. With proper direction our girls graduate from The Last Resort ready to go out into the world as useful citizens."

She made a motion with her hands and four stage hands pulled the ancient desk to the center of the stage. Once it was in place, one of them pulled the equally old chair out to sit alongside it.

Once everything was properly in place, the headmistress clapped her hands several times and a line of young women was led onto the stage by several women who were dressed in black skirts and white blouses similar to what she was wearing

All nine of the young women were wearing old-fashioned school uniforms including plaid skirts and dark blue blazers worn over white blouses. They were all also wearing cowl masks to cover most of their faces. A teacher followed the line up on stage. She was also wearing a cowl mask. The ten masked women were lined up at the edge of the stage where they stood, basically at attention.

"We protect the identity of our students," Madam Featherstone said firmly, "even when they are subject to public punishment." She paused and gestured toward the end of the line. "The same is true for our staff," she added. The displeasure was obvious on her face.

"For today's demonstration, we have chosen three students who are guilty of minor infractions, three whose deeds are mid-range, and three whose deeds are severe." Her face again took on a look of extreme displeasure and she said, "The staff person, obviously, is the most serious infraction of all."

She then clapped her hands and the first three young women walked over to the front of the desk and bent their bodies over its surface. Meanwhile, Madam Featherstone sat primly on the chair.

For several minutes nothing happened. From the rising sound level, the audience was starting to get restless when she clapped her hands once very loudly. The crowd again became quiet, and one of the young women pulled herself up from the desk and walked over to stand beside her. When she gestured with her hand the girl laid herself over the Madam's lap.

"Count," she said loudly as she raised her arm and brought it down smartly across the plaid of the girl's dress.

"One," the student barked out.

Another muffled slap sounded through the arena.

"Two," the girl dutifully counted.

At the seventh swat, the girl began crying. By the ninth she was sobbing heavily. Finally she was able to sob out, "Twelve," and the spanking stopped.

"Return," Madam Featherstone said curtly and the girl slowly rose from her lap and returned to lay herself over the desk. The next girl hesitantly walked over to the headmistress and lowered herself over her lap.

Again Mistress Elaine gave the command to count, and again she brought her hand down smartly on the plaid dress covering the young woman's ass.

Again, the girl shouted out, "One!"

This girl, however, was crying by the third slap and was shaking in uncontrollable tears by the fifth slap. The headmistress pressed the girl tightly against her lap with both hands and said sternly, "If you can't control yourself, we will have to start over. Do you want that?"

"No, Mistress Featherstone," she sobbed back.

"Then count properly," Madam Featherstone said as she once again brought down her hand.

There were still tears and sobs, but the girl was able to choke out, "Six," and the spanking continued. The "Twelve" was very shaky and almost not heard by much of the audience, but the girl was able to complete the count.

At the command of "Return" the girl joined her fellow students at the desk and the third girl draped herself over the headmistress.

It was hard to tell if the headmistress was hitting harder with each girl or they were just weaker-willed, but this girl screeched at the first strike and began sobbing without giving the count.

"Count properly or we continue until you do!" Mistress Elaine commanded, but the girl continued to blubber.

"OK, then," she said loudly. "if you won't count, we will double the punishment."

The only response from the girl was another series of sobs, so her hand came down once more on the poor girl's plaid-clad ass.

"One," said someone in the audience. When the headmistress's hand came down again, more of the crowd said, "Two." As the spanking continued, more and more of the crowd joined in the count. Even so, their numbers were almost drowned out by the girl's loud screeches and sobs. Amazingly, she was able to maintain that volume all the way up to the twenty-forth spank.

When she was finally done, the headmistress pushed the wailing girl onto the floor. She stood up, pointed at the back of the stage and said disdainfully, "Wall! Nose! Now!"

The crying girl slowly pushed herself to her feet and staggered to the back wall of the stage where she stood facing the wall. She then slowly shuffled her feet forward until her face- or at least her nose- was touching the back wall.

"All of you!" Mistress Elaine screamed and the two other girls jumped up from the desk and scurried to join their schoolmate at the back wall. They duplicated her foot shuffling and soon they too were standing with their noses against the wall.

"Next group," the headmistress ordered, and three more students walked over to the desk and settled themselves across it. Three teachers accompanied the students, and once the top portion of their bodies was lying prone across the desk, they each stood behind one student and flipped her dress up onto her back exposing the girl's plain white panties. The dress was then tucked into its own waistband so that it would not fall back down when the girl stood up.

Mistress Elaine, meanwhile, sat and waited patiently. When all three students were properly prepared, she clapped once and the first student rose and came over to the chair. The girl handed something to the head mistress and lay down over her lap.

The headmistress gave no instructions this time, but instead slammed down smartly on the panty-clad ass with the slipper which had been handed to her.

"One," the girl yelled loudly.

The slipper smacked down again.

"Two," the girl cried.

Another loud smack.

"Three."

Smack.

"Four."

Smack.

"Five."

Smack.

"Six."

Smack.

"Seven."

Smack.

"Eight."

Smack.

"Nine."

Smack.

"Ten."

Smack.

"Eleven."

Smack.

"Twelve."

The girl had never screamed throughout the slippering.

"Return," ordered the head mistress and the girl returned to lay herself over the desk. Her legs below the white panties were now red and splotched where the slipper had struck bare skin.

The next girl walked quickly over and lay across the headmistress's lap. Again no instructions were given and again the girl counted all twelve strokes without crying out. She was ordered to return and the next girl replaced her. She, too, stoically counted as Mistress Elaine heated up her ass with the slipper.

She did not, however, reach twelve in total stoicism. On the tenth stroke she screamed "Ten, oh God that hurts. Please Mistress, I won't do it again."

The headmistress's response was to slam the slipper once again into the screaming girl's ass. "Eleven," she choked out and began wailing piteously. She managed to count the twelfth stroke, but almost immediately danced up from the headmistress's lap and began rubbing her tortured behind.

Madam Featherstone reached up and pulled the crying girl back over her lap. Slap! Slap! Slap! The slipper slammed repeated down on the now-struggling girl's ass.

The headmistress then said loudly, "Wall! And maintain proper decorum or we will repeat your slippering at a level three."

The girl again stood. It was obvious it was taking all of her will power to prevent her hands from going to her throbbing ass cheeks. She sobbed heavily and then drew in a deep breath that seemed to calm her. At least it calmed her enough so that she could walk unsteadily over to join the first three students with her nose pressed against the back wall of the stage.

Without any prompting, the other two students pushed themselves up from the desk and joined the line at the back wall.

Mistress Elaine once more clapped her hands and the final three students walked out and placed themselves over the desk. Again three teachers came up behind them and tucked their school dresses into their waistbands. The teachers then stepped back slightly and stood quietly for a moment as if they were waiting for something.

What they were waiting for was a command from the headmistress. Madam Featherstone clapped her hands twice and each of the teachers reached forward and grasped the waistbands of the girls panties. With one quick pull, all three students were displaying their naked charms to the cheering audience.