Trabbian Justice

Allison Sturgis, or Ali, as her friends called her, layed in her single dorm room, waiting for the alarm to go off at 7 AM. Not that she had slept much, worrying about the ordeal she was facing in the morning. Why had she agreed to take a false ID to the liquor store to try to buy some bottles for a dorm party? And what's the big deal anyway? She was 19 and she made the DOB look like she was 23, and that stupid clerk had noticed and called the cops. So what? All she and her friends wanted was to have a little fun. But she was the one who was going to have her ass shredded in a few hours.

Being arrested and held overnight in a stinky jail cell with a blocked toilet, locked up with addicts and hookers wasn't fun. Nor was having to spend a good chunk of the money she had earned working last summer on hiring a sleazy-looking lawyer whose office was littered with Chinese takeout that had sprouted enough molds that Ali wanted to take one for Biology lab. She could have asked her parents to find and pay for her to have a better one, but she was too ashamed of her own stupidity to tell them of her situation.

Nevertheless, Ali was pretty happy when her attorney told her he had worked out a plea bargain for "alternative punishment". "Like picking up garbage in the park?" she asked him naively.

"No, 8 strokes of the cane," he told her.

"The what?" Ali asked, not sure she had heard him correctly.

"The cane," he explained, "Don't you follow the news? Because of the outbreak of crime among the young, the state has instituted corporal punishment. Instead of wasting the taxpayer's money on sending non-violent offenders to prison or giving them community service, which is really no punishment at all, they give them a quick painful punishment and send them on their way."

Ali looked at her attorney with shock on her face. "And they want to do this to me?"

"You are exactly the type whom this is targeted at, a young non-violent offender, someone who won't want their life interrupted by a prison sentence."

"What do they do exactly?" Ali asked nervously.

"You report to a Corporal Punishment Center. They have separate ones for males and females. A doctor examines you to make sure you are fit. There isn't much doubt in your case that you will be found fit. Then, they strap you to a wooden frame and administer the number of strokes ordered on your bare butt with a rattan that's sort of like a whip."

"Bare butt?" Ali felt sick.

"Yes. In fact, you will be completely naked when you receive your punishment. The humiliation is a big part of the procedure."

"Naked? In front of people?" she asked, incredulously. The lawyer nodded. "How much does it hurt?" Ali asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"Well, of course, I haven't experienced it myself, but my understanding is that it's excruciating. 8 strokes will certainly be no picnic. It will probably leave scars that will stay for a long time, maybe forever. But that is the point I suppose, to impress upon the offender the need to obey the law in the future." He looked to Ali like he was not all that sympathetic to her plight.

"And what if I turn this deal down?" Ali asked the lawyer. "Then you would go to trial," he responded. "The clerk would testify, they have video and audio of the whole thing and your fake ID. I don't see much hope. The maximum for this offense is 20 strokes and one year in jail. With the judges around here, you would almost certainly get at least 15 strokes, maybe 18 and some jail time, possibly up to 6 months. It's hard to say exactly, but I would not recommend you take that chance."

"Also, as part of the deal, the records will be sealed as long as you have no further offenses in the next year. That means when you graduate and apply for jobs and they ask, 'Have you ever been convicted of a crime?' you are legally entitled to answer 'No'."

"So you're saying I have no choice but to let them strip me naked and whip my ass? That's ridiculous," the young student wailed, breaking into tears.

The lawyer handed her a box of Kleenex from his desk. "Look, I'm sorry. This won't be pleasant, but in the circumstances, it's the best we can do."

Allison continued sobbing for a few minutes. Finally, with a series of sniffles she bought herself back under control. "Will my parents find out about this, my friends? I will never be able to face them again." Ali could imagine her mother crying, her father's anger at her and at the system. She thought about walking around campus, with everyone staring at her, whispering, "She's the one who was caned. I wonder what her butt looks like." Ali blushed in shame just at the thought.

The lawyer responded, "No. The punishment is administered in private. Only a few state guards will be there and they are sworn to secrecy. As I mentioned, if you keep clean for a year, there will be no record. Just keep your butt covered until the wounds heal, or, if someone sees, tell them you fell on some sharp rocks or something."

He paused and looked at her, "Are you going to accept the plea bargain? If so, all you have to do is sign right here." He passed her a two page document with sticky tape marking the line above her name. Ali didn't see much in the way of options. She reluctantly picked up the pen and signed.

Ten days later, Ali appeared in court. The judge, a stern looking man around 60 years of age, asked, "Allison Sturgis, you are charged with using a fraudulent identity document to purchase alcohol while underage. How do you plead?"

Ali and her attorney stood. "Guilty, your honor," she said with a tremor in her voice.

"Are you pleading guilty because you are in fact guilty of the charge?"

Ali glanced nervously at her attorney, "Yes, your honor," she replied, her voice almost breaking with the strain.

"Allison Sturgis," the judge announced, "I hereby sentence you to report to the Female Corporal Punishment Center designated by the Department of Corrections, there to be administered 8 strokes of the cane on your bare buttocks. You will receive notification from them in writing as to where and when to report. I realize that you are young, but you ought to know better than to break the laws of this state. I hope that you will accept your punishment as deserved and learn from the experience. Given that this is your first offense, I am placing this matter under my jurisdiction for one year. If, during this time, you do not commit any further offenses, your record will be permanently sealed. I sincerely hope that I never see you again in my court, young lady."

With that he banged down the gavel, rose and left the courtroom. Ali and her attorney did the same.

So, Ali went back to her life as a student, trying her best to ignore the sentence hanging over her. Not wanting any further trouble, she avoided parties where there was alcohol or drugs. She spent most of her time in the library studying, though, on many occasions as she sat staring at her biology text or some calculus problem, her mind wandered to what she imagined her caning might be like. She would be naked and strapped down, that she knew. It was a female center so the others being flogged would be women, but would there be male guards? She didn't know.

There wasn't a whole lot of information she could find on line either. It seemed that people who had been caned weren't anxious to talk about it. Ali didn't blame them; she doubted she would be either. After a couple of weeks had passed with no notice, Ali even began hoping that somehow her case had gotten lost in the system. Mistakes happened after all.

Then, she got an email from the campus post office that there was a registered letter waiting for her. Since Ali never got registered letters, and rarely any snail mail at all, she had little doubt what this would be. She walked over to the post office with butterflies in her stomach, signed the card and was handed an envelope from the Department of Corrections. She was too afraid of breaking down to open it at the post office, so she took it immediately back to her dorm room and, with trembling hands, opened the envelope.

Inside was a letter instructing her to report to Female Corporal Punishment Center #3, located just outside Dorsbury, at 9 AM on April 2, which was 8 days off.

There was also a sheet entitled: "Instructions for Offenders Sentenced to Corporal Punishment", which read as follows:

1. Arrival at the Correctional Center-You are required to arrive at the time and place specified on the enclosed letter. Failure to appear as instructed, will result in a warrant being issued for your arrest and will subject you to additional punishment including extra cane strokes and prison. You must bring with you this letter, along with a government-issued photo ID. No other personal effects, other than keys for the vehicle used to transport you to the center are permitted. Do not bring cell phones, computers or music/video players.

2. Banned Substances-It is a mandatory that you experience the full effect of the punishment which you have been sentenced to receive, without interference. The following must not be consumed for 48 hours prior to your report time: There followed a list of drugs including pain killers, anti-anxiety drugs and a number of other drugs. Blood will be drawn during your medical exam at the Center for later testing. If you turn up positive for banned substances you will be ordered to return to the Center and your punishment will be re-administered.

3. Rules of Conduct-While within the Center, all offenders are subject to the Rules of Conduct. They are required to obey all orders from staff and to cooperate fully with all directives. Failure to do so, along with insubordination, physical resistance or any other misconduct will subject the offender to a summary punishment at the discretion of the Director of the Center, who is authorized to add up to 4 strokes to the court-ordered sentence.

4. Recovery-Corporal punishment as administered in this state is designed to be a traumatic experience. While the punishment is administered on the buttocks where no internal organs are present, the cane used can damage tissues at the site of administration and may provoke some bleeding. Therefore, offenders receiving more than 4 strokes are generally kept overnight for observation. Depending on the condition of the buttocks at release, offenders may be advised to seek medical treatment. It is recommended that offenders wear loose fitting clothing when they report, since contact with the wounded tissue may cause discomfort for some time after the punishment.

Ali read the notices with increasing trepidation and a sense of nausea in the pit of her stomach. "Traumatic experience, damage tissues, bleeding," this all sounded like a nightmare. She couldn't possibly go through with it. She called her lawyer to ask what she could do.

"Nothing," he told her. "This is the law. You should have thought of that before you used the fake ID. I'm sorry, but, it's too late now. Look, I've had other clients who went through this; they survived, they recovered, they went on with their lives. Listen, I have to go."

There was silence on the line. "Thanks for your concern," Ali muttered.

She was terrified and the worst part was that she was too ashamed to tell anyone. Not her parents, not her friends. She would have to face this alone. Ali broke down, bawling like a baby, curled into a ball on her bed. This was truly the worst thing that had ever happened to her and the worst part was, it was her own fault.

The next week passed slowly for Allison. She cried herself to sleep a few times and several times found herself waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night from nightmares about being whipped naked. Waking from the nightmares provided little comfort, because she knew they were only too real, that she really would be whipped naked in a few days.

And now, it wasn't a few days, it was today. Allison showered in the common women's shower area. She supposed after her caning she would have to pick odd hours for bathing, so the other girls wouldn't see her butt in its damaged state. Then she dressed in her loosest sweat pants, a T shirt with a Dorsbury sweat shirt over it and flip flops and ate a very light breakfast (her stomach was churning).

At 8:30, she got in the car her parents had bought for her and drove the 10 minutes to the Punishment Center. That meant she was 20 minutes early, but she was terrified of the consequences of being late. She had to hang around outside the door, but students at the college never had reason to come to this part of town (except for her, of course), so the chances of being seen by someone who knew her were minuscule. Allison wondered how many other girls would show up closer to 9 to be caned here today.