(Author): Some years ago, a girlfriend of mine did time in the county jail and, after her release, told me she had been spanked by a female guard while incarcerated! This was a tremendous turn on for me and, eventually, I persuaded her to put it in writing. I have it to this day (still turns me on!), so I pass along "Lauren's jail spanking" and hope you enjoy it as much as I have (note that the first several paragraphs contained personal information and have been omitted). The story begins after Lauren has reported to the jail to begin serving a 30 day sentence for civil disobedience...
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(Lauren's text):...then came the dreaded strip search. I was taken into a small supply room used to strip search incoming females. A lady guard escorted me in, removed my handcuffs and told me to take off all my clothes and put them on the table. "Everything comes off," she commanded when I got down to my panties. As I slid down this last vestige of my pride, I noticed that the matron -- an attractive officer named "Martin" - was sneaking looks at me. She was all business in her regulation guard uniform, but seemed understanding. Since I was completely naked in her presence, however, I was too nervous and confused to hope she might have like actually like me.
"You're so petite," said Officer Martin - and then seemed a bit taken back by this lapse in her professional demeanor. "Hands over your head," she ordered, regaining a commanding attitude. As she checked over my hair, ears and mouth, it occurred to me she might be a lesbian and could possibly be enjoying this close proximity to my naked body. I had never been with a lesbian, but a faintly erotic feeling started to well up "down there" and I wanted to believe she might protect me while I was locked up. The idea of being in jail was scary and having Officer Martin like me enough to protect me was somewhere among my confused and jumbled thoughts. Anyway, the strip search continued and, as I was lifting each of my breasts, I joked "they're pretty small; hard to hide anything under them." This got a fleeting grin from Officer Martin who nevertheless asked me to turn around and take a wide stance.
It's really humiliating to have to spread your buttocks open and let a stranger shine a flashlight up and down your bottom and genital openings -- but being asked to separate your labia is really the pits. Officer Martin didn't miss a thing! After I raised each of my feet and spread my toes, I was told to stand and turn around. She told me I looked clean enough (I had scrubbed with extra diligence that morning before reporting to jail) and that, for me, she would skip the shower and delousing procedure reserved for more odious prisoners.
Next I was issued jail issue clothing -- three pairs of ugly white panties and bras, three pairs of white socks, flip flops and two grey jail shifts, size small, with "INMATE" on the back. I was also given the plastic baggie I had been instructed to bring with my toothbrush, etc. While I was dressing in this convict attire, Officer Martin was examining my street clothes and began making idle conversation. "Your chart said you're going to be staying with us for thirty days -- something about civil disobedience."
I told her I been arrested in a demonstration and had thrown something at a police officer. A really stupid mistake.
Officer Martin looked at me grinning and said "you don't really need to be locked up, you just need a good spanking." I thought she might be joking and agreed that a spanking would be a lot better than jail. She couldn't know that I had harbored fantasies about being spanked ever since, some years back, I provoked a summer camp counselor into punishing me. That spanking was probably against camp policy (she had yanked my pants and panties down out in the woods and given me a few swats with her hand on my bare bottom) but I never told anyone about it because, frankly, it left me with strange, erotic feelings. I've masturbated remembering the incident many times. So thinking about Officer Martin's offhand remark about my needing a spanking got me a bit "squishy" at night lying in my cell bunk.
Jail was horrible -- hot (it was summer), overcrowded and all hard surfaces. You could never get comfortable and we were continuously locked up in the "pen" area to which our cells opened. Each cell was for two women sharing one toilet -- but on weekends there were at least three of us in each cell -- one sleeping on a mat on the floor. The shower was in a corner of the pen area (they only turned the water on twice a day for an hour) and I imagine most men would love to have been a fly on the wall in that jail. You saw women of all shapes and sizes, behind bars, in varying states of undress, using the toilets, often wearing only underwear and sometimes completely naked as they waited to take a shower. The guards were kept busy badgering inmates to cover themselves -- especially when maintenance men were on the floor. Most of the women had been in jail before and had long since dropped any pretense of modesty. Always a bit of a "preppie," I tried to keep a neat appearance in my jail shift, even if it was ill fitting and uncomfortable. Officer Martin told me she liked that fact I maintained my appearance and several times complimented my looks. I began to suspect she had a little crush on me, so I was quick to smile and flirt when in her presence. On several occasions we joked about my needing a spanking. After about a week of this budding friendship, however, I began to catch some sharp comments from the other inmates who seemed to think I was becoming her pet -- and even the other guards were harder on me.
When a large "butch" inmate started shoving me around one afternoon, guards rushed in and pushed us both to the floor where we were handcuffed. We were then escorted to solitary cells to be "cooled off."
Locked in a small (10' x 15') single inmate cell, I was instructed to disrobe completely and hand my things through the bars to the guard. Apparently being stark naked in a cell was part of the cooling off process. I sat on my bare mattress without a stitch of clothing on and wondered how much more humiliating jail could be for a female. The guards assigned to the segregation cells kept a constant watch, making even masturbation impossible. There was nothing to do but lie on my bunk with my legs open. It might seem hard to believe that I would openly expose my pussy this way, but, with all dignity gone, I was left with the insane notion that if the women guards here were lesbians, they might as well enjoy seeing my nude body. I took it as a sign I had gone completely mad.
I was naked for an entire restless night, but when morning came, Officer Martin was there. Just her presence made me feel modest again and I tried to cover up as she beckoned me to the bars. Speaking in a low voice she said chided "you ARE a bad girl!"
"I didn't start it," I said, "and added, "why am I here? I didn't do anything!" "The guards felt you were in danger," said Officer Martin in a kindly voice, "so you're here as a precaution. But I think I can make this work to your advantage..."
