Comparative Punishment Field Notes Ch 02 1

Author's Note

Dear Readers. This is the second chapter of my first story to make it from the movie theater in my mind to words on paper on Literotica.

No sex. Set on planets other than Earth, but very little sci-fi stuff. Spankings (F/F). No male MCs. Mild humiliation. Punishment panties. No one under 18 is punished, fantasized about, or naked in any way in this story.

I am more interested in your thoughts about what might be improved, than in what (little) I may have gotten right in crafting a story enjoyable to read. If you hoped for a whack-a-mole or sex, this series is deficient. Don't penalize me for that, please. Do what you will with stars, although I have enough of an ego to hope eventually they populate my galaxy.

PS. I haven't written most of the third chapter of this story. Suggestions about what may happen in Margo's life next (after her first public punishment begun in this chapter ends!) would be welcome. Does she, for example, find she must discipline Rosemary at the Autumn School?

Thank you

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Margo's Warm Welcome & What Disobedient Young Ladies Wear to Their Punishments

Strange things happen when human colonies expand to the stars. Cute pets made the trip, as did a dozen ways to make mash, aka alcoholic beverages. Troublesome family members sprouted as easily as on the home planet. We humans took our ways with us. Before we blew, or rather, blew up the Earth, corporal punishment, as a consequence for misbehavior, was debatable to prohibited. Now it has had a renaissance on some colonies, asteroids, and planets.

Social-science field work is booming at stellar-class universities. My applied comparative human psychology thesis advisor, Madame Profesora Lieu, approved my thesis proposal to study the correlation of corpus punishment and education on Battaga2, known to its inhabitants as Better Bat or simply BB. After she spanked and strapped me purple to gain my no longer reluctant consent to the topic and the field research.

This is my first letter to my dissertation advisor.

Written on board the tramp freighter Miss Naomi IV before arrival

Dear Profesora Lieu,

As promised here are my first impression notes.

Before going, I knew Better Bat believed in universal education, scientific method, personal integrity, and corporal punishment. While finding all on a world is unusual, it probably isn't unique ... because new planets and asteroids are inhabited faster than news or research findings from them percolate back to older worlds, like Gliese.

The discovery that made me want to study BB for my thesis was an odd quote in the slim Better Bat survey notes in the archives. "Those who teach, those who parent, those who correct, those who are unmarried, must themselves be subject to regular correction."

As you know, the plan is for me to teach on Better Bat, to corporally (corpus is their word) correct my students, and to live with a family because of my status as an unmarried woman. There I will be subject to correction as any unmarried BB daughter. These three parts of my life should intersect and generate plenty of research data.

Thank you for encouraging me to present myself as a potential migrant to Better Bat. It is genuine enough. Teddy, my tortoise, and I yearn for a habitat with wild aquatic life.

I qualify for a teacher's position. My experience as a teaching assistant at the Universidad is relevant. Most useful, BB officials say, is my TA experience tutoring both math and galactic languages.

I will stay with a family. How will they treat me? Getting punished and humiliated by strangers is, I don't know, embarrassing just to think about? Scary? A piece of torte? Nope, not the last.

My only prior interstellar voyage was my trip from my home world on Jupiter's moon Ganymede to Gliese, so this extended trip is both different and similar. Student's (and poor TA's) steerage passage and cryosleep can only vary so much. The only difference is the number of times we awake to spend a few hours in orbital facilities around planets along the way, and a 'once in a lifetime' excursion to a planet's surface in the Katanga sector.

In our 'local' passenger-freighter's minuscule observation room, a vibrant yellow hue dominates the decor. The walls of my once home abode on Ganymede crumbled mercilessly when I was merely seven years old. A large fragment of space flotsam ripped through the dome, killing my beloved father and younger brother.

Trapped within a confining space barely larger than a school locker, my body contorted and compressed for more than a day before rescue. The harrowing experience reverberating with piercing sensory screams of yellow debris grinding against each other. Yellow fragments of walls, remnants of carpeting, smushed furniture, shattered decorative objects, and a solitary, living stargazer lily, emitting a faint scent of yellow, battered me.

Mom loved yellow. I hate it. There is nothing yellow at home, in my apartment on Gliese, or in my wardrobe.

Shades of yellow decorate the freighter's public spaces. My shared cabin, when I'm not in cryosleep, is a soothing early-morning blue. My refuge except for one meal a day and trips to the shared fresher.

Written a day after landing on Better Bat (with later revision)

For whatever scientific or ideological reasons, the founders and the current leading mothers and fathers of Better Bat have not built an orbital transfer station, so the ship's lander took three of us to the surface.

Julio, Omega, and I disembarked in a field outside what appears to be a small city of multi-color one-story buildings. Welcoming officials ascertain promptly and scientifically that we are the expected passengers. Retinal scan, brain image, and body-biomorphic testing is fast even on this fringe world. My limited possessions pass through rapid but thorough vetting.

Welcoming committee? Smiles, relaxed postures, disarming words as the verification finishes. Each of us has a host couple who load us in their family surface transpos, and off we go.

My designated family, the Alianas, have children who attend the combined school where I will be teaching. They charmingly name it 'Autumn On Better Bat Senior and Junior School' (commonly 'Autumn'). Nancy Alianas is a mild-seeming, smallish, smiling woman, with a younger woman's figure and poliosis, which I learn is a splash of white in her black hair.

Her hourglass figure, I later learn, is a product of the ubiquitous, and very comfortable, corsets that most women wear here. A Better Bat founder evidently brought along an ancient non-fiction story of a woman in the 21st century who debunked corset myths of pain and discomfort:

Victorian Secrets, What a Corset Taught Me about the Past, the Present, and Myself

, by a Sarah A. Chrisman.

On my home world, Ganymede, gravity is low and we bud tall, lean, and without ample bosoms, although they don't sag rapidly. Mine are teacup size on the venerable egg cup to coffee cup to challenge cup breast measuring scale.

[Profesora: I snuck in the following note in two days after I drafted my letter. Delete or reorder it please if you decide to publish my letters to you as a travel-log in a research journal. Which you threaten to do.]

One fortunate discovery on BB in the days to come is the benefit of demi-cup corsets (corsets are not mandatory but are in fashion here) that support my breasts from underneath. They provide all the support that my uncomfortable wireless bras did on high gravity Gliese, without pinching and neck pain. Surprisingly easy to don and remove, with so much less pain and physical restriction than I had been led to believe.

Law, and inflexible custom, do not permit single persons of any age to live alone, aka unsupervised, on BB. Widows and widowers are not an exception. So, I must live with the Alianas family, where I will share a room with their eldest daughter, Geovana (Ginny) who is a year younger than I. Nancy, the mother, and I talk while she shows me the house, how to operate their foodgenie and the shower, where to find supplies and freshers, and we talk about daily routines. Promising.

Both parents expect their younger children, Rosemary and Iris, to arrive home soon from Autumn School and Ginny from her job as a chemist in training at the waste reforming plant. The Alianas sit me down to explain house discipline.

I will be teaching at the Autumn school. Their daughters?

On my trip out to BB I reflected on my personal punishment and discipline history. My parents spanked me growing up on Ganymede. Most children were, but each parent decides how, when, and with what severity. Nothing approaches uniformity among our people in beliefs about efficacy or method.

Gliese, my university's planet, is a more of a hodgepodge. No Gliese laws limit or encourage corporal punishment at home, other than vague "abuse" statutes. Most assuredly, there is no training for parents on how to correct behavioral, academic, or mischief problems, on either Gliese or Ganymede.

Some school districts permit teachers to chastise their students in moderation; in other districts corporal punishment is not a behavior reforming (and disciplinary) tool available to teachers. Religious and ideological groups have their views. Hands vs canes (and anything in between), over clothing vs on-the-bare, all are mooted somewhere if corporal aka corpus punishment is an option.

I know I will have the responsibility to discipline my students at the Autumn school. Before I have time to ask if their daughters will be in my class, which would be so conflicting, they move on and I lost the opportunity to ask.

The Alianas, Nancy and Jonas, explain basic house rules. Curfews, chores, cooperation, cleanliness, language, honesty, no sass. The usual. Well, no. Their rule is "no" to only 'some' mind-altering substances. Caffeine and chocolate are mind-altering, after all. I laugh at this quaint view.

Punishment is bare bottom with hand, spanking stick, or strap. Again, familiar except for the spanking stick. There are what they call "enhancements," but defer the explanation until their children return. "Forgiveness" and the "slate being wiped clean" after correction are what I naively assume is true universally. As it should be, but I will keep my anthropology eyes and brain open.

Some rules are new to me: Getting permission to go to mixed-group events, or out with a young man ...at 23? Regular sleep schedule? Room checks for tidiness? If punished at home or school, then there may be consequences at work or school the next day?

It's early, but here's something neat. They tell me a spanker must prove, before she may discipline, that she is relaxed. Not filled with too much anger. An amazing technology, which I will explain or debunk in my study documentation. More about this as I learn more.

A photo record?

A photo record! It seems they capture color photos of the post-spanking bottom (thighs too, if targeted) of every miscreant. Parents and children keep a collection of these images, which are reviewed every birthday and then destroyed. 'Authorities' may 'review' them, too, but I know nothing about that yet.

I think Nancy Alianas added, "unless something more embarrassing is necessary." Overload. Do they take post-spanking photos at work? Must I take photos of my students?

Birthday spankings are not a custom! A small blessing. My 24th birthday is two weeks away.

Most amazing: Parents usually apply at home punishments in public. At home, in public? Depending on the time of day, the weather, and perhaps the misbehavior? (Nancy wasn't clear and/or my mind is reeling.) 'Public' means in front of the family home!

From sunrise to sunset, they apply any needed punishment in front of their home. In front of their home! The Alianas mete out corporal punishment to a bare-bottom girl or young woman in public. Well, to any woman in the household, but I didn't learn that until later.

From sunset to sunrise, LED lights train on the woman and her family, providing no cover at night, either.

They explain Ginny earned a public punishment because of something at her work in the past few days. They postponed her punishment so that I could have a practical demonstration. This afternoon they will administer her public consequences for misbehavior.

Nancy confides in me, as she shows me around their home, "Ginny is a mischief."

Ginny arrives home. We talk while putting my things away in our room, which is done in shades of yellow! This color will kill me. My mind and stomach roil, and not in tandem.

I like her immediately. She whispers she misses sharing a room with her older, now married, sister and gossiping into the night. Although, she warns me, we must whisper softly or risk an immediate bottom warming. The Alianas take sleep hygiene as a sky-gods mandated necessity. There are several other sky-god mandates I discover.

Ginny is, of course, petite to my tall. Ample to my spare. Red hair, with a tint of purple, to my deep-space black. We share a black wispy bush, or would have, before I shaved mine off. Depilation is necessary before cryosleep for women. BB women do not wear makeup, but body wash is acceptable. Hers is lavender.

Oh, should I mention that men on Better Bat shave everywhere around the groin? I learned this after seeing a couple of public punishments of young men. Up close, personal field exploration of that territory of male anatomy didn't occur until long after my arrival in the Alianas' home. Her figure is hourglass, her posture straight. I saw her corset a couple of minutes later, when we were disrobing. Profesora, I'll explain corsets in a thesis note.

Eventually, after a pleasant all-family meal, Nancy Alianas pronounced: "Ginny, please go prepare. Margaret," using the formal version of my 'Margo', "go with her and let Ginny explain preparation to you."

We shower in the fresher and Ginny and I change into what she tells me are spanking blouses. "Easy to pin up," she adds. They come with two large, vibrant neon-purple safety pin accessories. Our skirts must be easy to unzip. Ginny tells me that all the Alianas' daughters have their own "spanking" clothes to meet these simple requirements. For now, I cover myself in a set she borrowed specially for me to wear for this event.

Something borrowed, something blue, something old, and something new.

Both blouse and skirt look like scrubs. Her mom has tasked her with helping me acquire my own soon. She tells me, with a hint of pleasure, that a girl may choose the color for her spanking grab.

No doubt I'll be dressing for real like this in the future. Do I need to do this for a thesis? Spanked at age 24? Why?

Only panties are missing so far; I wonder why.

Ginny clarifies it is customary to keep wearing a panty until you are outside, highlighting the cultural significance of this practice. The word "panty" elicits a laugh from me, which I share with Ginny.

I tell her that in my galactic language courses, I use "panties" to break the ice with each new class. I open with something like this:

"Welcome to Introductory Galactic Languages. I am Miss Arabella.

"Imagine travel is in your future. You land on a new colony. Your clothing, including your underwear, does not disembark with you. You need to buy some soonest. Or, perhaps you desire to compliment someone met early on for her sexy underwear.

"What word do you use? These are some right words: bragas, culotte, nèikù, knickers, or the word we use here on Gliese: 'panties'. You will simply need to know which one applies to the colony. You will learn that fluency here."

Inevitably, there is a pause, a gasp or two, then plenty of giggles from the girls and snickers from the young men. I continue, "To be fair, ladies, suppose your male companion loses his luggage, or a hunk is in your travel romance plans. You wish to comment about his 'slip da boxer', his 'jock strap', his ... you get it.

"Students," I continue the story for Ginny's benefit, "for extra credit on your first quiz, provide the words for 'sexy', which is a pretty useful adjective with panties and boxers. For each galactic language, naturally. A hint: two of them are variants of the same language."

Back to the panty in question. Until the previous year, Ginny tells me, girls could wear any undies they were willing to share with the public when removing it for punishment. However, she groans, one of this years' psychology experiments about applied consequences speaks directly to undergarments to be worn after punishment.

Ginny explains that all unmarried women, [redacted age at which parents spank small people growing up] and over, are aliquoted this year to one of three groups. The first group will continue their normal post-punishment wall time, wearing no panties while they stand there.

Of course, if a punishment results from misbehavior at school or work, standard 'rules of display' for the girl's bottom the next day remain unchanged. Usually an hour of her bare, punished bottom on some form of exposed display.

'Modesty' never trumps punishment on Better Bat. Another note I read about the planet before I arrived told me their scientists had 'proven' that the less modesty permitted, the more effective the behavior modification. It is a statement for which I had no context. Not self-proving, as one-person statistics aren't. Well, it wasn't then. Now ...

The experiment prohibits the second group of women from any panties for the balance of the punishment day. If the public punishment at home results from misbehavior referred by work or school, the individual may not wear any panties all the next day.

Oh, space gods. What Hades is this planet?

Women here are subject to bare bottom school and work 'reviews' after an 'at home' correction, Ginny tells me. The reverse of 'spanked at school, spanked at home' philosophy on my home world. This will be a daunting, unknown world of extended corporal consequences, humiliation, and emotional pain. Despite the comfortable temperature in the Alianas' home, I shiver.

Absolutely fascinating and devastatingly embarrassing just to hear about and mentally picture myself the subject of such a spanking and then display. I hear the thesis-student cliché,

Your immersive research is Job One,

is about to land on my fanny. I shudder again.

Ginny hurries me along to her explanation of the experiment for women in the third group, because we are due before her parents soon. I will be in this group because I lived with the Alianas and they are in the third section for the research experiment.

No, no, no, no.

We, I, will wear 'punishment panties'. Some sort of scratchy fabric ... in golden goddess yellow.

"No, no, no, no." My eyes close, my body shakes, and I sniffle. Begin to hyperventilate.

"What's wrong, Margo? They really aren't that terrible if you walk with your legs slightly apart and avoid sitting if you can."

"I, I ... can't wear yellow. I can't bear yellow. This room is horrid for me, and to wear those ..."

"Margo, why? No, we better get back to the parents. Tell me later."

She dons, well, eases up gingerly her tight yellow punishment panties and zips up her skirt. Ginny advises me to pull on a fresh pair of my nèikù. A look in the mirror, two flicks of our hairbrushes, and off we go. I avoid looking in the mirror, not wanting to see the evidence of my tears.

Once an academic, always an academic? Deep in my subconsciousness, the researcher in me pipes up:

This is exceptional research data. Take notes, Margo, whispers the nerd side of me. If you don't, maybe I'll pop up out of your subconscious and demand the Alianas punish you right now, too.

I follow Ginny's odd gait back to her parents and two younger sisters in the kitchen. They are gabbing away happily. The only sign of the pending punishment is a dark gray stick, maybe 44 cm long by 1 cm, (17 in by 3/8ths inch) with a caramel leather grip. I've seen many pictures of spanking sticks and read enough about them to recognize this instrument of correction. This one looks like steel, totally inflexible and likely to bruise with the first whip. [It is wood-like, not steel and it has some flex. Profesora, more on spanking implements and how they compare will, I suspect, be a part of my thesis.]