PROLOGUE
It had been a rough year for 65-year old Bert Charrington. January had started with the loss of his beloved wife of 43 years to cancer, and the year hadn't improved since his retirement from his law firm in the summer. He thought he would love the free time his new lack of responsibility afforded him, but he instead found himself bored and lonely, finding company in books and the few friends from the local pub who hadn't moved to Florida yet. He spoke with his son occasionally, but he was busy with his own life and lived many hours away.
One Friday evening in early December, Bert found himself, as usual, having a few drinks at Smitty's Pub. His friend Don approached him, accompanied by a neatly dressed middle-aged man.
"Bert!" he cried, slapping him on the back, "How ya doin?"
"Same old, same old," said Bert, standing up and embracing his old friend, "How you been Don?"
"Still alive, so pretty good I guess! Say, Bert, I wanted to introduce you to my nephew Jack. You know these new laws that got passed a few months back? Well, Jack is the Chief Disciplinary Officer for the county, and I thought you two should meet. Might be an early Christmas present for you in it."
Don gave him a wink. Intrigued, Bert shook hands with Don's nephew.
"Good to meet you, Mr. Charrington," Jack said, "Uncle Don has told me a bit about you. I mentioned that we were looking for some men for a new type of experimental punishment regime we're phasing in, and, if you're interested, you might fit the bill."
Bert raised an eyebrow.
"Please, call me Bert. You've certainly got my attention! I've read a bit about these new laws, but as a retired lawyer I'm embarrassed to admit that I haven't gotten into the details. How might I be able to help?"
Jack nodded.
"Well, let me give you a little background. As you probably heard, the Women's Corrective Enhancements Act went into effect at the beginning of October. Generally, it provides for the use of corporal punishment on certain female offenders. The first phase was the opening of the Punishment Centers, which have been running well, as you may have read about. However, there are also alternative punishment regimes permitted under the law, and we're in the process of getting those running, including the experimental one that I had in mind for you.
Currently, we're starting up what we call "Private Domestic Punishments". As part of this effort, we are recruiting men who can carry out punishments on the young ladies sentenced under the new laws. Specifically, we need men who own their own home, preferably secluded, so the neighbors aren't bothered by the punishments. The men need to be respectable, with no criminal record. And they need to be fit enough to carry out what can sometimes be physically demanding work. And, for reasons I shouldn't get into here, widowers with no children living at home are preferred.
From what my uncle tells me, you fit our candidate profile perfectly. Would you be interested?"
Bert stared.
"Well, I'm, um... flattered that Don would think of me! But I don't know much about this. Would these women be coming over my house? What kind of punishments are we talking about?"
"Yes, you'd be hosting these young ladies for anywhere from a few hours to a couple days, but usually including at least one overnight stay. One at a time, probably between two and four times per month. As far as the punishments, we're mostly talking about corporal punishments. Spanking, belting, caning and the like. There's also... other punishments, but we can talk about those at a later date.
You'll receive training on how to deliver these punishments, so don't worry if you aren't experienced in these matters. What do you think?"
"Can I have the night to think about it?" asked Bert, "It's a lot to take in. But yes, I'm interested."
"Of course," said Jack, handing Bert a business card. "My mobile number is on there, call me when you've thought about it some more."
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"Bert, Jack Richardson here. Are you ready for your first assignment?"
It was mid-February, and the past two and a half months had been a whirlwind for Bert. He had accepted Jack's offer the morning after their meeting, and the same day had been thrust into months of physical and psychological tests, daily training, and, eventually, a series of certification tests, ensuring that he had properly learned the details of the new laws and mastered the skills he would be needing in his new position.
For the first time since his wife's death, Bert found himself excited about the future. He had aced his certifications, and Jack had told him privately that he had the highest scores of all their new Domestic Punishment Agents.
"Jack, great to hear from you! I'm ready. Excited to get started," said Bert.
"That's great to hear, Bert. This first assignment is a bit of a challenge, throwing you in the deep end, but the judge saw fit to pass this sentence. Since no Domestic Punishment Agent has any experience yet, as the highest scorer with the most punishment certifications, I've decided to ask you to handle this. I'm sending over the details now, take a look and see what you think. I can wait."
Bert's phone buzzed, and he opened the message he'd just received. His eyes widened.
"Wow, not what I expected for my first assignment! But you can count on me," said Bert.
"That's what I was hoping you'd say. Ms. Prixton will be dropped off at your house this Friday at 6pm. She will remain in your custody until 6pm on Sunday. That gives you a few days to prepare, which I assume will be sufficient."
Bert confirmed it would and wrapped up the call. He smiled to himself in anticipation of the upcoming weekend.
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DAY 1
Bert was waiting outside his door when the police sedan transporting 19-year old Hailey Prixton arrived. He looked very much a kindly grandpa in khakis and a sweater vest.
A police officer opened the back door and let Hailey out. She didn't look the type to be a felon, Bert thought. But, then again, as a lawyer he'd seen all sorts, and he admonished himself not to judge a book by its cover.
Hailey was petite, 5'2" and 105 pounds, according to the bio sheet that Bert had reviewed. She had long, straight brown hair that extended a few inches past her shoulders, and was pretty and well put together, looking every bit like a freshman sorority girl. But she wasn't. Instead Hailey had barely finished high school, and from what Bert had read was currently unemployed and living with her boyfriend, with whom she had recently stolen a car.
Bert smiled and offered his hand to the young woman as she was escorted over to him. Hailey, who looked nervous, shook it tentatively.
