Rosie woke up in a strange bed. There was sunlight coming into the room through slatted blinds over a window. Her head rested on a feather pillow, which was a world of difference from her own bedding back at her own flat.
She stretched her arms out and smiled contently and she took in her surroundings.
The room was small but well presented in a modern taste. There was a desk and chair in the corner, and she was lying in the double bed. The decor was subtle and modern. There was piece of artwork on the wall in a deep frame. Well, almost certainly a print, Rosie assumed.
She could smell coffee and bacon coming from the kitchen and swung her legs around and out of bed, placing her bare feet on a plush carpet. She slipped the borrowed tracksuit on and opened the bedroom door into the open plan living area of the flat.
Over in the kitchen area, Stacey was at the cooker serving a cooked breakfast onto plates. "Ah, good morning," she said to Rosie, "that's perfect timing. Did you sleep well?"
"Perfectly. Thank you. This is all very good service," Rosie said, smiling as she sat down.
Stacey had been true to her word when she met her at court the previous day. They had gone straight to Stacey's house and spent the rest of the afternoon on the sofa watching TV, drinking a huge amount of tea and hot chocolate and talking about anything that didn't involve drink driving, police, court or a cane.
Stacey had felt so guilty when she saw her friend being handcuffed and put into the police car. It had been her own suggestion to simply move the car around the corner and she blamed herself for the situation her friend was now in. Stacey had always carried a torch for Rosie that she had kept secret, for fear of spoiling the friendship. She admired Rosie who had done so much more with her career than Stacey had managed. She was funny and witty but shy which Stacey found so appealing.
Stacey did not consider herself lesbian and in fact had a very casual thing going with one of the men from the gym she went to. In reality though, that was just for the sex. There was nothing more to that and it suited Stacey that way. However, there was something about Rosie that often created a stirring feeling of arousal in her. Stacey wasn't sure if it was physical, although she couldn't deny thinking about what Rosie's breasts might look like free from the constraints of clothing. Clothing that had, in an ideal world, been discarded on the floor in Stacey's own flat. A fantasy she had never shared with anyone. A fantasy she had barely admitted to herself.
She hadn't planned to invite Rosie to hers. She had been filled with guilt and sorrow for her friend when the sentence was read out that her heart has melted. Then when she saw her coming out of the custody area with the uniformed officer, looking every bit the prisoner, she had embraced her friend and blurted it out.
As soon as she'd said it, she regretted it, not wanting to come across as pushy but incredibly, Rosie had agreed. All the way home as she drove the car, she was stealing glances at her friend sitting next to her in the passenger seat. Rosie was obviously struggling to make small talk and was suffering from her experience over the previous hours. Stacey could make out red marks around Rosie's wrists which, Stacey knew, were handcuff marks. She concentrated on not thinking about that and getting distracted, instead making small talk to save Rosie from having to converse too much.
And now, here she was in her flat. Rosie had stayed in the spare room last night. An agonising dilemma for Stacey who just wanted to hold her friend and reassure her that everything would be ok. She couldn't do that though. That would certainly cross a boundary the pair had never crossed before. She had not slept well though. The beds in the two rooms are against the same wall, so Stacey had known that their heads were only a few feet apart, separated by only a couple of sheets of board that make up the wall. So close, but so agonisingly far.
She'd given up relatively early and got up and showered, deciding to make breakfast for the two of them.
Rosie was tucking into the eggs and bacon enthusiastically, obviously having regained her appetite that she hadn't had the previous evening.
"So. What do you want to do today?" asked Stacey.
"I want to get this over with and out of the way. Is going to hang over me otherwise. But then I don't know."
Stacey considered for a moment. "Ok," she said, standing to get her laptop. "Do you have the papers you were given?"
Rosie collected the bundle and for the first time, began to properly look through them all. The top document was very imposing in its own right. It was entitled 'Warrant for Corporal Punishment' in block bold typeface. The new legislation was listed 'Section 37a of Criminal and Civil Justice Act (2018) and The Corporal Punishment (Summary Justice) Regulations (2019)' and then her name, address and date of birth.
Rosie immediately regretted picking the document up. All of the stress and upset from the previous day came flooding back. She continued to read. The offences that Rosie had committed were listed. Then the punishments to which she had been sentenced. She could feel a cool tingle down her spine and into the pit of her stomach.
'A) Twenty (20) cane strokes to the abdomen; B) (1) hour of public humiliation display (restricted audience) with pain stimulant to breasts (restriction), concurrent to the punishment A, above.'
Rosie stopped reading and sat still. Stacey noticed the change in her friend and took the warrant from her to read for herself. "Oh Rosie!" she sighed and held her friends' hand and they sat in silence for a moment.
Rosie cleared her throat and sat up straighter. She took her hand back from Stacey. "It's ok. We knew this. Let's keep going," Rosie said, her voice little more than a whisper.
Stacey began to help sort through the papers, "here we are," she said, "I've found the instructions for the appointment.
"Ok, we can book online or make a call," Stacey said.
"Let's do it online. I don't want to talk to anyone," said Rosie.
"Sure," said Stacey, reaching for the laptop she'd collected earlier. She took the warrant off the table and typed in some details.
Rosie couldn't quite decide how she was feeling. She was really very grateful to Stacey, for her help and support, but she was also embarrassed and ashamed about the upcoming punishment. She tried not to think about what Stacey was actually doing as she watched her type and scroll, her face contorted in concentration and a stray whisp of hair falling down over her cheek.
"Where do you want to go for it?" Stacey asked, "There's a few choices. Some are greyed out for some reason."
