Tuesday, August 25, 2015

From the Top Shelf - Lucy Goes to Town

It seems that Lucy has some more research to do. She has planned a little escapade, starting with a shopping trip. The village, as you may recall, is out of bounds to Carstairs girls. Will Lucy be found out? Read on:

Lucy made her way out of the building and round to the stables at the back. She had spotted a cycle there when she and the other girls had been arranging Juliette's encounter with Mr Parry-Jones and subsequently observed that it belonged to one of the domestic staff. Swiftly she took a quick glance around her to ensure that no member of staff was in the vicinity, then mounted the bike and set off down the drive.

The ride into the village took about ten minutes, and Lucy did not see anyone on the way, for which she was grateful, although the very fact that she had broken bounds and taken the cycle without permission was probably enough to at least partly fulfil her self-appointed mission. However, she had grander ideas in mind. One of the first shops which she came to as she entered the main street of the village was a small general store.

Lucy dismounted and went in. The middle-aged woman behind the counter eyed her suspiciously. Lucy was wearing the standard Carstairs uniform of a shortish pleated skirt and plain white blouse covered by a blue cardigan and the woman knew full well that the girls from Carstairs were not normally allowed into the village unaccompanied. She said nothing but watched as Lucy cast an eye around the shop.

"Excuse me, but do you sell spirits?" Lucy's question seemed to throw the woman off balance for a moment.

"Er, yes we do, but we don't have much of a range; just a whisky or two and some cherry brandy". She gestured at a shelf behind the till counter.

"The cherry brandy will do fine, thank you. I'll take it." Lucy thanked her lucky stars that she had thought to hide her credit card about her person when she was first inducted into Carstairs. Miss Parkin had made a big thing about locking all her cash and the few little trinkets of jewellery she had arrived with in the big safe in the general office.

As she left the store clutching her purchase, she could feel the eyes of the woman boring into her back and it was not a pleasant sensation. It was clear that the shopkeeper did not think much of young ladies from Carstairs - and especially those who bought liquor at that time of the morning. However it all fitted neatly into her plan; she knew what had to be done. It was a good job the shop had cherry brandy in stock, it was just about bearable. Lucy hated whisky. Unscrewing the top of the bottle, she took a generous swig before mounting the bike and continuing down the main street.

The sweet fire of the spirit burned her throat and she took another swig, the bike wobbling perilously as she did so. Careful, girl, she thought to herself. The brandy was good for a bit of Dutch courage and would no doubt be a useful anaesthetic later, but it wouldn't do to have a road accident before her plans were completed.

"Damn Sebastian!" The two quick swigs had been enough to make her head swim and she almost missed the policeman who stepped out in front of her wobbling cycle. Almost, but not quite. She hit him fair and square and the cycle, rider and policeman all collapsed in a whirl of arms and legs in the middle of the road. The incriminating evidence of the brandy bottle shattered on the tarmac, spraying spirit over both Lucy and the policeman.

In no time at all, Lucy found herself being booked in at the village police station. Under the glare of the burly desk sergeant she wrote her name on the form which he pushed under her nose. She saw his eyebrows rise as she wrote 'Carstairs' as her address and, in a fit of bravado, 'Temporary' after it. She gave her age as nineteen.

After a brief discussion, they put Lucy into a cell and left her alone, to sober up, as the sergeant put it. She wasn't really drunk, just a bit thick in the head. It took a little while for the enormity of what she had done to sink in, but with only the silence of her own company in the cell, her thought processes soon cleared. She realised that her daring plan had worked to absolute perfection. It was entirely up to her now; there was no going back. She gulped.

Is this really what it feels like? the voice in her head whispered. Is this the real thing? Is this the gut tightening fear you get? Swiftly, she answered her own question. This is as real as it gets.

The voices in her head kept up a cross-talk for quite a while and Lucy could feel the tension in her body both feeding and being fed by, the conversation. After what seemed like hours, the door of her cell opened and the sergeant beckoned to her. "Come along now, young lady, if you please."

"Why? What happens now?" Lucy asked nervously.

"Well, we have been on the telephone to the authorities at your establishment - a Miss Parkin, to be precise. She knows where you are and the circumstances and someone will be along for you directly. But before that, you have to make a little trip - not far - just into the next building."

Lucy got up from her seat, trembling slightly. "What is there? Why do I have to go there?"

"There is a small matter of being under the influence while in charge of a bicycle on the highway to account for, my girl. I dare say that Miss Parkin will have something to say to you later, but right now you have an appointment with the local magistrate. I suggest you don't keep him waiting, if you don't want to make things worse than they already are!"

Meekly, Lucy allowed herself to be taken to the front office of the police station, where the constable she had knocked down was waiting with a woman police constable. The two additional officers formed up behind Lucy and the sergeant led the quartet across the front yard of the station to the adjacent building, which Lucy now realised was the court house. Once inside, they went directly into the courtroom.

The proceedings were brief and to the point. Lucy had no cause for complaint, since she had engineered the whole scenario, but even she was taken aback by their speed and efficiency. The officer she had knocked down, whose name was given as PC George Biggs, gave evidence to the effect that he had been proceeding about his duties when he had observed an erratically ridden bicycle. When he had attempted to arrest its progress, he had been knocked to the ground, but had been able to apprehend the culprit, who now stood before the court. Further evidence concerning Lucy's purchase of the cherry brandy was given with some relish by the stony-faced shopkeeper.

The magistrate, a tweedy old man who brayed rather than spoke, asked Lucy if she had anything to say about the evidence that had been given. Shyly, Lucy said she had not.

The magistrate cleared his throat noisily. "Seems that we have a pretty open and shut case here." The word came out as 'hyaw' and sounded as if he still thought he was addressing troops on a parade ground. "Disgraceful behaviour in one so young. You need a short sharp shock to bring you to your senses. Stand up straight when I'm speaking to you."

The woman constable nudged Lucy sharply in the back and she straightened up. The magistrate was glaring directly at her. "Two offences - drunk in a public place and drunk in charge of a bicycle on a public highway. Very serious. Could have caused a serious accident. Innocent people hurt, that sort of thing. Understand what I'm saying? What?"

Lucy did, in fact, find it quite difficult to understand the staccato form of speech with its abbreviated sentences and drawled vowels but she was getting the general drift of it. Here it comes, she thought to herself. "Please, sir, I'm very sorry, sir." She put on her best little girl voice.

"Sorry's not good enough. As I say, two offences, both serious. Only one course of action, my girl. Do you a lot of good in the long run, you'll see. Young Offenders Act applies in this case. Best legislation for a very long time." There was a pause as he glared at Lucy as if challenging her to disagree. When she made no sound he snorted and pronounced, "Six strokes of the cane to be applied to your bare buttocks as prescribed within the law. That is, six strokes for each offence. Take her down."

As soon as the magistrate had finished speaking, Lucy felt a hand on her shoulder. "Come on now,miss." The sergeant's voice was gentle but firm. "Let's get it over with. We don't want any trouble now, do we?"

"I wasn't going to make any trouble," Lucy was too shocked to even consider making trouble. She had wanted to be sentenced - knew she would be - but now the sentence was pronounced it was double what she had anticipated and she began to wonder if she had made a dreadful mistake. The familiar electric shocks began to pulse through her body.

"Very sensible, miss, if I may say so." The sergeant's tone was almost laughably respectful, given that Lucy was completely in his power and headed for a humiliating experience. "Now just hold out your hands in front of you, hands together if you please." He could have been giving her directions to the local post office, so measured were his words.

Lucy did as she was told and immediately wished that she had not. With a speed which belied his appearance, the policeman produced a pair of steel handcuffs from his back pocket and snapped them over her wrists.

Thus restrained, she was taken from the court room. The small procession, headed by the male constable, then Lucy, followed in turn by the female constable and the sergeant, trooped through the court house to a large room at the back of the building.

Lucy guessed that in the days when the building had been a private house, the room they were in might have been a games room. It was certainly big enough to have held a full sized snooker table. Screwed to the back wall of the room was an ornate scoring pointer above a rack which had clearly been designed to hold snooker cues. The room was devoid of any furniture except for a wooden stool, less than a foot high and completely untrimmed, and a small, plain desk.

Lucy's gaze was drawn to the rack and her heart sank. Instead of snooker cues, the rack now held two canes. They were a matched pair, each one equally vicious, about three and a half feet long and considerably heavier-looking than the one which Miss Williams had been so proud of.

Lucy tried to gather all the mental strength she could. She knew she would need to draw on all her reserves for the coming ordeal. Although this was a totally different environment to the coldly impersonal surroundings of the big police station where she had so recently watched Juliette's introduction to the corrective effects of corporal punishment administered to her bare bottom, she had no doubt this more traditional approach was going to be just as memorable.

The sergeant's voice broke into her thoughts. "Now I hope you are going to be sensible. I know this is going to be quite an unpleasant experience for you, but the law is the law when all is said and done." Lucy stared at him, her eyes wide.

"This is how we are going to do things," the sergeant continued. " I want you to stand on this small stool, nice and quiet, and put your arms over the shoulders of Constable Biggs here." He pointed at the male constable. "Constable Sims," he indicated the policewoman," will make the required adjustments to your clothing. I shall ask Constable Biggs to hold you steady while I deliver the lawful punishment. Any questions?"

"No." Lucy was hoping that her voice didn't let her down.

"Very well, step onto the stool, if you please."

Feeling as if she was being led to the scaffold, Lucy allowed the policewoman to guide her to the stool. The grip on her arm as she stepped up gave no hint of sympathy. Constable Biggs stood in front of her, his back to her. She had been curious as to his role in the proceedings, but just as Constable Sims repeated the sergeant's instruction to put her hands over the policeman's head, Lucy realised what was going to happen.

Raised up on the stool, she stood with her shoulders a little higher than those of the constable. As soon as she put her hands, still manacled together, over the policeman's head, he took hold of her arms and pulled them tightly down across his chest, drawing Lucy closer to him.

Constable Sims took hold of the hem of Lucy's skirt, hoisting it high. Lucy felt a pressure on her back for a moment and guessed, when she saw the policewoman replace a reel of masking tape on the desktop, that her skirt had been taped to her upper body, exposing her rear from the waist down.

"OK, George, hoist her up." Constable Sims spoke for the first time since leaving the court room.

Constable Biggs bent at the waist, leaning forward and taking Lucy with him. Lucy let out a little yelp of surprise as her feet were lifted clear of the stool. She was completely off-balance, her full weight borne by the burly officer. The curve of his back pushed her bottom outwards; her legs kicked helplessly several inches off the stool. Lucy felt the policewoman's hands on her hips and soon her panties began their familiar journey, down over her hips, across her thighs, past her knees and then right off over her ankles.

However familiar the experience was becoming since she had been at Carstairs, Lucy still hated the idea of her bottom being completely bared before a group of complete strangers, and particularly men. The humiliation of it still made her feel worse than the knowledge of the punishment to follow and she could feel her face flaming red with the shame of it.

The sergeant had been waiting whilst Lucy was positioned, standing close to the wall rack. With an air of resignation, he selected the cane from the lower of the two shelves and changed places with Constable Sims. Lucy looked over her shoulder and took in the fact that the sergeant had also slipped off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. His exposed forearms were thick and muscular, covered in a mass of dark hairs. The cane arched into a perfect curve, flexed menacingly between the sergeant's two large hands.

"Face the front, miss, if you please." His voice was firm but not unkind. Reluctantly Lucy turned and looked at Constable Sims, trying not to think of the burly sergeant behind her who was no doubt studying the vulnerable curves of her naked bottom. It crossed her mind that to receive a spanking from such massive, leathery hands would be a memorable event. How much worse was it going to be to take a caning from him? Lucy clenched her buttocks involuntarily at the prospect of her impending ordeal.
That was a juicy read, and the spanking hasn't even begun! You'll have to wait until next week for that, I'm afraid.

To re-read the entire story, go to this post - From the Top Shelf - scroll down to A Degree of Discipline, and you will see all the posts from the story, in order.

From Hermione's Heart


Baxter said...

Boy oh boy, her bottom is going to be dealt with at the police station and definitely back at campus. no sitting down real soon. how will she complete her report?


Cat said...

Oh good gravy...twelve with a cane? And that's not even taking into account what Sebastian already has planned for her! Wonder what he's gonna add for this stunt! I'll be surprised if she can sit down for a week. Wonder if she will think twice before trying to manipulate a situation and/or lie anymore?!?!

Hugs and blessings...Cat

ronnie said...

I wouldn't like that position for 12 strokes of the cane. Looking forward to what happens when she's collected and taken back to Carstairs.


Roz said...

Wow, interesting position. I wouldn't like it either. Ouch! Lucy is going to be very sore between the caning and whatever she is dealt back at Carstairs!


Hermione said...

I can't imagine 12 cane strokes either. I hope this thesis is worth it!


Lindy Thomas said...

Gosh 12 strokes with the cane and then further when she returns to Carstairs. She will certainly be sore a quite a while.
Lindy x

Enzo said...

Thanks for the ongoing story Hermione! Just catching up.
I am guessing Lucy might end up regretting what she asked for.