More prison spanking, this time from the comfortable realm of fiction, down on The Prison Farm:
“This is what we use for discipline.” Sam, the warden, spoke, as she jumped down from her desk, and walked up and down the line, with a long wooden paddle in her hand. “This is what you can expect if you step out of line.”
“Turn around, Margie, bend over and grab your ankles,” Sam said, tapping the paddle on the palm of her own hand.
Marge looked at her with pleading eyes, then turned and assumed the lewd position. She had to spread her legs in order to grab her ankles, and knew her privates were well exposed from behind.
“This is just an example,” Sam again directed the group. “Now, Margie, you are going to get five swats. I want you to count aloud so we all can hear. If you release the hold on your ankles, we will start over. Is that clear?” Sam asked, while tapping the paddle on the bare bottom.
“Yes. I understand,” Marge answered, breathing heavily. Sam took a few steps back.
“Oh, Margie! We can see EVERYTHING from back here!” Sam chided.
“You know, conjugal visits are not allowed. You sure you can go 18 months without a cock?” Sam mused. “Your pussy looks hungry already!”
The words cut through Marge like a razor. She screwed her eyes shut, knowing of how open she was to all the eyes in the room.
“Hold tight now. You are about to get your first of many prison spankings!” Sam spat, her lips curling in cruelty.
Sam stood back and adjusted her range, then raised the paddle high. With a splat that echoed against the hard painted walls, the paddle cracked into the bare bottom.
“OHHHHHHNE!” Marge gasped, as the horrible sting registered. Jesus! it hurt. She could almost feel it ringing like the echo. Sam smiled.
SPLAT! again in the same place, across both cheeks at the very center. “TWOOOOOOOoooo!” Marge managed to stammer out, as the itchy sting made her knuckles white as she tightly held her ankles.
Sam walked up and down the line of women, watching the looks of terrified horror on their faces. She turned again to Marge. SPLAT! lower down at the tender under curve.
“AAAIIIEEE! THREEEEE!” Marge rhymed and lunged forward some what.
Sam tapped Marge on the ass with her bare hand, kneading one cheek at the center.
“The next one’s going right here,” she pinched the place on the right cheek.
Marge cringed with anticipation. She felt like she was going to throw up.
SPLAT! The paddle hit the mark with deadly accuracy and force. Being so concentrated, the sting felt much worse.
“And the next, right here,” as Sam pinched the left cheek.
SPLAT! Again, the paddle hit its mark and sent a searing message to her brain.
“Margie, you just stay like that now,” Sam tapped her bottom again, “And the rest of you get undressed!”