Community Service Ch. 07

Such caring!

All at once, Tina looked furious with me, grateful to me, admiring of me - and loving.

Ms Harmman now instructed, crisply, "CSOs Karen and Linda. Now install Community servant David double-oh-seven into the centre stocks. Bare his bottom: pull down his community servant's shorts, to duly receive eighteen strokes of the cane."

"Ma'am!" said CSOs Karen and Linda.

As CSOs Karen and Linda secured first my head, and then my arms into the centre set of stocks, and then unceremoniously pulled down my community servant's white, elasticated waist shorts, the eager excitement of the gathered crowd was tangible. I could almost feel the spark, crackle and fizz of electricity in the air, such was the charged atmosphere.

The local and regional radio and TV journos, too, were affected. All a jabber, they were making sure that they were still broadcasting this historic event: that their microphones were turned on, and that their TV cameras were rolling.

The local Authoritarian Female Party official now turned her attention to, and formally addressed, my neighbour from hell Norma Newlove.

"Mrs Norma Newlove. Is it your wish, as the constitution of the law so provides, to personally administer all, or some, of the eighteen-stroke caning punishment that Community servant David double-oh-seven has petitioned to assume upon himself, in your assailant Miss Tina Marshall's stead?"

"Yes, Ms Harmman!" replied the ecstatic, gleeful Norma. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Norma still couldn't believe it - this was beyond her wildest dreams.

It was time to celebrate!

Norma, after all, hadn't received her lifetime's worth of birthday gifts and Christmas presents in advance - because I was the gift that kept on giving.

Standing in front of me with her Sock Room cronies Gina Stainham and Cheryl Chubb, jubilantly and tauntingly Norma sashayed her bottom at me, in an unseemly display of unbridled triumphalism.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! I most certainly do, Ms Harmman!" exulted Norma, still doing her victory dance.

Mrs Newlove was triumphant. Ecstatic. She was over the moon; dancing in the street - she was just all hop, skippity boo.

Ms Harmman said, "Very well, Mrs Newlove. And how, then, do you wish to proceed?"

"Ms Harmman. Of the eighteen cane strokes, I would first like my two friends, Gina and Cheryl, to administer to Community servant David double-oh-seven's bared bottom, between them, a Standard-Six style caning."

Gina Stainham and Cheryl Chubb, right in front of me, clasped hands and did a joyful little jig of their own - Norma hadn't forgotten her loyal friends!

"As you wish, Mrs Newlove," said the Authoritarian Female Party's representative for Canford town. "That is quite in order. And, the remaining twelve cane strokes?"

"Ms Harmman," said Norma Newlove, with unspeakable relish. "The remaining twelve cane strokes, I shall administer personally. A sort of double, Standard Six."

"Very well, Mrs Newlove. Consider your chosen caning punishment format, thus arranged. CSOs Karen and Linda will facilitate you and Mrs Gina Stainham and Mrs Cheryl Chubb with the use of their canes."

During her formal exchange with Norma Newlove, I'd noticed that Ms Harmman, who was so accustomed to sitting comfortably behind her Community Service Liaison Office desk, appeared to be getting a bit footsore, from all of this standing around ... Or was she?

Switching from foot to foot, Canford's Authoritarian Female Party representative would gratefully slip her rather long and slender, dark-nylon stockinged foot from her well-worn two-inch heeled, black leather office shoes. And when Ms Harmman pressed her toes down inside the back of the shoe's heel, thereby causing her shoe to stand on end, I was close enough to discern the profusion of scratches, scuffs and scars on the leather sole of her office pump.

The already all of a jabber, excitable voices of the live-at-the-scene local radio and TV journalists, and some further afield regional radio and TV commentators, too, were growing increasingly excited and melodramatic in their commentaries as they reported the very latest from Canford to their listeners and viewers.

The assembled media scrum knew they were all onto a sure-fire winner with this one.

Although what would have been the historic first public caning of a female under AFP rule had been narrowly averted, still, they were now onto something almost just as good ... And history was still being made - by me.

In these new Femocratic times, since Caroline Flynt and her Authoritarian Female Party had won the last General Election on their female-friendly mandate and assumed the mantle of government, the permitted and indeed encouraged TV coverage of the public chastisement of offenders made for very popular TV news programme sign-off pieces: 'And, finally ...'

And this, 'And, finally ...' sign-off piece would be especially viewer-engaging, with its 'love-angle' aspect.

A black-garbed man with black, curly hair suddenly stood in front of me, the lens of his shoulder-mounted camera pointing right at my face.

Hell! I thought, as the full, terrible reality of what I was doing came slamming home to me. What was Mum going to think? What was Dad going to say?

But I wouldn't have changed a thing.

And then appeared a blonde and blue-eyed female TV journalist, whose very attractive, very familiar peaches-and-cream complexioned face on my TV screen I instantly recognised: she was the delightful and delectable Kathy Newton.

Standing right in front of me, she was even more stunningly beautiful in the flesh.

Although mostly she presented the news from the TV studio, Kathy was a frequent outside-broadcaster of South London news events and issues, and of other, regional and national stories too.

Only last week, at home (my parents' house), with all of the Smith family gathered together under the same roof to enjoy one of Mum's exceedingly tasty spaghetti Bolognese dinners, I'd enjoyed watching Kathy Newton interviewing the Authoritarian Female Party's Home Secretary, Theresa Maynard.

But now, I listened with growing, mortified horror, as the lovely Kathy Newton spoke excitedly and melodramatically to the TV camera lens ... about me.

"Ladies and gentlemen SLTV viewers ... history is in the making, in Canford."

"Please, Miss Newton," said Ms Harmman politely. Politely; but there was an edge to her voice.

"There has been a reprieve, in the most remarkable and incredibly dramatic turn of events ... In an eleventh-hour interruption of female offender Miss Tina Marshall's Standard Six caning punishment proceedings, Miss Marshall's boyfriend, Community servant David double-oh-seven, has made an emotional last-minute appeal to the presiding local AFP representative, Ms Harriet Harmman, to allow him to assume upon himself the judicial sentence of a female."

Ms Harriet Harmman then said, irritably, "Please stand aside, Miss Newton."

But Kathy Newton did not stand aside.

She was an investigative and breaking news journalist working for a TV channel who were notorious for pushing the envelope.

The channel's investigative, chasing up and chasing down reporters were of a breed of hardened, cynical, pushy, no-pushover journos. Their flagship, evening-news programme, went on air at 7 o'clock.

Filling in SLTV's viewers on the latest, unfolding events from Canford, the bubbly, neck-length, wavy-blonde-haired TV studio presenter/outside-broadcast reporter went on - unabashed, unperturbed, unrestrained, and unapologetic.

"You just could not, make it up!" marvelled Kathy Newton, excitedly and melodramatically, and beaming her sensationalist 'Wait-till-you-hear-this!' smile.

"Unlikely hero-of-the-hour, Community servant David double-oh-seven, in so dramatically rescuing in such a brave and selfless act, the love of his life - Burger Heaven Team-Leader counter assistant, Miss Tina Marshall - from a Standard Six, public caning punishment proceeding, has in fact done so, to his own, great detriment.

"For in doing so, Community servant David double-oh-seven - who is none other than Canford town's Sock Room community servant - is actually volunteering to sacrifice what remains of his honour, his pride, and his self-esteem, by offering himself, in his girlfriend's stead, to the mercy of - according to our reliable sources - the very woman who is the bane of his life: Mrs Norma Newlove, a Sock Room frequenting, mid-twenties, unmarried mother of four."

Losing patience, Ms Harriet Harmman adjured, "Miss Newton! Please!"

"Community servant David double-oh-seven," Kathy Newton went on regardless, seemingly immune to Ms Harmman's unignorable 'best-behaviour' vibe, "is an eighteen-year-old, recent school-leaver.

"An unemployed Benefits claimant, he has been assigned by local Authoritarian Female Party representative, Ms Harriet Harmman, to Canford town's Sock Room, to earn his weekly welfare handouts by hand-washing and laundering to a high standard the females of Canford's dirty socks.

"And who will now face, publicly, in the stocks, in Canford town's High Street, eighteen strokes of the cane to his bared bottom. Twelve of the-"

"Miss Newton!" said Ms Harriet Harmman sharply.

"Twelve of the eighteen cane strokes, Mrs Norma Newlove has elected to administer, herself. After, that is, her two selected co-caners: her Sock Room friends Mrs Gina Stainham and Mrs Cheryl Chubb, have first administered between them, the first six cane strokes.

"It is Mrs Newlove's lawful constitutional prerogative, under the AFP's new female-friendly-"

"Miss Newton!" snapped Ms Harriet Harmman angrily. She'd now had more than enough of Kathy Newton's envelope-pushing ways.

"Ms Harmman," said Kathy Newton curtly, now recognising the very obvious fact.

And at last, the gorgeous intrepid SLTV studio journalist/roving reporter Kathy Newton removed herself and her attendant cameraman from in front of the centre stocks.

Ms Harriet Harmman now said: "Mrs Gina Stainham and Mrs Cheryl Chubb. Position yourselves, behind the centre set of stocks. Prepare to administer three strokes of the cane each, to Community servant David double-oh-seven's bared bottom. Ladies ... At your leisure."

CSOs Karen and Linda now duly handed over their AFP-issue whippy bamboo canes to Gina Stainham and Cheryl Chubb.

With malicious glee, Gina and Cheryl, milking the moment to the full - milking their history-making, radio-and-TV-covered, fifteen-minutes-of-fame - stepped up to me, and in a faux friendly manner they patted my cheeks with their fingers.

And so it began: If not the most painful, then certainly the most traumatic, and the most humiliating day of my life to date.

Listening, to them! What a torment!

Listening, to Gina Stainham and Cheryl Chubb's whoops of malicious glee, upon inflicting (at their "leisure") upon my bared bottom, each of their allocated three strokes of the cane: Gina Stainham thrashed my left, bared buttock, while Cheryl Chubb, whipped my fully exposed right, butt cheek.

Norma Newlove whooped along, with her cane-wielding Sock Room cronies. As did most of the spectating females in the gathered crowd.

The agonising pain! The unspeakable humiliation!

And, all of it, reported not just on local, but also on some of the further afield, regional and even national radio and TV channels.

How could I ever look Gina Stainham and Cheryl Chubb in the eye in the Sock Room again? After this!

But much worse, infinitely worse, I knew, was yet to come ...

CSO Karen then facilitated my neighbour from hell Norma Newlove with the use of her AFP-issue flexible bamboo cane.

Smiling, CSO Karen said, "I'd like it back in one piece, please, Mrs Newlove."

Not smiling, Norma Newlove replied, "Oh, I can't promise that, CSO Karen!"

Ms Harriet Harmman now said: "Mrs Norma Newlove. Position yourself behind the centre set of stocks. Prepare to administer twelve strokes of the cane, to Community servant David double-oh-seven's bared bottom. Mrs Newlove ..."

On her way to position herself behind my bared bottom, Norma walked right up to me. With her hand, she uptilted my chin, so that she could look right into my eyes.

Norma didn't say anything. Not a word.

But she didn't need to: The look, on Norma's face, said everything. And the expression in her eyes, said more than words can articulate.

Ms Harriet Harmman prompted, "Mrs Newlove ... At your leisure."

And so it continued: If not the most agonising, then certainly the most anguishing, and the most devastating day of my life to date.

And all of it, reported live, on a staggering array of local, regional, national, and even international radio and TV channels ... including SLTV.

"You must be hurting terribly already, Community servant David double-oh-seven, aren't you?" said the blonde, blue-eyed, envelope-pushing journo Kathy Newton, her attendant TV cameraman, taking his zoom-in close-ups, at Kathy's direction.

"And you've still got Mrs Newlove to come! She's going to let you have it, isn't she, Community servant David? Why has Mrs Newlove got it in for you, David? Whatever have you done to her? Would you like to tell SLTV viewers, why she's-"

"Miss Newton! Please!" admonished Ms Harriet Harmman. "I must insist!"

As Norma's Sock Room cronies Gina and Cheryl were both taking maximum advantage and making optimum use of their three-cane-stroke allocation upon my fully exposed buttocks, it was with reluctant admiration, being the subject of her compelling reportage, that I'd listened to the consummate professional so familiar on my TV screen, Kathy Newton.

Clinically detached from the sights and sounds of my suffering, and totally absorbed, in the perfectionist's execution of purpose, Kathy Newton gave expert direction to capture, for the delectation of SLTV viewers, every agonised expression that the cane-wielding Gina Stainham and Cheryl Chubb had caused to pass across my contorted, pain-wracked face.

I then felt my neighbour from hell Norma Newlove playing CSO Karen's AFP-issue cane over the six raised welts on my bared bottom: the six, painful injuries, resultant of Norma's Sock Room cronies Gina Stainham and Cheryl Chubb's "Standard-Six style" equal partnership.

I understood perfectly, what Norma Newlove was silently telling me: Norma was maliciously letting me know, that she was going to target each of those self-same, already sore and tender spots ... deliberately. And repeatedly.

Gina Stainham and Cheryl Chubb had laid the foundations. And now, Norma Newlove was going to build me a 'twelve-storey' tower of pain.

Perhaps Norma Newlove wasn't possessed of the clinical polish and finesse, of which CSOs such as my two young Sock Room supervisors, through a combination of regular training and frequent practice, were so accomplished.

But, where Norma may have been deficient in expertise and elegance, I was quite confident that she would more than compensate for any such handicaps and shortcomings, with her hateful, spiteful, and cruel administering, of CSO Karen's AFP-issue flexible bamboo cane.

Norma was going to-

Whoo! - Crack!

White-hot, searing pain detonated across the centre of my right, bared buttock.

The pain was mind-numbing. But, gritting my teeth, I stifled a strangled yelp.

Norma Newlove had, I knew, accurately overlaid one of her Sock Room crony Gina Stainham's own, three hits.

With my head secured in the stocks, my movements were restrained and restricted. But when my head automatically snapped up, upon feeling the first of Norma Newlove's twelve allotted cane strokes to my bared bottom, it was to see, once again, Ms Harmman slipping one of her rather long and narrow, dark-nylon stockinged feet from its well-worn, two-inch heeled, black leather office pump. And, pressing her toes down inside the shoe's heel, she was causing her shoe to stand on end.

Ms Harmman's seemingly deliberate switching from foot to foot, displaying to me the scuffed, scratched and scarred leather soles of her office pumps, while she duly presided over my humiliating, public bare-bottom caning, felt like an added insult.

And Kathy Newton wasn't helping matters, either.

When SLTV's news programme went on-air at 7 pm, the channel's viewers were going to love the bubbly and vivacious Kathy's excited and melodramatic, live-at-the-scene running commentary.

How could Kathy Newton be so unfeeling? I wondered. How could she be so detached and clinical, in the face of my terrible suffering? How could she be so unsympathetic, of my unspeakable public humiliation?

How could Kathy, a TV journalist who I'd always so liked, and admired, and respected - even had a bit of a crush for, if I'm honest - be so-

Whoo! - Crack!

Unbelievable pain flashed across the centre of my left, bared buttock.

The pain was mind-shattering. But, biting my tongue, I smothered an agonised cry.

Norma Newlove had, I knew, precisely overlaid one of her Sock Room crony Cheryl Chubb's own, three hits.

Automatically, my head snapped up again. And Ms Harmman, choosing this moment to switch over to her other foot, seemingly deliberately showed to me the scratched, scuffed and scarred leather sole of her other, well-worn black leather office pump.

And Kathy Newton, with her clever turns of phrase, and her witty and amusing asides - and her chuckling, laughing, and giggling - was only exacerbating my misery.

It was so very different, when someone else, was the butt of Kathy's cruel jokes. When someone else, was the pansy, for her acerbic wit. When someone else, was her hapless fall-guy.

Even Ms Harmman was smiling.

After this, I didn't think I would view Kathy Newton in the same light again.

I would make Emily Makepeace, my new TV news darling.

Emily, already a long-time firm favourite - and a bit of a heartthrob, too, if I'm honest - certainly wasn't all beauty and no brains. She was one tough cookie of an interviewer, and she was certainly-

Whoo! - Crack!

Unimaginable, intolerable pain sliced across the undermost part of my right, bared buttock, just where it meets the top of the thigh.

This time, the pain was overwhelming, and I couldn't prevent the escape of an agonised moan of anguish.

My neighbour from hell Norma Newlove had, I knew, exactly overlaid another of her Sock Room crony Gina Stainham's own, three hits.

"He felt that one, Norma!" yelled Cheryl Chubb gleefully.

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Gina Stainham. "Now you've got the little squirt right where you want him, Norma!"

Norma Newlove, as I was now finding out, was a lot handier with the cane than I'd imagined she might be.

But then, where Norma might lack the proficiency and finesse of my two young, well-trained and well-practiced Sock Room supervisors, CSOs Karen and Linda, Norma did, more than compensate for any such handicaps and shortcomings, with her hateful, spiteful, and cruel administering, of CSO Karen's AFP-issue flexible bamboo cane.

And it was only three down, with another nine of Norma's "double, Standard Six" bare-bottom cane-stroke allocation, still to be duly administered ...

*

Finally, it was over.

The public caning punishment awarded to a female, that, as a male citizen subject to Prime Minister Caroline Flynt's Authoritarian Female Party's female-friendly constitutional laws, I was allowed to volunteer to assume upon myself - was finally over.

Immediately upon my neighbour from hell Norma Newlove savagely administering the last of her twelve cane-stroke allocation to my bared bottom, perfectly overlaying for a second time another of her Sock Room crony Cheryl Chubb's own, three hits, Tina - the heaven, of Burger Heaven - ran straight up to me. And, crying herself, she showered my pain-wracked, tear-streaked, stock-secured face with her relieved, grateful, proud, and loving kisses.