The only safe thing to say

You really just want to get home at this point but even in your old world it is generally a good idea to comply with police requests, even fairly minor ones such as this. You have a feeling you will end up coming as a witness whatever your response; the only difference would be being even more sore than you are already. “Of course!” Your response is perhaps even a bit too enthusiastic but the matter is settled.

During the short commute in the back of the police vehicle you have time to send Diana a quick text and the handsome officer has time to record the event summary in his electronic pad before the van stops and he leads the offender off it motioning you to follow. While you are annoyed to have your plans disturbed yet again you are also curious to see the police station in your new world. Surely the changes you brought about must have affected law enforcement, for a certain age and gender group especially.

The parking space is just around the corner from the station entrance and even before you turn around it, hurrying naked and sore after the two men, you can tell from a whistle and a crack of a cane or something cane-like and a yell that to call what happened just a change would be an understatement. A moment later the station itself comes into your view. The previously square building is now bracket-shaped with the space half-encircled by it looking like it would do any medieval town square proud. There are stocks, whipping posts, wooden horses, suspension devices , St Andrews crosses... all obviously serving one purpose. Each has a number plaque. The large sign above identifies the area as MAJOR CORRECTIONS with arrows to MINOR CORRECTIONS and PUBLIC RECEPTION pointing to the main entrance. As you walk past the area for public punishments details start to emerge that rather ruin the medieval impression you had originally. Each bondage device is fitted with a water bottle holder and even a container with recyclable straws. Most also have large (now folded) canopies. The miscreants are intended to only suffer from the punishment itself (and the public humiliation, you suppose) but not from dehydration or the elements.

A stand marked with a large red cross occupied by a nurse-looking lady in a white gown with a CPE2 armband further solidifies the modern approach to discipline and so does a row of showers and toilets on the edge of the punishment area but still very much in the open. They are not as modern as the showers you have used just a short while ago clearly having been installed significantly earlier but they are still obviously clean and perfectly functional. You wonder how long can a sentence in bondage last and whether using the toilet once would be enough especially with the kind water supply. Still, wetting yourself beats dying of thirst as far as you are concerned.

Most of the devices are now empty and the audience is not in great numbers either. One of the wooden horses holds a black woman seemingly around your age; she is the one you heard yelling earlier and hear again now, as a uniformed female officer brings her cane across her buttocks. The punishment must have just started because the line the stroke leaves is only the third. Interestingly the woman is not completely nude, her upper body covered by a white shirt. The other three ladies present are not so lucky. Two of them are in stocks facing away from you (although the stocks are positioned so that those at the far edge would see their faces perfectly clearly but not their behinds); their bottoms and backs of thighs are covered with dozens of angry welts. You can catch a glimpse of long hair of the same shade of red on them both, perhaps they are sisters. The fourth and final person is most exposed of all, facing forward on a St Andrews cross. You cannot tell what state her bottom is in but her breasts bear marks from only two lashes that you can tell. What surprises you most is that the lady (you would guess she is Indian but you are not completely sure) has to be past the spanking age. The Rulebook kicks in again the moment you have this thought to tell you older ladies may still choose corporal punishment over other penalties although they may no long let be **** to accept it.

You wonder as you walk by if there is a way to find out what have they done to be here and you can feel almost a physical nudge to lift your chin. Somehow you missed a huge screen not unlike those you would expect to see in a train station. The spirit of the Rulebook must be shaking its head (if it has one) at your observational skills right now. The list of numbers corresponds to those you noticed earlier on the devices; most of the entries read predictably enough “Not in use”. Two, however, are marked as “Under maintenance” and four have names and offences next to them. The redheads are indeed sisters or maybe cousins (or else the coincidentally share the family name of Cunningham-Lee) and have been found guilty of shoplifting for the third time; they are both 19. The women on the horse (Smith, aged 24) and the cross (Sood, 51) are guilty of causing minor bodily harm and speeding respectively. You take it for a mixed sign that ladies no longer eligible for spankings take it as an option but all in all it seems justice is being dealt swiftly and effectively.

You follow the men in and the officer asks the young policeman at the reception to give you a copy of the form you are to fill while he places the businessman into a holding cell. He is in even more trouble apparently than you initially thought, not that you feel it is a bad thing. It is even stranger to be nude in a police station than just outside but you manage to hold yourself together while the young man is hunting for the correct the form (he seems very new at this) and pre-filling the case information. You are distracted by a trio of officers who walk into the public area ready to take their shifts. Two of them are women one of whom joins the policeman getting your paperwork, giving him a friendly smile and telling him he can go off once he’s done with the form. She is not wearing a CPE band at all, apparently even police **** members do not get them if the current job is a desk one. The remaining two are getting ready to go out on patrol and it is the female’s clothing that really catches your eye. Unlike her colleague she is wearing a band (in the second category) but exemption from only some forms of punishment apparently was not enough to save her behind. Her uniform is quite standard above the waist; her trousers however are made of some obviously durable but completely transparent material and under them she is wearing nothing. You can see her neatly trimmed pussy and as the pair walks past you also her bright red behind. It is nice the society is thoughtful enough to provide a uniform variation that would permit nudity punishment while remaining practical and allowing the woman in question to continue her work but you cannot imagine the humiliation of confronting potential law-breakers with your pussy perfectly exposed to them.

The officer finally hands you the form and tells you you can complete it by the counter; grateful not to have to sit down you accept the offered pen and write down your contact information followed by the description of the incident. You point out truthfully that the spanker made no indication of intending to resume hand spanking as he claimed to the officer and that there was at least one instance of touching the spankee with no punishment-related purpose that you could see. You do not need to use the extra sheets provided and finish by signing the declaration on the form and returning it to the newly arrived lady (the young officer is mostly under the table trying to find something he dropped while attempting to pack his bag). Upon glancing through your statement the lady tells you all is in order but you may be contacted again to which you have no objection. She thanks you for your time and says you are free to go; you thank her back and turn around to do just that.