“Miss! Miss! Could we have more coffee, please?”
Sally Benton looked round and saw a grey-haired man holding out his cup. She retraced her steps and replenished his cup from a glass jug of coffee on the trolley she was pushing along the aisle.
“Cream and sugar, sir?”
“Cream, no sugar. Thanks.”
With her left hand, Sally took the white china cream jug from her trolley and poured gently into the man’s cup, her steady hand causing the cream to float on the surface of the coffee.
“How long until we land, miss?”
Before Sally could answer, the intercom crackled into life and a voice filled the cabin. “This is your captain speaking. Due to a tropical rainstorm at Bulonga, we are having to divert to the airport at Masawe, around one hundred miles to the north. Hotel accommodation has been arranged until the weather clears and we can fly on to Bulonga. Touch-down should be in around twenty minutes. We apologise for any inconvenience this may cause.”
“Damnation!” The grey-haired man responded, and Sally gave him a sympathetic smile before continuing along the aisle with her trolley.
“What’s Masawe like, Jill?” Sally addressed a colleague wearing a similar pale blue uniform skirt and jacket, but with an extra stripe on her epaulets to signify she was the senior steward.
“No idea, Sally. I've heard of the place. It's right out in the sticks, probably a tiny little place with a few tin shacks for airport buildings.”
“Oh, great!”
“Look on the bright side, Sally. There’s at least half a chance the customs officials, if there is more than one, might not even be on duty. Shouldn’t be too hard to get some decent free alcohol and plenty of cigarettes past them.”
The ‘Landing’ lights came on and Jill Hargrove left the galley area and strapped herself into her seat. Sally quickly secured the galley and followed her colleague.
The aircraft’s landing was a little bumpier than usual but soon Sally and her fellow crew members were standing at the door ushering the passengers off. Five minutes later, the eight of them, led by the captain, John Westland, made their own way through the airport’s terminal, a concrete single storey building that looked like it hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in some years. Well used to passing through customs with little formality, Sally was surprised when the one man sitting at the customs desk called out to her.
“One moment, missy. Show me your bags.”
With a brief anxious glance towards Jill and the captain, John Westland, Sally lifted her flight bag and single suitcase onto the desk.
“Anything to declare, missy?” The small man wearing an extremely dirty customs uniform looked lazily up at the tall blonde air hostess.
“Oh, er, no. No, nothing.”
Her answer brought a large grin to the customs man’s face and he stood up to start searching through her bags. With the other crew members looking on, Sally blushed when several pairs of her knickers were held up to everyone’s gaze. It was the blue and white polka dot pair that caused Sally most concern, though, because when they were held up a small cellophane bag of a weed-like substance fell onto the desk.
“What’s this?” The customs man held the bag aloft.
“Herbal medicine?” Sally answered unconvincingly.
The man opened the little package carefully and took a sniff.
“Ganja!” He exclaimed, eyes wide open.
“For my own use, yes,” Sally admitted, feeling there was little point in pretending the sweet smelling odour could be anything else.
“Naughty, missy. Ganja not allowed.” The customs man beckoned to a man standing at the back of the room wearing a grubby grey suit.
Seeing the difficulty Sally was in, John Westland sent the other crew members on their way to their hotel. Jill Hargrove, the senior air hostess, chose to stay behind too.
“We go to the office.” The man wearing the grubby suit stated, and grabbed Sally by the arm. “Bring the luggage,” he ordered the uniformed customs man.
“I’m Westland, the flight’s captain. This is Miss Hargrove, senior air hostess. May we come too?”
The senior customs official wiped a hand over his small sweaty bald head. “Okay.”
In the office, a small room with a desk, four chairs and a side table, a further search was made of Sally’s two bags. Eight small bottles of various strong alcoholic drinks and ten packets of cigarettes were revealed, but no further cannabis or indeed any other illicit drug. The offending eight bottles, the cigarettes and the bag of cannabis were placed on the desk in front of Sally and her two companions.
“You smuggle ganja. You avoid paying duty on eight bottles of alcohol and ten packets of cigarettes,” the senior customs man stated. “You very naughty girl. You go to prison for a very long time.”
“Now hold on,” John Westland intervened. “Those are very small bottles of alcohol, and that is quite a small quantity of cannabis. They are obviously all for her own use, as are the cigarettes. That must carry some sway, surely.”
“Still very illegal. Still very bad girl.”
The small bald-headed man looked at Sally. “You pay for this alcohol? These cigarettes? You show me receipt?”
“They’re free on the ‘plane. No, I didn’t pay,” Sally confessed.
“She have permission to take bottles?” The man looked at John Westland. "The cigarettes too?"
The captain removed his cap and held it over the lower part of his face while he thought. Eventually he had to concede, “No, I think probably no permission was given.”
“She steal?”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it like that. But it’s a minor disciplinary matter that we can handle perfectly adequately within the company.”
“She lose her job?”
“I wouldn’t think so, no.”
“No punishment?”
“Probably a reprimand, and she'll have to pay for the alcohol and cigarettes.”
“Huh!” The bald-headed senior customs official was clearly not impressed. “Maybe you treat your girls with more discipline, they won’t bother us with their smuggling drugs and alcohol and so forth. Yes?”
Captain Westland glanced at Sally, the expression on his face demonstrating his annoyance. The only answer he gave the customs man was a shrug of his shoulder.
“Okay.” The senior customs man clasped his hands together and addressed Sally. “We take you to prison. Maybe we can get a court date in a couple of months or so. Then we deal with you.”
“Oh god.” Sally felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
“Hold on.” Captain Westland sighed. “We need a full complement of crew, otherwise we won’t be able to take off when the weather clears. It could be a week before we can fly out a replacement for this young lady. Is there nothing we can do?”
The senior customs official eyed the aircraft’s captain suspiciously. “Are you offering me a bribe?”
“No, not at all,” John Westland replied, hoping this was the answer the man wanted. “Look, this is such a minor matter. It’s not like Sally tried to smuggle a large quantity of heroin or anything like that. Can’t this be dealt with more quickly?”
The two officials entered into a rapid conversation in a language none of the flight crew understood. When it ended, the senior official spoke to Captain Westland.
“Captain, I understand you need full crew for when the weather clears. Okay? We expect that to be in three, maybe four days’ time. I will see what I can do to speed things up. Meanwhile, your stewardess, this naughty one, will have to be arrested and taken to the police station.”
“Oh no!” Sally responded.
“Is that really necessary?” Captain Westland asked.
“For now, yes. However, I will do what I can and maybe young lady will be released to your custody. If so, you will need to keep her locked in her room in your hotel. Okay?”
“Yes, I suppose that would be acceptable. Do we really have to keep her locked in her room though? I’m sure you would have my and her guarantee not to try and flee the country.”
“We will see. For now, I need to call the police to come and take her to the police station to be properly charged.”
Captain Westland left the two stewardesses in the office while he went out into the main concourse to explain what was happening to the remaining crew. He then left them to arrange taxis to take them to their hotel. As he returned to the office, the senior customs official was finishing a telephone call.
“They will be here in fifteen minutes,” the official explained. “Meanwhile, I suggest you wait in the lounge. Coffee is available there. Do not leave this building.”
Captain Westland led the two women through the main concourse and into the small waiting lounge where a bored-looking waitress leaned on the counter. She reluctantly provided them with coffee, and they sat around one of around ten tables covered in plastic cloth that had seen better days.
“I’m so sorry, captain. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble,” Sally wailed.
Captain Westland coughed. “Yes, well, there’s not much we can do about that now. I just hope they agree to fine you or something that means we can take off when this damn weather clears.”
“I feel partly to blame, John,” Jill confessed. “I told Sally the customs at such a small airport would be pretty lax. I also had some cigarettes and alcohol in my bag. Thankfully, they only searched Sally’s luggage.”
“Really? Well, whatever you do, don’t own up to it. I don’t need two crew members getting locked up!”
“Am I going to prison, captain?” Sally queried.
“I’ve no idea, Sally. It’s what that senior guy suggested could happen, but maybe he was just trying to scare you.”
“He certainly succeeded.”
Minutes later, two police officers, a male and a female, entered the airport building and spoke to the senior customs man. After some discussion, they entered the waiting lounge. The three air crew looked up suddenly as the senior customs officer pointed at Sally.
“Stand up,” the female police officer demanded.
Sally stood and was immediately searched by the police woman running her hands all over Sally’s body.
“Hands behind your back.”
Sally dutifully put her hands behind her and felt the officer snapping on handcuffs.
“Is that really necessary?” Captain Westland protested. “Sally is not going to run off.”
“We don’t know her,” came the blunt reply from the female police officer.
Sally was then led out of the airport building and taken to a small pick-up truck that had a cell-like cage built onto the rear platform and she was locked inside. The police officers then got in the cab and the truck drove off.
“Let’s get a taxi into town and find out what’s happening with Sally,” Jill suggested.
The taxi arrived twenty minutes later, and took them along a bumpy road into the nearby town. The hotel was large, but had peeling paintwork and overgrown grounds. Several of the passengers, and the remaining flight crew, were sitting around the front gardens drinking.
Jill and Captain Westland registered and took their bags to their rooms, then went across the town square to another drab building which was the police station. Inside, they were greeted by the two officers that had been called to the airport, and Sally who was standing, her arms still secured behind her, facing one wall.
“You speak with inspector. Yes?” said the male officer.
“Yes, please,” replied Captain Westland.
He was shown into a back office, while Jill went across to Sally.
“Are you okay, Sally?”
“I feel a bit like a naughty schoolgirl who was caught talking in class,” Sally answered, keeping her eyes glued to the wall in front of her. “But yes, I’m okay really. Just worried about what’s going to happen to me.”
“Of course.” Jill turned to the female police officer. “Does she have to stand like this? Can’t she come and sit down?”
“Not until we decide what to do with her.”
“It’s okay, Jill. Really it is,” Sally added.
Jill responded by rubbing the younger crew member’s shoulder.
“Don’t touch the prisoner!” the female police officer barked.
Meanwhile, in the back office, the aircraft’s captain was sitting across the desk from the police inspector, a tall dark-haired man called Inspector Makuta. The inspector appeared sympathetic to the captain needing his full complement of crew in order to take off when the weather cleared, but also pointed out the seriousness of the charges that could be levelled against Sally. After some discussion, the inspector suggested a possible solution.
“Absolutely not!” was Captain Westland’s immediate reaction.
“At the minimum, two years in prison,” was Inspector Makuta’s response. “Maybe you should at least put it to the young lady?”
“And if we were to go along with your preposterous proposition, would Miss Benton still have a criminal record? Would she be allowed to enter this country again?”
“That’s another advantage, captain. No criminal record. Nothing to prevent her returning. You need to think about it, seriously.”
Captain Westland nodded as he considered the inspector’s words.
“Captain, why don’t I release the young lady into your custody. You may take her to the hotel, but she must remain inside unless I give permission for her to leave. Get some rest. Then, come and see me in the morning and let me know what you’ve decided. Okay?”
“And if we decide not to go ahead with your idea, what then?”
“Then the young lady will be brought back here and locked in a cell until we can get her in front of a judge.”
“How long would that take?”
“We should be able to arrange it in, let us say, two months?”
“Meaning I’d have to get a replacement crew member flown out.”
Inspector Makuta shrugged.
“Okay, release her into my custody, if you will, and I’ll speak with her.”
In just a few minutes, Sally had been released from the handcuffs and she, Jill and Captain Westland walked across to their hotel.
“What’s happening, captain?” Sally asked.
“Let’s get a drink in the bar, then I’ll explain what that inspector fellow is suggesting.”
Minutes later, the three sat around a coffee table in the hotel’s scruffy lounge taking sips from their alcoholic drinks.
“So, where do I stand, captain?” Sally asked again.
“You’re not going to like this, Sally.”
“Tell me.”
“The inspector is suggesting they treat your offences as minor transgressions, which apparently means they can avoid putting you in front of a judge in a courtroom and deal with you themselves. The inspector, so he says, then has the power to adjudicate your case himself and award appropriate punishment.”
“But that’s good, isn’t it?” Sally suggested when the captain paused to take a swig of his rather too warm beer. “Couldn’t he do his adjudication bit straight away? Then I wouldn’t get locked up, would I? And then I’ll be free to be part of the crew when we do get to fly out.”
“No, you wouldn’t be locked up. You wouldn’t have to go to prison and you wouldn’t have any kind of a criminal record, meaning you could return to this country if you ever get assigned to another plane coming here.”
“Doesn’t that solve a lot of problems then?” Sally’s sombre mood softened. “Perhaps we can we get the inspector to do his adjudication straight away. Will I have to plead my case to him like in court?”
“Possibly. I’m not sure, although I think he’s really decided what will happen to you.”
“Like my punishment, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Great. So, what sort of fine do I have to pay? Or is there something else?”
“Something else.”
“Not too embarrassing, I hope. Not like wearing an orange jumpsuit and going around picking up litter?”
“No, nothing like that. More painful than embarrassing, I’d say.”
“Painful?” Both Sally and Jill exclaimed together.
“In what way painful, John?” Jill asked.
“After some discussion, the inspector has agreed a whipping of eighteen strokes to be applied with a cane.”
“What, like a flogging?” Sally looked genuinely stunned.
“Surely not?” Jill added. “How?”
“According to the inspector, it’s something they do with young offenders and some others from time to time. It keeps them out of the regular courts and means they don’t go to prison or get a criminal record, all of which can make life difficult in a rural farming community. It’s not totally official, but well supported by the local population, apparently.”
Both women sat in stunned silence while the captain fetched a fresh round of drinks.
“Eighteen strokes sounds a lot, John,” Jill commented as she picked up her cocktail glass.
“It was going to be thirty-six,” the captain replied. “But I was able to get the number down to eighteen. He wouldn’t go lower though.”
“And how would it be carried out? Do you know?”
“The main thing is, it would be carried out inside the police station. Sometimes, apparently, these canings are carried out in the middle of the town square. So that’s one embarrassment avoided.” The captain paused to take a mouthful of his beer. “In Sally’s case, a female police officer would apply the eighteen strokes to Sally’s backside, her bare backside.”
“My backside?” Sally exclaimed.
No one spoke for some moments.
“This really is unacceptable, John,” Jill finally responded. “Can’t the company do something? Can’t we contact the British Consul?”
“We could do both those things. But, Sally goes to prison while she awaits her day in court. She then most likely gets several years in prison. Her employment would be terminated and she’d be very unlikely to get another job as aircrew. I think it’s something only Sally can decide.”
“I’m very conscious I got myself into this mess,” Sally admitted. “I’ve only got myself to blame. And my stupid actions might affect the whole crew. I think I have to accept this inspector’s suggestion.”
“Hold on,” Jill countered.
“It’s just the best thing for all of us,” Sally continued. “It means I can avoid being locked up, and I’d be available to be part of the crew when the weather clears and we can take off again. I don’t get any kind of a criminal record, and I get to keep my job. It’s the ideal solution.”
“Sally, eighteen lashes across your bum isn’t any kind of picnic. It would be extremely painful. You might not even be able to do your job properly if and when we get clearance for take-off.”
“But at least I’d be on board, Jill. That’s the main thing.”
“That’s a fair point, Jill,” Captain Westland acknowledged. “Sally would still count as a crew member, even if she just had light duties.
“I really have to do it, Jill,” Sally confirmed. “At least it’s going to be done by a female police officer. That’s what you said, isn’t it, captain?”
“Yes, that’s what Inspector Makuta told me. It would be done in private, inside the police station and by a female officer.”
“I still think you need to give this a lot of thought, Sally,” Jill cautioned.
“Yes, but I would still keep my job, would I, captain? The company wouldn’t still fire me, would they?”
“Discretion seems to be at the forefront of the inspector’s mind, and I don’t feel the need to mention anything to the company, so yes, you’d remain part of the crew. We just keep it all to ourselves.”
“Then that’s settled. I’m sure it’s going to be a horrible experience, but getting this caning solves so many problems. I’m sure being in prison in this place would not be at all pleasant, and maybe I deserve to get my bum smacked hard.”
“Oh Sally,” Jill argued. “Are you really sure about this? Why not take some time to think about it.”
“I really don’t need to, Jill. It’s a mess, and a mess I’ve got myself into. I committed a crime and I have to be punished. I want to take the thrashing. In fact, I think I’d still go through with it whatever, even if it was done in the town square. It would still be better than going to prison and most certainly losing my job.”
“Really?” Jill exclaimed.
“Really. So what happened now, captain? How do we arrange this?”
“I have to tell the inspector how you want to be dealt with, Sally, at 9.30 am tomorrow. Let’s all sleep on it. Let me know if you change your mind, Sally. Otherwise I’ll tell him you accept the caning.”
The following morning, at 9.20 am, Captain Westland walked across to the police station in his full uniform. Inside, he was greeted by Inspector Makuta and taken into his office.
“So, captain, have you been able to discuss with the young lady the various options open to us?”
“I have. Firstly, though, I want to clarify with you exactly what you were proposing yesterday. The suggestion was that she would receive eighteen strokes of the cane across her backside, which would be unclothed, and that it would be done by female officers. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” the inspector smiled smugly. “Yes, we settled on eighteen strokes to be applied with a cane, and certainly it would be our female officers carrying out the punishment. No males present; that would not be proper.”
“And where exactly would it be carried out?”
“Here, in the police station. We have a locker room which would provide enough space for good swings of the cane, and it can be locked from the inside so no one except the female officers and the young lady can enter.”
Captain Westland nodded thoughtfully, then came up with another question.
“Could Miss Benton have someone with her? I’m thinking our chief stewardess, Jill Hargrove.”
The inspector paused to consider. “Yes, I see no reason why that could not be allowed. She must not, of course, interfere. She must simply observe.”
“Then I think we have a deal, inspector.”
“Fine,” the inspector replied, looking quite pleased.
“So, what happens now?” Captain Westland asked.
“Shall we fix the time for the punishment at 2.00 pm today? That would give me time to get a second female officer here to assist the one we already have. May I suggest the young lady surrenders herself at that time? Otherwise, we would have to send officers to the hotel to fetch her and that might prove, how shall we say, extra embarrassing.”
“Two o’clock then. Agreed.”
The captain returned to the hotel and went straight to Sally Benton’s room. He knocked, and the door was opened by Jill Hargrove.
“What news, John?” Jill asked as she closed the door behind them.
Sally Benton, who was sitting on the edge of her bed looking worried, looked up. She was wearing pyjamas and a light-weight dressing gown.
“Okay, so I’ve confirmed the agreement we have with Inspector Makuta. Sally, you are to receive eighteen strokes with a cane, which will be administered by a female officer in the presence of a second female officer. It will be done in the police station, in a locker room that can be locked from the inside, so it will be totally in private. Jill, if you and Sally both agree, you can be with Sally.”
“I can do that,” Jill replied, looking at Sally.
“Yes, please. I know it’s going to be awful, and I’d understand if you didn’t want to do it, Jill, but I’d prefer it if you were there. Do we know when?”
“Yes. Two o’clock today. The inspector suggests you present yourself at the police station rather than him sending officers to the hotel to fetch you.”
“Yes, I wouldn’t want everyone seeing me being marched off in handcuffs.”
“Okay, well, I’ll leave you two ladies to it. I’ll be down in the lounge if you need me.”
After the captain had left the room, Sally said, “You know, I’ve never even been spanked before.”
“Me neither. Let’s think. Is there anything you need? How can I help you?”
“Just stay with me, please Jill.”
“Of course. Have you thought what you’re going to wear?”
“No. Why? It sounds like they’re going to strip me, or at least bare my bottom, so what does it matter?”
“I was thinking you might as well make it easy for them. You don’t want them tugging away at skirts and tights and so on, nor do you want to look conspicuous in your uniform when we go over to the police station.”
“I’ve got some baggy jogger trousers in my suitcase. They’re loose-fitting with a drawstring waist.”
“Probably a good choice. Maybe with something like a T-shirt?”
“I’ve got a rugby shirt. I guess that will do.”
“Sounds good. It’s not a fashion show, after all. And we could probably sneak out the back door of the hotel so no one sees us leave.”
The light salad lunch the two women ordered to be sent up to Sally’s room turned out to be some rather stale lettuce leaves, sliced tomato and tinned salmon. While Jill was pleased to have something to eat, Sally just picked at her meal.
“This waiting is terrible,” Sally announced, as she lay back on her bed.
“Yes,” Jill responded, desperate to say something to help Sally, but unable to think of anything.
Then, after a while of silence, she looked at the time.
“Hey, it’s almost one-thirty. Perhaps you should think about getting ready?”
“Is it? Oh god!”
Sally swung off her bed and removed her dressing gown. After a moment’s hesitation, she gave up any idea of modesty and stripped off her pyjama trousers and jacket. Now naked, she opened her suitcase and rummaged inside before pulling out white baggy jogger trousers and a green rugby shirt with a four-inch yellow horizontal stripe.
“Do you think, if I wear a thong, they’ll let me keep it on?”
“No harm in trying, Sally.”
“Okay.”
Sally delved into her suitcase again and pulled out a tiny black thong and black bra.
“What’s the time, Jill?” Sally asked as she pulled on the thong, her anxiety evident in her voice.
“Just coming up to 1.35.”
Jill helped Sally with the rear fastening of her bra, then held the green and yellow rugby shirt out for her. The shirt on, Sally then stepped into her white jogger trousers and tied the waist cord with a bow. She sat back on the edge of her bed.
“When should we go across to the police station?” Sally asked nervously.
“I don’t know. Maybe start out at a quarter to one?” Jill suggested. “Better to be early than late, I guess.”
“True. What’s the time?”
“One forty-three.”
“Let’s get going then. I just can’t bear this waiting any more.”
When Sally wasn’t looking, Jill pulled a large handful of tissues from a box and stuffed them into the two front pockets of her blue jeans. They were able to leave the hotel without being seen by using a back door, and the walk across to the police station took just three minutes. Thankfully, the street was remarkably free of people, who took little notice of them, and they just had to wait for one car to pass before they were able to enter the shabby single-story police building. There was a strong wind blowing, although earlier heavy rain had stopped, and it was very warm.
Inside the police station, just one police woman stood behind the counter. She was not the female officer that had handcuffed Sally and led her away from the airport the previous day.
“Yes?” the officer asked brusquely.
“This is Sally Benton,” Jill announced when Sally’s dry throat prevented her answering for herself.
“So?”
“Um, Sally has agreed with Inspector Makuta to accept a caning for trying to smuggle a few items past customs at the airport.”
“Ah, the airline stewardess? Yes? You’re not in your uniform today.”
“No, we wanted to be discreet,” Jill continued.
“Has the naughty one lost her voice?”
“No,” Sally managed to answer hoarsely. “My throat is rather dry.”
“I’m Officer Kara,” the officer held out her hand. “That’s my first name. No point in formality when I’m going to whip your naked backside, is there?”
Sally’s anxiety was not alleviated in any way by this apparent show of friendliness.
“Yo-you’ll be doing it?” Sally queried with a stutter after both she and Jill had shaken hands with the officer.
“Correct. And who are you?” She looked at Jill.
“I’m Jill Hargrove, Sally’s senior stewardess. The inspector said I’d be able to be with Sally.”
“That’s fine, no problem. I must warn you, though. Do not interfere in any way or we will arrest you and handcuff you.” The officer suddenly laughed. “Hey, if that happens then I might have extra work thrashing your backside as well!”
Neither Sally nor Jill shared the amusement.
Suddenly, the entrance door burst open and another police woman, around the same mid-thirties age as Officer Kara, entered carrying a long thin parcel wrapped in brown paper.
“Officer Julia had to go to the market and but some fresh canes,” Kara explained. “The ones here were old and not so whippy now. Julia, this is Sally and this is Jill. It’s Sally we’ll be whipping today, unless Jill also misbehaves!”
Kara laughed again, while Julia put her package on the counter and shook hands with the two airline stewardesses.
“Let’s see what we have here,” Kara said as she started opening the package. Inside were three long canes, maybe three feet long and about half an inch thick. Kara selected one and tested it with several practice swings. The cane made a whooshing noise as it swung through the air. “Yes, good,” Kara announced.
Sally started shaking visibly at the sound of the cane being whipped through the air.
“Where is Inspector Makuta?” Jill queried.
“Probably in the bar at the end of the street,” smiled Julia.
“Yes, we’ve barred him from the police station,” Kara added. “Unless of course you’d like him to be present?”
Sally shook her head vigorously, causing both police officers to smile.
“Good. So, shall we go through?” Kara asked.
Sally’s heart started pounding. While Kara picked up the three canes and went first, Julia took Sally by the arm and escorted her towards a door leading to the rear of the building. Jill followed on behind. They passed by a small office where another female officer sat reading a magazine, and then went along a short corridor. They came to a door which Kara pushed open and entered. Sally was pushed firmly in by Julia and then Jill trailed behind. Inside was a room with the far wall lined with metal lockers. Against the wall to the left sat a small table onto which Kara deposited the three canes, and to the right, facing a small window, a small wooden chair had been positioned.
“So, are you going to take your medicine?” Kara asked. “Or do we need another colleague to help hold you down?”
“I, um, I’ve never had anything like this before,” Sally mumbled. “I’ve agreed to it, though, so I’ll do my best.”
“Maybe I could help?” Jill suggested, thinking Sally would prefer to be held by a friendly fellow crew member than another strange officer.
Both Sally and the two officers looked at Jill, the officers having a faint smile on their faces, while Sally frowned.
“Up to you, Sally,” Jill added, after seeing her suggestion was not as well received as intended.
“You’re a nice girl, Sally,” Kara said as she smiled more broadly. “I like you. I’m still going to give you a really good hiding, but if you need help to stay in position, then your friend might be more gentle.”
“Okay,” Sally replied, biting her lower lip.
“Good,” Kara responded. “So do you want to undress or would you like us to strip you?”
“I-I can do it.” Sally slowly undid the bow securing the waist cord of her white joggers and allowed the trousers to fall to around her ankles. She tottered as she tried to step out of them and Jill helped steady her. Sally picked up the trousers and folded them roughly.
“Where can I put these?” she asked.
“On the table,” Julia told her.
Sally placed the trousers on the table, over the three canes. Her eyes lingered on the canes. They looked long and cruel. Finally, Sally turned to face the two officers.
“Please take your top off,” Julia requested. “The tail might fall down and get in the way. And your knickers too.”
Conceding the point about her rugby shirt, Sally pulled it off over her head and put it on top of her trousers, leaving her standing in just her black thong and bra, and the plain slip-on shoes she still wore.
“I thought I might be allowed to keep my knickers on,” she protested. “They’re very brief and leave my bottom almost naked. That’s what you’re interested in, isn’t it?”
“Sorry, knickers off,” Kara responded. “Or we can do it for you.”
Sally didn’t answer. She just pushed the black thong down her shapely legs, stepped out of it, and picked it up, placing it on top of her small pile of clothes. Once again, she turned to face the two officers, holding her arms outstretched in a show of surrender, her near-nakedness no longer a concern.
“You’re a fit young lady,” Kara remarked as she came over and delved under the clothing to extract one of the canes. She swished it through the air several times to test its whippiness. Satisfied, she went back across the room to stand by the small chair.
“What now?” Sally asked, her nerves on edge.
“Come and stand at the back of this chair,” Julia told her, gesturing towards the small chair that stood, its back facing them, over towards the window.
“What for?” Sally asked, in hesitation rather than wanting to hear the answer.
“I think they’re going to bend you over the back of it,” Jill whispered in her fellow stewardess’s ear. “Come on.”
Jill took hold of Sally’s upper arm and almost pulled her forward.
“Oh god!” Sally exclaimed. “This is it, isn’t it?”
Jill positioned Sally at the back of the chair and looked at Kara, now flexing the cane in both hands.
“Hands behind your back,” Julia ordered.
“What?” Sally was confused by the instruction, but meekly complied, the backs of her hands now resting against her bottom.
Julia stood on the opposite side of the chair from Jill and folded Sally’s left arm behind her and up her back.
“Maybe you should do the same, Jill?” the officer advocated.
Jill followed suit with Sally’s right arm.
“What are you doing?” Sally wailed, confused, but not liking what was being done to her.
Julia then put her free hand at the back of Sally’s head and pushed it down over the back of the chair. She moved the hand to Sally’s upper back, so Sally would be kept in position by Julia holding her arm folded up behind her back and also exerting pressure on her shoulder blade. Jill watched Julia and copied her technique with Sally’s other arm as well as also putting pressure on Sally’s back. At first, Sally instinctively resisted, and pushed back against the downward pressure on her back and tried to free her arms, but she soon realised they were simply holding her in such a way that the cane could be effectively applied to her bottom. At that point, she stopped struggling and surrendered to being punished.
“Eighteen strokes,” Kara reminded everyone, and tapped her chosen cane several times across Sally’s naked bottom.
Sally gritted her teeth.
Suddenly, a searing pain struck her backside as a loud crack reverberated around the room. Intuitively, she tried to straighten up, but found herself held firmly in place. Her bottom felt like it had just been branded by a hot iron.
Some seconds later, a second loud crack heralded another branding of her backside. This time she grunted loudly, and again tried to straighten against the combined forces of Julia and Jill.
Jill also was struggling. For her, the battle was to hold Sally in position because each stroke obviously caused her colleague much pain and she couldn’t help but push back against the forces holding her down. A third stroke of the cane meant another tussle to hold her. Jill looked across at Julia, who seemed to be coping much better, and got a wry smile in return.
As more strokes were slowly and deliberately applied to Sally’s naked bottom, Jill began to gain an understanding of how much pressure she had to apply to keep Sally in position. Any thoughts she had of not wanting to hurt her colleague were dispelled in the knowledge it was better to get Sally through this ordeal and worry about making it right with her afterwards.
Julia usually worked with a fellow officer when a caning had to be administered and found it quite intriguing to be assisted by a friend of the recipient. She could see Jill struggled at first, but was now providing ample support and Sally could do nothing, other than wait for the next stroke to be applied.
Kara looked down at Sally’s naked bottom. She could see vivid red weals where she had already struck with the cane and tried to find fresh milky white areas on the girl’s buttocks. Her intention was to make sure the punishment was effective, and she relished the task of applying yet more strokes.
Sally had simply lost count of how many strokes had been applied, and had no idea how many more she would have to suffer. It had been her intention to accept the punishment stoically, but now she was crying out after each stroke, and she was beyond caring. She was still being held securely, so there was nothing she could do other than to accept each intense scorching strike across her naked bottom.
Jill was counting, knew ten strokes had been administered and thus there were eight more to go. Now she longed for her colleague’s ordeal to finally be over, but all she could do was hold Sally tightly and allow Kara to do what had to be done. After another two strokes, slowly and deliberately applied, she wondered about whispering words of comfort in Sally’s ear, but she could think of nothing helpful. Thus she stayed silent.
Another stroke whipped Sally’s backside and she yelped again. Although she jerked involuntarily, she had resigned herself to not resisting. The caning would be applied whatever she did, so resisting was pointless. She knew that.
Jill watched Kara swing the cane even further over her right shoulder to thrash Sally’s bottom yet again. The crack as it landed was the loudest yet and Sally screamed.
Now Kara waited even longer before administering another stroke. She looked down at Sally’s weal-covered naked buttocks and struggled to find anywhere the cane had not already struck. She decided to go for low down where the girl would normally sit. She would not be sitting after this, Kara decided.
The cane held high over her right shoulder, Kara focused on her intended target and unleashed the hardest stroke of all. The cane bit into Sally’s bottom with an ear-piercing crack, mirrored only by Sally’s scream. Though she didn’t realise it, Sally’s ordeal was over.
“Whew!” Kara exclaimed. “That was good exercise for me.”
Sally remained in position. She had no idea what was happening.
“We’re finished, young lady,” Kara continued. “You can get up now.”
Jill and Julia both released their grip on Sally and were themselves glad to stand up and catch their breath. Sally, though, remained bending over the back of the chair.
“We’ll leave you to sort your colleague out,” Kara addressed Jill. “We’ll be out in the outer office. Take your time. You may leave whenever you’re ready.”
Jill was now alone with the quietly sobbing Sally. She helped Sally into a standing position and took the tissues she’d stuffed in her jeans pockets to mop the girl’s tear-lined face.
“Wh-what’s happening?” Sally asked.
“It’s all over, all done,” Jill cooed.
“What? Can we go back to the hotel now?”
“We can, but let’s get you tidied up a bit first, and we’d better get some clothes on you before we walk across the square.”
Sally failed to recognise the attempt at humour.
“Take some deep breaths,” Jill continued. “And let your mind clear.”
Sally followed Jill’s advice and became conscious of the extreme pain across the whole of her bottom and her near-nakedness.
“That was the most painful experience of my life!” Sally declared as she started to very gingerly explore the damage to her bottom.
“I can imagine. She really whipped you hard.”
“Probably what she’d been told to do,” Sally intimated. “She was only following orders, I guess. Whew! It still hurts!”
“Look, the best thing is to get you back to the hotel and get some ice on your bottom. Do you feel ready to put some clothes on?”
“Let’s try.”
Jill helped Sally limp across to the table where her clothes were. Jill held Sally’s skimpy thong up.
“Are you going to wear this?”
Sally nodded, so Jill helped thread the garment over her feet and pulled them up for her.
“Careful!” Sally cautioned as Jill was about to pull them right up.
“Good choice,” Jill remarked. “They don’t touch your bum anywhere. How about the trousers?”
“Let’s try.”
As carefully as she could, and with Sally ouching a few times, Jill managed to get Sally’s white baggy joggers over her feet, up her legs and around her bottom. She was particularly delicate when she tied the drawstring with a bow, as loosely as she could without fear of the trousers falling down.
At least Sally’s green and yellow rugby shirt presented little problem.
“Are you okay to go back to the hotel, Sally?”
“I think so. I may need to lean on you though.”
“No problem. Let’s go.”
They walked slowly back to the front office where Kara and Julia stood behind the counter. They smiled.
“Thank you,” Sally greeted Kara, holding her hand out.
“You’re welcome,” Kara said as she shook Sally’s hand.
“Thank you too.” Sally turned to Julia and shook her hand.
Moments later, the two stewardesses began the slow walk across to their hotel, Sally supporting herself with an arm around Jill’s shoulder and Jill helping with an arm around Sally’s waist.
“Do tell me,” Jill began, “Why on earth did you shake those women’s hands and thank them? After what they’d done to you?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I agreed to the whipping and they were only doing their job. They only did what they had to, and they weren’t angry or anything. They were quite nice, really.”
“You haven’t seen what they’ve done to your bum!”
“Is it very marked? I imagine it is. I suppose that’s to be expected.”
“We’ll get you back to your room and I’ll get some ice to…”
Before Jill could finish her sentence, a voice called out from behind them.
“What’s up, Sally? What’s happened?”
They were joined by their aircraft’s co-pilot, Sarah Billings.
“Don’t ask questions and you won’t get told any lies,” Jill retorted.
“Can I help? Where can I touch that doesn’t hurt?”
“Anywhere but my bottom,” Sally responded before Jill could speak.
“Oh my god! So the rumours are true then?”
“What rumours?” Jill asked.
“That Sally was caught trying to smuggle something past customs and got sentenced to a whipping. Captain Westland has been tight-lipped about it, so obviously the crew tried to guess what was going on.”
“So, now everyone knows?”
“Pretty much, I’m afraid, Jill.”
Jill and Sarah managed to get Sally back to her room without being further discovered and laid her face-down on her bed.
“Let’s get her trousers down and see just what the damage is,” Sarah suggested.
Sally reached under her tummy and released the waist cord holding her trousers up. She allowed Sarah and Jill to ease the trousers down to her ankles.
“Wow!” Sarah exclaimed when she saw the eighteen weals that covered Sally’s bottom.
“What are the crew saying, now they know I was caught smuggling?” Sally asked. “Are they really ashamed of me?”
“No way, honey. I mean, who amongst us hasn’t at some time smuggled a little weed or alcohol past customs? We’ve all done it somewhere at some time. You were just unlucky to get caught. We were more worried you’d be sent to some ghastly prison for ages.”
“Yes, that was an option.”
“And instead you took a hiding? Well done, girl!”
“I think I’ve been ‘well done’, the way my bottom feels right now!”
Jill and Sarah both laughed softly. Jill found a flannel and ran it under the cold tap in the sink before placing it delicately on Sally’s bottom. She flinched at first, but found the cold water somewhat soothing.
“Thanks. I think I’d like to try and get some sleep, if you don’t mind. I didn’t get much sleep last night.
Jill and Sarah checked there was nothing more Sally needed, and then left her. As they walked along the corridor to the lift, Sarah spoke.
“So, you went with Sally. Did you hear her getting thrashed?”
“I was with her the whole time. I even helped them hold her down.”
“Really? Why?”
“They were about to call in another police officer, and I just thought Sally would prefer a friend doing it. I hope I was right.”
“Yes, I’m sure it was the right thing to do. So, how did you feel watching her getting it?”
“Guilty, more than anything.”
“Guilty? Why?”
“Because I had much the same in my suitcase; some alcohol and a small amount of cannabis. I was standing right behind Sally. If the custom man had let her through and stopped me, then I’d have been in the trouble she was in.”
“And getting your bottom smacked?”
“Most likely, yes.”
The End
© Kenny Walters 2025