The wizened old man gently rocking himself to and fro in the ancient cane-seated armchair put down his newspaper and watched as the dust-spotted red and white '57 Chevrolet Bel-Air two-door hardtop drew up by the pumps. He staggered to his feet, flipped the filler-cap and thrust in the gas hose.

"Fill her up, please." The young girl with the blonde wavy hair opened the driver's door and stepped out. The old man's eyes lingered on the pale blue jeans cut so short that not one inch of the girl's long tanned legs was concealed. Her tight white top, stretched across young firm breasts, showed her tanned mid-riff off to perfection.

"That ain't no Louisiana accent you got there, miss," the old man commented.

The blonde-haired girl smiled. "No, I'm from London, England. I'm on holiday with my friend. She's from Boston, Massachusetts. We bought this old car to spend six months touring the States."

The fuel flow clicked itself off and the old man withdrew the hose and placed it back in its cradle.

"Check your hood and glass?"

"I'm sorry? Oh, yes, please."

She followed the old man round to the front of the car where he sprung the catch and raised the hood. He pulled the dipstick, wiped it, replaced it and drew it again.

"Oil's okay."

He checked the water in the radiator, and found that was satisfactory too. Pushing down the hood, he grabbed a sponge from a bucket of water and sloshed it on the front screen. Then, with a wiper blade fastened to a stick, he dragged the water off until the glass was sparkling.

The old man couldn't help noticing the friend from Boston in the passenger side of the front seat. About the same height as the English girl, he reckoned, but dark brown straight hair. Good figure too, in those short, short white cotton shorts. The red top stretched across more young firm breasts, and showed another well-tanned mid-riff.

"That's twenty-eight dollars, thirty-two, miss."

Rachel Collins handed him three ten dollar bills, and told him to keep the change.

"Thanks miss, have a nice day," he called after her, as the blonde girl gunned the gas pedal.

"According to the map, another forty minutes and we'll be out of Clay County."

"Uh-huh."

Rachel and her friend, Fay Parker, had spent the night at a motel about thirty miles back. It was one of the typical Louisiana tourist motels with its small separate log cabins together with parking-space by the side, and the large central block comprising office, restaurant and shower rooms.

They'd had a leisurely breakfast, stopped off for a little shopping and, now they'd filled up with gas, they were on the road again.

Ten minutes later, Rachel looked in the driving mirror. She couldn't see anyone behind them.

"What's up?" Fay asked.

"Thought I heard a siren."

Fay looked over at the speedometer.

"We're doing forty-five, ten under the limit. Should be okay."

Fay looked over her shoulder through the large wrap-around rear window.

"Black and white, coming up fast. Must be a sheriff's car. Keep over to the right, Rachel. Maybe he'll go past."

Rachel looked again in the rear-view mirror. Now she saw the black and white car with the flashing red lights and the siren blaring. The patrol car tucked in behind them and Rachel could see the single uniformed occupant waving for her to pull over.

Ahead, she could see a lay-by formed when at some time in the past they'd straightened this stretch of country back road. She switched on the right indicator and pulled in.

"What's wrong, officer?" Rachel asked politely as the young, extremely tall and extremely thin deputy sheriff came up to the open driver's door window.

"G'morning ladies. May I see your driver permit, please?"

Rachel handed him her documents.

"English, eh? How about your friend?"

"I'm from Boston, Massachusetts." Fay spoke for herself.

"You got ID?"

Fay handed him her driving licence too. He checked all the documents, folded them together and put them in one of his breast pockets.

"We have a little difficulty, back at Dawson City. Have you passed through there?"

"Yes," Rachel replied. "We spent the night just outside Dawson City, in a motel."

"That right? Guess I'm going to have to take you ladies in for questioning then. Would you step out of the car, please?"

"Are you arresting us, officer?" Rachel was shocked, and her heart was pounding.

"Just step out of the car, please."

The tall thin deputy sheriff opened the car door and Rachel climbed out. Fay slid across from the passenger side of the front seat and exited from the same door. The deputy now had his right hand on the butt of his automatic pistol, secured in a leather holster hanging from his belt.

"Would you ladies go stand by the front of my car, please?"

The two girls nervously went and stood between the two cars, the deputy just a few steps behind them.

"Now I sure am sorry about this, ladies." He was leering at them, they were sure of it. "But regulations say I have to pat you down. Bend over the hood of my car, please."

"I beg your pardon!" Rachel exclaimed.

"Rachel, just do it!" Fay took her arm.

"What?" Rachel felt her arm being released, and saw Fay placing her hands palm down on the car's hood, lowering herself down until her bottom was sticking out in her brief tight white shorts.

"Oh, for goodness sakes!" Rachel kept on.

"Rachel, do it. Now!" Fay sounded definite.

"I don't believe this!" Rachel made a play of placing her hands one at a time onto the hot flat surface of the car's bonnet, then bending over in exaggerated fashion and sticking her own bottom out.

The deputy searched Rachel first, passing his hands through her blonde wavy hair, down her back to her waist, under her arms, around her breasts, down the front of her short jeans, and around her bottom. The fingers seemed to linger on her bottom.

“For god’s sakes!” Rachel protested. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m searching you for weapons, just like I would for anyone else, young lady.”

Next, the deputy took hold of her left wrist, pulled it away from the bonnet of the car, and twisted it up behind her back. Rachel felt metal handcuffs being locked in place around her wrist. Soon, her right wrist was taken in similar fashion so that both her arms were manacled behind her back.

"Stay put. Right there." Rachel felt a smack land on the seat of her cut-down jeans.

Fay was searched in like manner, and then her arms were secured behind her back by a second pair of handcuffs. She, too, received a smack on the seat of her white shorts.

The deputy took Rachel's and Fay's luggage from the trunk of the old Chevrolet and stowed them in his patrol car. Then he locked their car and pocketed the keys. Taking them each by an arm, he led the two girls to the back of his patrol car and pushed them in.

The thirty minute drive back to Dawson City was made in mostly strained silence. The deputy made a few comments, most trying to be friendly, but he was coldly ignored by the two girls. Eventually, he pulled up outside the police station and Rachel and Fay were led inside.

With the handcuffs removed, the two girls were seated in the main office; cups of coffee were set in front of them, and they waited. After three quarters of an hour had passed, they were told the sheriff would see them now.

Sheriff Dan Briggs was an impressive man. Six feet five inches tall, over two-hundred pounds weight, in his late forties, his short hair appeared artificially black and greased to lie flat against the huge frame of his head.

The two girls stood in front of his desk while Sheriff Briggs leaned back in his chair, leisurely reading through a handful of report forms.

"Sheriff! I wish to protest at the treatment we have received." Rachel wished she didn't sound so 'English' when she complained.

"Rachel, steady girl." Fay cautioned.

Sheriff Dan Briggs smiled at Rachel's outburst.

"Honey," He addressed Rachel. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"And you?" He turned his black eyes towards Fay.

"Just turned nineteen, sir."

"Uh-huh. Ladies, I've got daughters of my own coming up on your ages, and I'm telling you, if I found any of them cavorting around the county in those little bitty shorts, why, I'd take those shorts right down and paddle their behinds."

"Paddle?" Rachel queried.

"He means 'spank'," Fay informed her. Rachel blushed visibly, and the sheriff grinned broadly.

"It’s hot when the sun gets up and anyway these are fashionable," Rachel protested. "And we still haven't been told why we've been brought here!"

"Well, missie, it seems they got around to cleaning out that log cabin you stayed in last night and smelled something they considered suspicious. They called us and we arranged to stop your car. Let me show you exhibit A, found in a search of your luggage." The sheriff opened a drawer in his desk and placed a small plastic bag of a brown resinous substance on the work surface.

"I see by the looks on your faces, that ain't no stranger to you girls."

Rachel was noticeably silent, and Fay stared at the little lump of resin, a worried expression on her face. They both recognized the bag, although the quantity of cannabis it contained seemed larger than they remembered.

"Don't either of you have anything to say now?"

"It was for our own use, we weren't dealing," Fay declared. Rachel looked at her friend, surprised she had been so spontaneous with the confession.

"I can believe that." The sheriff nodded thoughtfully.

"So it is a minor misdemeanour," Fay went on.

"Well, it ain't no federal offence, anyhow. Then again, there's minor and there's minor. Kids like you messing around with drugs ain't so popular with folks around these parts."

"But it isn't like we've hurt anyone." Rachel took up the argument.

"Ah, but how am I to know that? You might have invited a load of local kids around to that cosy little old cabin you rented for the night. They may have gotten a taste for this stuff."

"Oh, for goodness sakes! We were tired after a long day on the road. We had a meal and went to bed. We hardly saw a soul."

"Can you prove that?"

"Sheriff," Fay took over again. "What do you propose to do with us?"

Sheriff Dan Briggs drew a deep breath.

"Well, there's one or two ways we can go on this. Now, I could charge you with possession of cannabis. Of course, we'd have to get this stuff analysed. That'd take a week to ten days, at least. Have to keep you locked up here until the results come through."

"What if we admit it's cannabis?"

"Still has to be analysed. We’d still have to keep you here.”

"And then?"

"Then we’d have a court case."

"How long would that take?"

"Not long. Get it organised in just a week or two."

"So we could be stuck here for at least three weeks!"

"Hey honey, that's just 'til the court case. Then you'd have to serve your sentences."

"Sentences!" Rachel exploded. "Surely a little thing like this would be a fine at most?"

"I don't think you ought to be too sure about that, honey. My experience is, you're liable to get a few months on Clay County's Prison Farm."

"A few months!"

"Not less than three, I'd guess, not more than twelve."

"But sheriff, that's our vacation gone, and more!"

"Should have thought of that before you misbehaved, honey."

Rachel looked at Fay, who looked worried.

The sheriff carried on speaking. "Now you being English, honey, you probably wouldn't have heard about Louisiana prison farms."

"No, you're right; I've never heard of them, sheriff. And my name isn’t ‘honey’ it’s Rachel!”

Dan Briggs chuckled. "Well, they ain't nice places, Rachel. Hard work in the hot sun, seven days a week. Locked up with some not very nice ladies. Ladies who'd take quite a fancy to your butts, from what I can see with you both in them tiny shorts of yours. Of course, then you’d be wearing jump suits in a not very fetching shade of orange, but I bet those ladies would soon have them off you. Heck, they’d probably enjoy doing it too!"

"What?" Rachel exclaimed, not really believing what she was hearing.

"And the guards ain't too friendly neither. Why, you get into any trouble in there, and you’d soon find yourselves stripped off and bent over a barrel while they leather your asses. And I ain't never known anyone not get into some kind of trouble in there. Hey, they might even invite me along to watch!"

Rachel sat with her mouth open, not able to find words to express herself.

"It's true, they're awful places," Fay confirmed.

It all became too much for Rachel, and as the tears began to flow, she covered her face with her hands.

"Hey now, honey, don't y’all go getting upset now. Heck, this is a business, ain't it just? And you two, you know, you so remind me of my own two daughters." The sheriff leaned back in his chair, obviously deep in thought. Then he continued. “’Course, if you were my own two daughters, well I'd do anything to keep you out of that prison farm. That's such a terrible, terrible, place. And I can see you're basically nice good girls, just like my own."

"That doesn't seem to be doing us much good right now, does it sheriff?" Fay placed her hand on Rachel's arm.

"It could. Like I was saying, I wouldn't let my daughters go to that awful place, no matter what. Why, I'd just tan their backsides so they didn't sit down for a month. One of the perks of being a daughter of the sheriff, I guess you could say." Sheriff Dan Briggs chuckled to himself.

"But we're not your daughters, Sheriff," Fay pointed out.

"No, but you're like them. You're nice and you're polite and you're respectful, just like them. Now if your parents were here, maybe we could do something. Let them spank your backsides."

"But they're not here, sheriff."

"No. No, they're not. But maybe I could kind of stand in for them. Act on their behalf, so to speak."

"What exactly are you suggesting, sheriff?" Fay already had a good idea where this conversation was leading.

"Well, I probably shouldn't be doing this, but that prison farm sure is one hell of a place."

"Yes, sheriff, we’ve kind of got that."

"I really wouldn't like to see two nice girls like you going there. It would not rest easy on my conscience."

"So we understand,” Fay's voice showed her impatience, "But what exactly are you offering us?"

"Okay. What say we keep you here overnight? We'll feed you and take care of your car and other property. Then in the morning, you can say to me, okay we did it, we have to stand trial and take our chances down on the prison farm. Or you can say, Sheriff, we want you to treat us just like your own daughters. We've misbehaved, now you do to us just what you'd do to your own kin."

"And that means just what, exactly?" Rachel found her voice.

Sheriff Dan Briggs merely grinned back at her.

"Take a guess!" Fay's sarcasm was fired by her loathing of this large man who held all the power.

"You mean...?"

"Yes, Rachel, you’ve understood the sheriff perfectly,” Fay confirmed. And of course he’d be doing it as a kindness for letting us off the prison farm." Fay's continued sarcasm seemed to make no impression on Sheriff Briggs.

Rachel stared at her, taking time to absorb her friend's words.

"Anyway girls, you don't have to decide right now. My deputy'll show you to your accommodation, then you two can have a chat and a think about it, and let me know in the morning." The sheriff turned away to indicate the conversation was at an end, and soon the two girls were taken down some stairs to the cell block.

The rows of cells seemed to occupy most of the basement of the building, and the whole area was empty, so when they were ushered into separate, neighboring cells, each containing a bench seat that doubled as a bed, because of the bar construction, they could see each other and converse quite freely. Once they'd settled into their new surroundings, they lay down on neighbouring bunk beds.

"We should have opened the windows as soon as we woke up," Rachel said, thoughtfully.

"True," Fay agreed. “Too late to worry about that now.”

"We’re in big trouble, aren’t we?”

"I guess so. I really can’t see how we could possibly deny the stuff was ours. Whatever else happens, I think we need to just own up and take the consequences."

"Maybe if we do that the court will go easy on us and let us pay a small fine?” Rachel suggested.

"That’s a nice thought but I think we have to be realistic here. Sheriff Briggs has got us right where he wants us. Whatever we do I reckon we’re in for something extremely unpleasant.”

“Are these prison farms really so awful, Fay? I mean, I’d hate to be locked up, but maybe it wouldn’t be for too long, and surely the staff would protect us from the other inmates, wouldn’t they?”

“They’re pretty bad places, Rachel. Like the sheriff said, it’s working long hours out in the sun, probably awful food and just water to drink. As for the staff protecting us, I wouldn’t count on it. They might let the other women have some fun with us just to keep them quiet.”

“Oh god! I don’t even want to think about what that could mean. So, what can we do? Can’t we appeal to someone? Aren’t we entitled to free legal advice or anything?”

“We are, but that would mean appearing in court and taking whatever sentence the judge hands out. Sheriff Briggs seems pretty certain that would mean time on the prison farm. He might even have a say, behind the scenes of course, on our sentence.”

“And this private arrangement. How bad would that be?”

“Taking up Sheriff Briggs on his offer to spank us? I guess it depends on what he uses and how much protection he allows us, if any.”

“Protection? What do you mean?”

“I got the feeling that when he spanks his daughters, if he really has any daughters, then he spanks them on their bare behinds.”

“Meaning he wants to do the same to us?”

“Exactly. How would you feel about that, Rachel?”

“I wouldn’t like it one bit. I’ve never been spanked, Fay. Have you?”

“A couple of times by my mom when I was younger, and I got paddled in school once, but I’m sure Sheriff Briggs has something in mind that will be a lot more painful.”

"I particularly don’t like the idea of a man spanking me on my bare bottom, Fay! That never happened to you, did it?”

“Not in school, no, but my mom surely took my jeans and panties down.”

“I really don’t like this idea at all, Fay!”

“I know you don’t want to be spanked, Rachel, but maybe it’s our best option. Heck, we might even get spanked on the prison farm.”

“What? You’re kidding, right?”

“Look, I don’t really know. I’ve never served time on a prison farm. But I do know they are not nice places to be.”

"You're saying we should take Sheriff Briggs up on his offer?"

"I think we should at least think seriously about it, yes."

"It would be just so utterly humiliating, Fay. We're both over eighteen, for goodness sakes."

"It would be extremely painful too, Rachel. Don't forget that."

"I was thinking the humiliation could be the worst part."

"Don't count on it, Rachel; he did say he would paddle us. Traditionally that's a long strip of solid wood, maybe eighteen or twenty inches long and four or five inches wide, on a handle. It's made of solid wood and, believe me, it can really hurt. On the other hand, he might use a leather strap, or perhaps a hickory switch. That's a thin branch cut off a young hickory tree; it's very springy and it surely does sting."

"It all sounds just too horrendous to contemplate. Certainly not my idea of a spanking."

"You were thinking he would just put us across his knee and pat our behinds a few times, huh? I'm afraid not, Rachel. I think that's very unlikely. Given a choice, I'd go for the leather strap."

"Yes, but hold on, surely we could appeal to a higher court, or something. That is, if we were tried and sent to this prison farm."

"True. But it would take time. Meanwhile, we'd be at the prison farm."

"I know you say they’re terrible places, but surely it must be better than being spanked?"

"Don’t count on it! They really do have a bad reputation. They work you long and hard and at night we'd be fair game for the butch dikes."

"Dikes?"

"Lesbians."

“Fair game?”

“They could have a lot of fun at our expense, and that wouldn’t be very pleasant for us. You can count on that, Rachel.”

"So, you think a spanking from the sheriff is the best option we’ve got, Fay? Seriously?"

"We don’t have an easy option, Rachel, that’s for sure. Sore behinds might be our best choice. I mean, how long can it take? A few minutes of serious discomfort and we’re out of here."

“A few minutes of serious discomfort done in an extremely humiliating way, Fay.”

At around four o'clock, they heard banging noises and someone coming down the stairs to the cell area. The outer door was unlocked and opened, and they saw a deputy sheriff bringing two mugs of steaming coffee on a tray.

"Thought you girls might be getting thirsty," he smiled.

Deputy Gary Gates was a blonde-haired man going to grey, and had a warm friendly way about him. He held the tray near to the cell bars while the girls helped themselves to cream.

"Anything you girls want, you just holler."

"Out of here?" The deputy continued smiling at Rachel's attempted humour, and pulled a chair from next to the outer door. He sat down near to the girls' adjoining cells.

"The way I heard it, the sheriff has given you a way out." The smile turned to a broad grin. The two girls weren't so amused.

"Deputy, what are our chances if we go for a trial?" Rachel became quite serious.

"Aw honey, you call me Gary. This is a real friendly place."

"Really? Not from where we're sitting, it isn't. So, Gary, what are our chances?"

"Trouble is, honey, when you get right down to it, you are guilty, aren't you?"

Fay and Rachel both nodded.

"I think the evidence against us was helped on a little," Rachel informed him.

Deputy Gates chuckled and stroked his chin.

"Yes, well, you might just have a point there, honey. Don't go getting the wrong idea, though. Dan Briggs is basically an honest man. He's a damn good sheriff. 'Bout the best we've ever had. Trouble is, with all these new-fangled offenders' rights laws and all that kind of thing, folks around here were seeing too many people they knowed was guilty getting off because of some technicality or other.

"Dan Briggs stopped all that. Okay, he might occasionally doctor the evidence a trifle here and there, but he would be the last to try and convict an innocent party." Deputy Gates nodded thoughtfully to himself as he reflected on his own words.

"So, if we opt for a trial and plead guilty, say we're sorry and so on, what are the chances of getting a fine each?" Rachel asked.

"'Bout zero. Folks around here don't like youngsters fooling around with drugs. You'd be for the prison farm. No doubt about it."

"It doesn't sound a very nice place."

"It ain't. Wasn't designed to be. It's a hell-hole and no mistake."

"So what do you think we should do?"

"You're Rachel, ain't you? Well, Rachel, it ain’t really for me to go offering you legal advice, but I hear tell you two girls are on vacation and time spent on that old prison farm is going to really ruin it. I could add that the chances of you serving even a couple of months without getting some kind of a hiding, either from the staff or the inmates, are nigh on non-existent, never mind the other horrors there. All in all, take it from the sheriff and get on with your vacation."

"Does the sheriff really have daughters of his own, like he says?" Fay asked.

"Yep, got two of 'em and a son. Oldest is about sixteen."

"And would he really treat them like he's proposing to treat us?" Rachel wanted to know.

"I know he would. We pulled his older daughter over one time and smelt alcohol on her breath. Sheriff told us to keep her in the cells overnight, then, come morning, he tanned her backside good, right here in the cells. To my way of thinking, that did her a whole lot more good than if we'd charged her for drink-driving and she'd lost her licence and all. Saves on the paperwork too."

"Does he do this often? To other girls, I mean." Fay asked.

"Now and again, yes. Folks around here know if their daughters get into trouble they won't come to any real harm. They'll be back home the day after, even if sitting down ain't the first thing on their mind when they get there. Folks kind of like it that way."

The girls finished their coffee and handed their mugs back to the deputy, who went back out of the cell area and up the stairs.

The two girls remained silent for a while, deep in their own thoughts. Eventually Fay broke the silence.

“So, what are you thinking, Rachel?”

"I suppose what's really going through my mind, I can't bear the thought of being spanked, and I particularly can't bear the thought of being spanked by that man."

"Maybe you just have to look at it as being the best of a pretty awful deal. I guess being spanked doesn't bother me as much as serving time on a prison farm. As for Sheriff Briggs doing the spanking, well, I guess it'll hurt much the same whoever does it."

"It wasn’t the pain that was concerning me so much as the thought of having it done on my bare bottom, by a man! I’m sure he’d get a real thrill out of it, wouldn’t he?"

"It wouldn’t surprise me."

"That's awful!"

"At the end of the day, Rachel, does it really make any difference? Our backsides will be just as sore."

At seven o'clock, a small slim attractive woman in her mid to late thirties, with shoulder-length dark hair, pushed a trolley into the cell block. She also wore the uniform of a deputy sheriff.

"'Evening girls, I'm Loretta. I've brought you your evening meal."

The two girls sat up on their makeshift beds.

"Home-made watercress soup to start with, okay?"

Both girls readily accepted and were handed bowls of delicious-smelling soup from the heated food trolley. Loretta sat down on the chair left by Deputy Gary Gates.

"You the two druggies, then?" Loretta's tone belied her pleasant friendly appearance.

"We were found in possession of a very small quantity of cannabis, yes," Fay retorted. “At least it was small before we arrived here.”

"We like to make sure of our case, if something goes to court,” Loretta chuckled. “Is that where we’re heading, or are y’all gonna take a lickin' from the sheriff?"

"Maybe." Fay spoke between spoonfuls of soup.

"Maybe not." Rachel contradicted.

"Oh, I'd advise it," Loretta said. "Better to drive out of here of your own accord rather than get taken to that prison farm. And they sell nice soft cushions over at the hardware store!" Loretta giggled at her own humour.

"Actually, we don't find it all that amusing." Rachel said stuffily, sounding very ‘English’ again. "At the moment, we're not sure about taking any particular course of action." Rachel looked sternly at Fay.

The two girls finished their soup, and Loretta handed them plates of a fried turkey concoction with rice, peppers and sweet corn. It was superb. As the two girls tucked in, Loretta carried on talking.

"Honey," The woman addressed Rachel. “Let me tell you something. Compared to all the kinds of trouble two young girls like you could get themselves into in this harsh ol' world, a couple of spankings ain't nothing. So come tomorrow, you just bend over and let us pull down them little bitty shorts of yours. And when ol' Dan Briggs has finished tannin' your behinds, you just thank him kindly for his trouble and get on with enjoying your vacation. You hear me?"

"Yes, we hear you," Rachel replied tetchily.

Their meal was rounded off with portions of apple pie and cream and ice cream, followed by hot coffee. Afterwards, Loretta packed away the crockery and began to wheel the trolley out. As she passed through the door, she looked back over her shoulder.

"Mind you girls heed what I been saying to you, now. Come tomorrow, I want to see both of you bending over ready to take your spankings. I'll bring your breakfast around eight-thirty. 'Night."

As the two girls lay back on their beds, they both silently thought things over.

"Rachel, we really only have one option, you know."

"No, that's not actually correct, Fay."

"Rachel, it is! Think about it. Even if we were really, really lucky in court, if everything went our way, the very least we could expect would be, what? Four weeks on the prison farm."

Rachel sighed. "Yes, I suppose that would be about as good as we could expect."

"Right, so that's four weeks out of our vacation. Four weeks of absolute misery. On the other hand, this time tomorrow night we could be tucked up in a nice comfortable motel room somewhere miles from here."

"Yes Fay, but how would we be feeling?"

"Sore, I guess!" Fay smiled with embarrassment. "But then, how would we be feeling on our first night in the prison farm?"

"Not great, I suppose," Rachel admitted.

"Let’s take the spanking, Rachel."

"Let me sleep on it. It’s the humiliation that concerns me."

"Humiliation can't hurt you, Rachel."

"You think?"

"The thing is, Rachel, we could spend all night tearing ourselves apart, looking for some nice easy way out of this mess, when there just isn't one. Why don't we simply accept we're going to get spanked in the morning, stop worrying about it, and get a good night's sleep?"

"Perhaps you've got a point there, Fay.” Rachel sighed deeply. “Okay, let’s do it.”

After the English girl had laid down on the hard flat bed, she continued the conversation. “You know when that lady who brought us our supper was talking, she didn’t seem in any doubt we’d have our shorts pulled down. I’m certainly not bending over in front of Sheriff Briggs with just my knickers on!"

Fay laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Rachel demanded.

"What makes you think they’ll let you keep your panties on, Rachel?"

"What!"

Fay laughed again, louder. “G’night, Rachel.”

****

The bright morning light streamed into the cell block through a pair of barred windows high up on the wall. As the girls rubbed the sleep from their eyes, they heard the rattling and crashing of the food trolley. Loretta, the female deputy who had served them their evening meal, reappeared.

"What time is it?" Rachel asked drowsily, of no-one in particular.

"Eight-fifteen, honey. Here's your orange juice." Rachel took the glass of fresh juice and started sipping at it.

Loretta then handed out plates of bacon, eggs and corn bread.

“So, girls, have you decided whether we’re taking you into court today?” Loretta asked.

Fay looked anxiously at Rachel.

After a pause, Rachel replied, “No, I think we’ll let the sheriff have his little bit of fun at our expense." She sounded extremely indignant.

"Hey honey! What do you want me to say? You've got a cute little bottom. 'Course I'll enjoy watching you get your little panties taken down and your bare bottom tanned. So what? It means you’ll be out of here and getting on with your vacation by lunch time."

"Hold on!” Rachel exclaimed. “Sheriff Briggs is a man. Surely, it wouldn’t be right for a man to spank us on our bare bottoms?”

Loretta laughed. “Hell honey, having a man see your naked butts ought to be the least of your worries. I will pass on your concerns though.” Loretta chuckled before asking more seriously, “But you’re both going to take the spankings, are you?"

“I will,” Fay confirmed. “Rachel?”

Rachel nodded. “Yes, count me in.”

"Good. Glad to hear you're being sensible at last."

"Do you know when it's going to be done?" Rachel asked.

"The sheriff was up late chasing a pair of car thieves. Doubt he'll be in much before ten. You've plenty of time yet, honey." Loretta smiled.

The girls finished their breakfasts and handed the plates back to Loretta.

“What gets me, “Rachel began. “What really infuriates me is that you all seem to be treating this as some kind of big joke. Getting spanked is no joke to me, I can assure you!”

“Leave it, Rachel,” Fay cautioned.

“That’s okay,” Loretta said softly. “Sounds like our English friend is something of a stranger to having her hide busted. Rachel, this whole experience just might do you a bit of good, you know? Maybe you need to learn a lesson or two about being an adult.”

Rachel looked away.

"I'll be around all morning," Loretta seemed not to notice Rachel's displeasure. "Holler if you need anything."

Loretta then left the cell block area, pushing the trolley in front of her, and the two girls were alone again.

"So you agree with what Sheriff Briggs is going to do to us then, Fay?" Rachel asked.

Fay shrugged. “My feeling is, we did what we did and we got caught. We have to pay a price for that, and getting spanked is simply the least worst option. Okay. It’s harsh justice, but when it’s done we’re free and back on our vacation, sore and a bit wiser, but we’re free.”

"I see your point, Fay. I guess I’m just terrified of the next few hours.”

At around a quarter to eleven, they heard fresh banging and clattering from outside the cell block door.

"Coffee?" Suggested Rachel.

Fay shrugged her shoulders.

The door to the cell block was pushed open, and Deputy Gary Gates entered carrying a small pine table which he placed on the floor opposite the girls' cells. Fay and Rachel were a little surprised to see him scuttle back out the door without saying a word.

"Why are they giving us a table to eat off?" Rachel asked. “I thought we’d be getting out of here soon.”

Fay looked at her uncertainly. “I’m not sure that’s there for us to eat off, Rachel.”

“What else would you use a table for?” Rachel snapped.

Before Fay could reply, Deputy Gates re-appeared carrying a large white pillow which he placed on the edge of the table before leaving again.

“Yep, doesn’t look like they’re serving us another meal,” Fay confirmed.

“Oh god! We’re getting spanked, like now!” Rachel squealed as the tension rose in both girls.

The door to the cell block area burst open and Loretta entered carrying a small paper bag.

“Just so’s you know, the sheriff’s in the office and sorting out a few things.”

“So we’re, I mean,” Rachel stammered.

Loretta grinned. “The bit you’ve both been looking forward to isn’t far off now.” She saw the anxious look on Rachel’s face, against the more accepting expression on Fay’s. “Some good news though. The sheriff has decided to use a leather strap on your behinds. Might be a mite softer than a wooden paddle, not by much though.”

“Marvellous!” Rachel responded under her breath.

“And,” Loretta continued. “And I checked through your luggage and found you each had these.” The female deputy handed the paper bag through the cell bars to Fay.

“What’s that?” Rachel asked.

“My red thong and your white one,” Fay replied.

“The sheriff reckoned you could wear those little bitty things and then you wouldn’t be naked below your waists, which should suit you, Rachel. At the same time, they’ll leave your butts nigh on bare so’s the sheriff can whip your butts properly. How’s that for friendly service?”

Fay handed Rachel her small item of underwear, although neither girl replied.

“I’ll give y’all a few minutes to change,” Loretta said as she left the cell block area.

“I suppose it’s better than nothing,” Rachel remarked grudgingly as she stripped off her cut-down jeans and brief white panties.

“And he’s going to leather our backsides rather than use a paddle,” Fay added as she too stripped off her brief white shorts and lacey white panties.

“It’s just all so horrible,” Rachel exclaimed as she put on her white thong and reached for her cut-down jeans.

“Are you putting your cut-downs back on?” Fay asked, stepping awkwardly into her red thong underwear.

Rachel paused. “Yes, why not?”

“I don’t think they’ll be staying on for long.”

“Oh god!”

“My thinking is, Rachel, leave them off and then you won’t have someone groping around as they take them down.”

“You think it’s going to be soon? I mean, I don’t want to sit around for hours in just these tiny little knickers.”

“Five to ten minutes at most, I’d say.”

Fay had barely uttered the words when the door to the cell block burst open and Loretta came in.

“Okay girls, time for your spankings.” She looked at both girls and saw them both standing in their thong underwear. “That was a sensible thing to do, girls. No point in putting your shorts back on and making us have to pull them down. Which of you is going first?”

The girls looked at each other.

“Probably best if you go first, Rachel,” Fay suggested, concerned for her friend.

“No,” Rachel shook her head vigorously.

“Looks like you first then, Fay.” Loretta unlocked the cell door and slid it open. She reached in, grabbed Fay by the wrist and pulled her out. “You know what you gotta do.”

Fay looked again anxiously at her English friend, just as the door to the cell block opened again and Sheriff Dan Briggs joined them. He carried a broad leather strap.

"Morning girls. Hope you had a good night's sleep." The sheriff grinned.

Neither girl responded. They both stared at the broad leather strap, maybe two feet long and at least four inches in width. The brown leather looked thick and heavy.

“This is your last chance to back out,” Sheriff Briggs continued. “Do I spank you both or do we go over to the courtroom?”

“If we take the spankings, sheriff, is that the end of it? We’ll be free to leave? No record or anything?” Fay asked.

"Oh yes sirree, you needn't have no worries on that score. Take your spankings and you're free to go."

"Then we'll take the spankings."

"Both of you?" The sheriff looked uncertainly at Rachel.

"B-both of u-us." Rachel confirmed nervously./p>

"Okay. Well, I guess we'd better get to it. Looks like you’re going first, Fay?”

“Yes sir.”

“Come on, honey, you know what that pillow’s for,” Loretta added.

Fay moved close to the leading edge of the table and folded herself over the soft white pillow. She had to stand on tip-toe to get right across it, and took it upon herself to pull her red T-shirt higher up her back so her bottom was totally exposed, and even most of her back. Meanwhile, Rachel looked on apprehensively. She could see Sheriff Briggs looking down admiringly at Fay’s virtually naked bottom. He was clearly enjoying every moment.

Rachel watched, terrified, as Sheriff Dan Briggs carefully hovered the thick strap barely half an inch over the delicate pale surface of Fay’s bottom. Pausing just briefly, he swung his right arm back up fully four feet before hurling it down so the heavy leather crashed across Fay's bottom with a deafening crack.

Fay gasped then breathed out heavily before gasping again. Her fingers squeezed the edge of the table like powerful vices as she struggled to remain still with the pain spreading across her entire backside.

A broad red mark was already forming across the centre of Fay's bottom as Rachel saw the powerfully-built sheriff draw the strap back again. In an instant, the belt was swung quickly down until it landed with another mighty crack across Fay’s effectively bare bottom.

As the spanking continued, Rachel turned away and sat down on the bunk bed in her cell, not wanting to see her friend’s suffering. She could still see swing after swing of the leather strap out of the corner of her eye, and hear the sharp crack each time it struck Fay’s naked backside. She also was only too aware that with each stroke so her time to take her place across the pillow was drawing ever closer. It didn’t help that Fay was starting to cry out each time the strap whipped across her bottom, and the cries were becoming louder and louder.

Turning her head towards her friend’s punishment, Rachel was torn between placing her hands over her eyes to restrict her view and peeking between her fingers so she could see what was happening. As well as looking at the strap swinging down on Fay’s backside, Rachel also observed with some consternation the enthralled expression on the face of Loretta.

“Uuuhhh!!” Fay almost screamed as yet another stroke of the heavy strap slammed across her naked bottom.

Fay waited for the next stroke, and Rachel’s heart missed a beat as she saw the big sheriff take a step back to admire his handiwork. Then she heard Sheriff Briggs speak the words she hoped she’d never hear, but knew had to come at some time.

“Okay, honey. Guess that’ll do for you. I don’t reckon you’ll be forgetting that li’l ole lesson in a while.”

Rachel watched as Fay pressed the palms of her hand firmly on the table and pushed herself up. Loretta moved forward and placed a comforting hand on Fay’s shoulder as the nineteen-year-old gently massaged her aching backside. Now Loretta was leading Fay back towards her cell, and Rachel began to panic.

“Your turn now, honey.” Loretta addressed the English girl, letting go of Fay’s arm and moving towards Rachel’s cell.

“Okay! I’m coming!” Rachel held both hands out, palms first as though fending off Loretta’s attempt to grab hold of her wrist. Her shaking body somewhat betrayed her attempt to present a brave countenance, but her legs did somehow transport her past Loretta and the sheriff until she stood facing the end of the table where the pillow lay waiting. After a sideways glance at the sheriff, Rachel forced herself to bend over the pillow and lay across it. She wriggled about a little and tucked her knees in, feeling the proper thing to do was to place her bottom in the ideal position for her spanking.

“Is this okay?” she asked timidly.

“That’s just fine, honey,” Sheriff Briggs answered. “Sorry, Rachel.”

“Maybe pull your shirt up so it’s well clear of your behind?” Loretta added, and Rachel reached back and pulled her T-shirt far higher than was really necessary.

“Now Honey, this ain’t going to be easy.” Rachel heard the gruff voice of Sheriff Briggs bellowing behind her. “Just keep your butt still and it’ll all be over in next to no time. Okay?”

“Okay.” Rachel’s voice was muffled, having buried her face in the soft pillow.

“Just relax and let the strap do its job,” the sheriff recommended, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Say when you’re ready.”

Rachel paused, knowing that when she did answer she would likely experience the worst pain of her life. Only when the delay became uncomfortable did she respond with, “I’m ready.”

With her face pushed into the pillow, Rachel was totally unaware the sheriff had already begun swinging the heavy strap down until it slammed across her whole naked bottom.

“Aaaagghh!!” Rachel screamed out, the sudden bolt of pain catching her completely by surprise. “Sorry,” she quickly added. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

“You scream as much as you want, Rachel,” Sheriff Briggs told her. “I’ll still spank you the same though.”

“Of course,” Rachel confirmed, still embarrassed by her sudden shriek.

The following swing of the strap confirmed the sheriff’s words. It hurt and stung, and Rachel cried out again, “Aaarrrgh!! Nooo!!”

Rachel clung to the far edge of the table, knowing she must not reach back and soothe the agony her bottom was feeling, however tempting it was. She cried out again as the strap crashed across her naked bottom, momentarily squashing the soft mounds of her buttocks and imparting a deep reddening on the pale creamy flesh.

“Keep still, darlin’. I know it hurts but it has to be done,” Sheriff Briggs defended his actions, just before he sent the heavy strap hurtling down again.

“I know!” Rachel responded as the fresh bout of pain spread right across her backside and took her breath away.

Fay had been standing in her cell with her back to the proceedings as she gently tended her own sore bottom. But now she had recovered sufficiently from her own ordeal to become inquisitive about what was happening to Rachel. As she turned, Fay was just in time to see another heavy blow from the strap smack into Rachel’s bare bottom, and to see the look of absolute agony crease her friend’s face.

“Oooooohh!!” Rachel moaned as if to confirm her misery.

For the first time, Fay could see the look of grim determination on Sheriff Briggs’ face as he applied the next stroke, and imagined he would have had that same resolve when he was dealing with her. All his attention was focused on spanking Rachel firmly, not merely enjoying the site of her bare buttocks.

“Uuuhhh!!” Rachel’s cry of pain took Fay’s attention away from Sheriff Briggs and onto the tears now flowing down the sides of Rachel’s face. When Fay looked towards Loretta, she saw the female deputy staring down at Rachel’s red sore marked bottom with amused fascination.

“Nooooo!!” Another cry from Rachel marked yet another stroke of the strap, while Loretta continued to enjoy the spectacle.

“Aaaaaarrgh!!” Rachel’s eyes were stained red from the tears, and her cheeks smudged with dampened make-up, Rachel clearly was experiencing a horror such as she had never had to endure in her previous eighteen years.

As yet more spanks from the heavy strap rained down, Fay turned to sorting herself out. She located her white shorts and lacey white underwear and slowly and carefully put them on over her red thong. Once dressed, she returned to watching Rachel getting her spanking. Rachel’s naked bottom was now red and sore, testament to the efficacy of Sheriff Briggs’ use of the strap.

Then, suddenly, there was silence.

“Okay, Rachel.” Sheriff Briggs’ booming voice echoed round the concrete walls. “I surely hope you’ve learned a good lesson, girl.”

“Yes.” Rachel’s weak, croaky voice struggled to respond. “Yes, I’ve learned my lesson, thank you Mr Briggs.”

“Good. Okay Rachel, you can get up when you want. You and Fay are free to go.”

The sheriff then left the cell block area.

Loretta looked down at Rachel, still lying across the pillow. “Y’all take your time, Rachel. Get your breath back and ease yourself up when you’re ready.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Rachel was still in a state of shock and not thinking clearly, otherwise she might have wondered why she was thanking the woman who was complicit in causing such agony to her backside.

“Come on, Rachel, let’s get you dressed,” Fay said as she exited her cell and took hold of Rachel’s shoulders.

With Fay’s assistance, Rachel was pulled back to her feet and led slowly back into her cell.

“That was awful,” Rachel sobbed.

“It’s meant to hurt, honey.” Loretta’s voice appeared less sympathetic as she also helped the girl through the cell door. “Wouldn’t want you coming back for a second dose anytime soon.”

“Don’t worry!”

“I daresay you two girls are thinking yourselves hard done by, ain’t you now?” Loretta persisted. “Well, there’s plenty of stuff in this world that’s a whole lot worse than a hard spanking. You just remember that.”

“Did it have to be so hard?” Rachel moaned.

“I reckon it did. You girls were guilty of something plenty serious. You each got fifteen licks and I reckon that was about right. Your lives would have been much worse in that prison farm, believe me. The sheriff did you both a real good favor there.”

“It doesn’t feel that way right now,” Rachel lamented.

Loretta laughed. “I’m sure it don’t. You girls get yourselves together and come up to the office. I’ll have coffee ready for you. Your car’s just outside and all ready for when you want to leave,” Loretta confirmed as she turned to leave the cell block area.

“Help me on with my jeans, please Fay,” Rachel asked when they were alone.

“How are you feeling now?” Fay asked as she helped Rachel put on her cut-down jeans.

“The pain isn’t so bad now, but is my bottom sore!”

“Mine too. I’m glad we bought that old Chevrolet; nice soft suspension and seats.”

“Good point.”

“Are we really going to have coffee with them after what they did to us?”

“I kind of think I’d like to,” Rachel replied.

“Okay, if that’s what you want.”

They left the cell block area and climbed the stairs to the main office. They found Sheriff Briggs, Loretta and Deputy Gary Gates sitting around a desk, all drinking coffee.”

“Here’s your coffee, ladies.” The sheriff pointed to two mugs of coffee. “Pull up a couple of chairs if you want.”

“Thanks.” Rachel made a point of pulling one of the chairs nearer to the group and sat down on it, slowly and carefully, with the three law officers watching her with baited breaths.

Fay decided she’d just lean against a neighboring desk.

“You girls feeling better now?” Sheriff Briggs asked.

“A bit,” Rachel conceded briefly.

“Just sore now, I guess,” Fay added.

After a short silence while everyone concentrated on their coffee, Sheriff Briggs asked with a chuckle, “So, how do you two girls feel about our little old system of alternative justice?”

“Better than a prison farm, I guess,” Fay replied.

“It was quite an experience,” Rachel confirmed.

“Now you girls are always welcome to come back and see us anytime you want,” Sheriff Briggs continued. “You broke the law and you paid the price. It’s all done and dusted now, you hear?”

Fay grimaced.

“I appreciate that, sir,” Rachel almost smiled.

“No hard feelings?”

Fay again remained silent.

Rachel responded, “We knew we were breaking the law, sir. We just didn’t think we’d get caught. I see now how disrespectful that was to your community and I’d like to apologize. That was the first time anyone ever spanked me, and I’m glad you did it, sir.”

“I appreciate that, Rachel. I really do.”

The End

© Kenny Walters 2025 (after an earlier version published in 2005)