My Shame Pt 07

Eight women filed out of the prep room, leaving me cuffed, shackled, and still stark naked with the two clothed female guards. I had now been without clothes for over 48 hours and still was not getting used to it. We stood silently for a while before Mendez decided to talk.

"The auditorium is filling with the citizen witnesses right now. We should have a full house today."

Then Carla said, "Warden brought in our best executioner for this. She goes by the pseudonym 'Kim.' That is not her real name of course. She is the best. Great accuracy and high velocity."

Of course this did not make me feel any better. As my fate drew nearer, I was becoming more and more anxious. I started to shake uncontrollably. I thought I might throw up. As horrible as these two had been to me, I think they even started to feel sorry for me.

Carla patted me gently on my bare buttocks and quiety said, "Sorry, pal, we gotta do this."

Mendez just looked at her feet. She seemed to realize that this was more than just their average corporal punishment.

Carla asked Mendez, "Do you have the gag ready?"

"Yeah"

Then Carla held up an old, crumpled paper bag and explained, "We have a special gag we use in case warden orders it. It will keep a criminal from biting their tongue, and since it's hollow, it will keep the airway open to prevent choking if you throw up. She will have us use it if you use any foul or abusive language."

A little while later, Carla received an alert on her phone.

"Ok. It's time. They said to bring him in. Let's get this over with."

They shuffled me over to the closed auditorium doors.

Mendez said, "Now it's going to be very bright in there and filled with lots of good clothed people. Since you are a stark naked criminal, and they are all fully dressed, your first instinct will be to try to stop and turn around. But you know that ain't gonna work. We will drag your naked ass out there if we have to. So let's just make this easy for all of us."

With that, Carla pushed open the doors and the two of them pulled me across the threshold.

I was on the edge of a concrete floor that was very brightly lit. It took a few seconds for my vision to adjust as they shuffled me forward. Initially, I could hear the chatting and murmuring of a large number of people just off to my right. After we entered, the room became rather quiet as all eyes turned toward me.

The punishment area we were standing on was a roughly square area about 10 meters on a side. To my right was a set of tiered stadium seats separated from the stage by a one meter high concrete block knee wall. There were five rows of about ten seats per row. As I expected, every seat was filled. Fifty sets of eyes were now staring at my completely naked, shackled body. Mendez was right, my legs suddenly stopped working. I wanted to run away. But they were prepared for this reaction, and continued to drag me toward the middle of the room. I had suffered great humiliation over the past week, but nothing was worse than the deep shame of being forced to be the singular, unwilling, buck naked star of this horrifying theater of pain. I stood there in the bright lights, my completely hairless, undersized genitals on full display, with a ridiculous catheter hanging from my pee hole.

I started to focus in on individuals in the seats. They were mostly women, but there were a few men. There were all ages, young adults through the elderly. And of course all were fully, decently dressed citizens contrasting with my forced, utter nudity. Some had brought signs. One read 'End State Torture NOW.' Another, confusing sign held by two middle aged nuns in habits read 'Turn the Other Cheek.' But others were clearly FOR my punishment. One grim older couple had a small hand-written sign that read 'Perverts Deserve Pain.' Jennifer and her two brats sat smugly in the front and center. In the second row, to my horror, were my boss Cristy and three of my more experienced female coworkers! They all made heart signs with their hands when they caught my eye. But I knew their support was disingenuous. They were here out of a perverse desire to see their naked subordinate strung up for state-sanctioned torture. I was so ashamed that these women I had worked with every day were now allowed to stare right at my completely exposed buttocks and genitalia.

In the middle of the room was a large, menacing, wooden pyramid or trestle. It was made of four stout 12x12 cm wooden beams that leaned in and were joined at the top by a short crosspiece and thick metal bolts. It stood about 3 meters tall. The front legs were about 2 meters apart. At the bottom they were bolted into permanent holes in the concrete. There were thick, worn, brown leather restraints chained to the bottom of the two front legs, more about halfway up the rear legs, and two more at the apex of the trestle. There was an 8x8 cm board across the front at about waist level that was covered in a thin, frayed, vinyl cushion. The cushion currently had what looked like a burlap bag of flour or feed strapped to it. I soon would learn that the bag was for target practice.

There were six other people waiting on the auditorium floor. One was the warden, and another was Judge Barnes, the one who had sentenced me to this nightmare, both in smart business attire. Then there were the videographer and the two medics. The sixth person was unknown to me, but I quickly realized that this was Kim, the executioner. Kim was frightening. She wore the standard black cargo uniform pants of the prison officer over her black military-style work boots. But instead of the officer's shirt, she was wearing just a thin, white, 'wife-beater'-style tank top. She was not wearing a bra, and her nipples were visible through the white tank. She was quite a specimen. She stood at least 6 cm taller than me. She was both thickly muscled, more than any woman I had ever seen, and defined. She could probably have won a female bodybuilding competition. Shoulders of a linebacker. I felt the bile come up in my throat when I realized that all of this muscle was here to inflict pain on my unprotected, bare skin. Her face and head were completely disguised by a thin, black, balaclava mask with holes for her eyes and mouth. Her right hand was wearing a fingerless leather glove. In that hand, she held a terrifying, 1.5 meter long Singapore-style punishment cane. The end held by the executioner was wrapped in stained grip tape, and the rest looked to be made of a dark, bare wood. Or maybe it was plastic or even carbon fiber. I could not tell. It was about 1.5 centimeter diameter, tapering down to less than 1 centimeter at the tip.

I was now shivering uncontrollably, partially from being utterly nude in the cool room, but mostly from extreme dread. Kim was stretching and warming up. She then stood to the left side of the trestle, about 2 meters in front of it. She moved the cane to a position behind her head, like a golfer's back swing, but held with just her right hand. She took a couple of sideways, half skips forward as she brought the cane through an insanely fast arc, colliding with the burlap sack with blindingly fierce speed. The air made a swooshing sound as it was cut by the cane. There was a retort when it hit the bag that seemed louder than was possible, and it echoed through the concrete room for several seconds. Some sort of dust was scattered, making a white cloud in the air around the bag. The audience was stunned into silence for a second or two, then let out a collective gasp. My knees completely gave out, but Carla and Mendez held me upright. Kim then removed the target bag, and nodded her readiness to begin to the warden. She took her place at ease to the side of the apparatus with her hands and the evil cane held behind her back.

I was brought to the middle of the floor of the auditorium just in front of the punishment trestle and only a couple of meters from the audience. The guards turned me to face the crowd in my full nakedness. The videographer moved all around taking video from different angles. It was all being projected live on a huge screen in the back of the stage area. They all got a clear, high def look at my brightly lit nudity. I looked down to avoid their eyes, knowing that all of these citizens, including my coworkers, had a full view of my completely hairless genitals with the shameful rubber catheter hanging out of my sad little penis, my saggy bald scrotum, my bruised nipples, and my pink scrubbed skin. There was no more hiding it; anyone in the world with an internet connection could know from the archived video that I had an extemely small phallus. I looked up briefly and caught the eye of Barbara, my attorney and childhood crush in the stands. She gave me a concerned half smile, then shook her head in sadness or disgust.

The warden then spoke. "Welcome everyone. I want to thank you all for doing your civic duty and coming out to act as witnesses for the execution of the sentence rendered against the sex offender Jason _____.

As you all know, Jason has pled guilty in a court of law to two heinous sexual crimes. In her wisdom, Judge Barnes has decided that he must suffer a most serious penalty, both as a means of achieving justice for his victims, and as a deterrence against his and other perverts' future criminal behavior. Today, as a society, we will administer eighteen full force cane strokes to the criminal's naked buttocks. This will be followed by forty full force lashes of the three tailed whip to his bare torso. Finally, as is appropriate for his crimes, the same whip will be applied five times to his sexual organs. Of course it is unusual and perhaps a bit shocking for a criminal to be brought before you in this state of total nudity, as you can see Jason is, but due to the sentence of both a caning and a genital whipping, he had to be stripped bare. The punishment was ordered to be administered in a public forum, and so we thank you again for your service in coming here. Since part of the purpose of the public punishment is to embarrass and humiliate, it is perfectly acceptable to take photographs or videos during the proceedings. We ask that you refrain from using flash, though.

In addition, I am well aware of the public controversy this sentence has caused. No matter what your feelings about this sentence, our job is to see it carried out professionally. We will not tolerate any verbal outbursts, chanting, shouting, or other interruption from the crowd. Anyone doing so will be immediately removed from the premises.

Also, I will warn you that this is going to be a severe punishment. There will be significant pain inflicted, and some blood. The convicted will more than likely scream, cry, and beg for mercy. None will be given. Some of you who are more squeamish may need to leave and that is OK.

With that, we will commence the punishment. Affix the criminal to the caning frame!"

The guards spun me around and dragged me forward a couple of steps so that I was right up against the trestle. My bare buttocks were directly facing the crowd. Mendez unlocked and removed the ankle shackles.

"Spread your legs and hold still," ordered Carla.

Since I was frozen in fear, I could not move. She grabbed my right leg and yanked it to the side, then tightly buckled on the leather restraint. Mendez did the same with my left leg. They then forced my torso forward over the padded, horizontal beam, removed the handcuffs from behind my back, and then went around to the back of the wooden structure to put the leather cuffs on my wrists. I was bent forward at slightly more than a 45° angle at the waist. My arms were fully stretched out in front of me at about shoulder width, with my hands restrained about 30 cm above the level of my head. My legs were about 80 cm apart. Carla stepped back, while Mendez stood right in front of my face. I noticed a small portable camera on the floor pointing up at my face. I could feel cool air hitting my asshole and ball sack, so I must have been giving the witnesses quite a view of my most intimate area.

The warden then slowly walked around the apparatus, inspecting their work. She stopped right behind me for about a minute, and then loudly commented, "The criminal has an abnormally long scrotum. I am afraid it will cause his testicles to be struck by the cane. Although he will receive whip strikes to the genitals in a bit, caning of his testicles is not part of the sentence. We need to restrain them somehow." The entire room was now staring at my scrotum.

One of the medics offered a solution. She opened a drawer in the crash cart, pulled out a long length of surgical tubing, and showed it to the warden, who nodded her approval. She then stepped behind me and squtted down. I could feel her wrap one end of the tubing around the base of my scrotum and tie it tightly. She then handed the other end to Mendez. Mendez stretched the tubing until it reached one of the rear vertical legs of the trestle and tied it on. This had the effect of stretching my ballsack out in front of me and out of the way of the cane. It also caused a deep aching pain in my balls as they were firmly pulled away from my body.

Kim moved to a spot behind me where I could not see her. And then I heard it: "Commence the caning. Stroke one!" shouted the warden.

About a second or two later, I heard the swooshing sound and felt the cane slam into the upper third of my buttocks. For a fraction of a second, I was more amazed by the force of the blow than the pain. But then the pain kicked in. Oh my god, the pain. It felt like a blow torch was being taken to my ass! I somehow managed to avoid screaming for this first stroke, but I threw back my head and let out a long, low grunt through my clenched teeth. My eyes bulged. I immediately started sweating profusely. The crowd murmured. Now that it was finally happening, I could hardly believe I was actually being brutally tortured by the state. It was truly surreal.

About thirty seconds later, I heard "stroke two!" The cane then came crashing home again, this time just about a centimeter above the last stroke. I again madly threw my head back in pain, grunted even more loudly, and started to shake uncontollably. It was so unfair! I started shaking my head back and forth, murmuring, "no, no, no, no..." Mendez then stepped in front of me and grabbed my head with two gloved hands to help steady me. I was hyperventilating a bit, and she said "slow, deep breaths, boy."

Just as I was starting to slow my breathing I heard "Stroke three!" No, no, no, I thought! Boom! The cane came down again, just a bit below the first stroke.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I screamed loudly for a few seconds. "God no! Please!" I uncontrollably shook my head back and forth this time, despite Mendez gripping my skull. It felt like someone was cutting the skin from me with a razor. The pain was unfathomable! All I could think about was the white hot searing pain, as the skin was peeled from my bare buttocks.

Apparently, they spaced out the strokes to give the criminal a nice long time to suffer the agony of each blow, because thirty seconds later I heard: "Stroke four!" Again the cane came smashing into my bare buttocks, and again causing the room to echo with the sound. This time I was beyond any shred of dignity. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhhhh!" I screamed like a baby and my legs started to shake violently, rattling the chains. Some drool was now dripping from my chin as I blubbered hysterically.

(Several years later, I was able to get up the nerve to watch the video. On the close up view of my buttocks, you could see the skin where the cane struck immediately turn white as the top layers of skin were destroyed, and then seconds later, hundreds of tiny pinpricks of blood would appear. Finally the entire strip would be a bright, beefy, bloody red. A few areas were actually dripping blood.)

"Stroke five!"

Before it hit me, I shouted, "Noooo! pleeeaaase!" But my scream was cut short by the evil cane once again tearing into my soul. "Owwwwww! GOD! Pleeeeeaaase!" I blubbered through the copious tears. "No more! I can't take anymore!!" Mendez held my head even tighter. The crowd started to murmur and there was talking and even a sadistic laugh, but in my blinding pain, I had no interest in what they were saying. I felt a warm drop of blood run down my left leg.

"Stroke six!"

Again, the noise of the cane and the white hot insanity. I let out a long, loud, sad wail. I then uncontrollably started to pull my arms and legs against the restraints in an instictive but obviously futile attempt to escape. Another warm drop of blood was now running down my right thigh. I heard a door open and then close as some spectator had apparently rushed out of the room.

There was a pause for a few minutes while they allowed one of the medics to listen to my heart. She then nodded to the warden. I suppose I was not close enough to dying to stop the torture. "Stroke seven!"

Wham! Right across the middle of my mangled ass. Yet again, the unrelenting and accelerating pain took over my consciousness. My bared and bloodied buttocks were quivering wildly. I shouted "Owwwwwwww! Oh my god! Please! No more!" My screams were becoming more hoarse.

"Stroke eight!" I wasn't even halfway! Boom! Another cruel cut to my bottom. This time I started a rhythmic grunting. "Uh, uh, uh, oh, oh, oh," with each exhalation. My world had become nothing but unrelenting pain.

Strokes nine through twelve moved down to the underside of my buttocks. The crashing of the cane into my bottom now sounded different as the skin and the cane were wet with my blood. By this time, I was moaning continuously. Snot was dripping from my nose and saliva from my mouth. It was just an inescapable black hole of agony and humiliation.

After the twelfth stroke, the medic again checked my heart, and then also held my head up by grabbing a handful of hair, and shined a light in each of my eyes. Some words (I don't remember what was said) were exchanged with the warden. The warden then matter-of-factly announced, "The final six strokes will be administered to the thighs, as we have run out of undamaged skin on the buttocks. Stroke thirteen!"

Boom! My primal response was a low pitched "Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggh!" while I ground my teeth together. This was worse than the buttocks, if that was possible. My legs started to uselessly churn against the restraints, as if some animal part of my brain willed me to run away. I was aware of my heavy breathing and was starting to get lightheaded. I heard someone in the crowd say "My god... please stop!"

The warden immediately shouted "No further interruptions or you will be escorted from the room! Stroke fourteen!"

Bam! "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! Please, please, please... no more." Like a child being disciplined, I blurted, "I will be good!" My voice was becoming weaker.

No mercy: "Stroke fifteen!"

Whack! My buttocks were quivering again, and my anus was spasming rapidly for the crowd. I now was moaning softly and plaintively. I remember looking into Mendez's eyes and pleading with her for help. She shook her head and looked away, but tightened her grip on my skull. The door opened and closed again as more spectators left in anger(?)... disgust(??)... nausea(???).

By now, the cane strokes were striping my legs about 7 cm below the bottom of my ass cheeks and working their way south. Everything between there and the upper part of the buttocks was a raw, bleeding mess.

"Stroke sixteen!"

Pow! Another stroke slammed home. This time I bit my lip, causing a tiny amount of blood to trickle from the corner of my mouth. I was just softly moaning and rocking rhythmically against the restraints.

My world was pain. Unrelentling, horrifying, insane pain. I was nearly unconscious now. I cannot remember the last two strokes. Mercifully, I must have passed out. I remember the ammonia sting of smelling salts in my nose, and then awakening to the white hot burning in my ass, and feeling the sweat-soaked restraints. I could hear many in the audience clapping and actually cheering. I slumped and let my head hang. Mendez was no longer there holding it. Drool and snot mixed with blood were all over my lower face. I felt someone wipe my face roughly with a wet towel, and then someone dabbing something that stung on my ass and thighs. This went on for some time.