“Order! Order! Silence in my court,” the judge’s voice boomed, as he struggled to make himself heard over the numerous people shouting in the gallery. He banged his gavel several times on the bench, the sound echoing. The noisy courtroom quietened instantly, all heads turning to face the judge. He had risen to his feet and held the small hammer aloft, ready to use it again if necessary. “I will not tolerate this insubordination,” he said, looking around with narrowed eyes as he lowered himself back into his seat. “Speak one at a time, when directed, or I’ll have each and every one of you held in contempt of court.” Shuffling his papers and clearing his throat, he cast a frustrated glance toward the young woman in the dock. The defendant was the main reason for the uproar.
Twenty-three-year-old Olivia Harris lowered her head, avoiding the judge’s piercing stare. Resting her hands on the edge of the dock, she looked toward the angry crowd who had jumped to their feet, shouting and hurling abuse at the judge when he had passed his sentence minutes earlier. Tears glinted in her hazel eyes. She was fearful of the two-day punishment clinic sentence that had just been passed, but was even more terrified by the reaction of the public. She had never felt more isolated. Glancing around the packed room, she wished that even just one of her parents or friends had come to offer their support. Blinking back tears, she looked toward the judge as he started to speak again.
“Sit down, all of you,” he said, addressing the packed gallery. Peering over the top of his glasses he watched as, one by one, the onlookers seated themselves on the benches. “Now, you first,” he said, pointing toward a tall, thin woman in the front row.
“She should be made to pay properly for what she’s done,” the angry woman shouted, rising to her feet. She pointed at the young woman, who anxiously chewed her lower lip whilst twisting her long, dark brown hair around her finger. Olivia glanced toward the judge, willing him to send her down and get her away from the baying mob. Anyone would think she had committed murder, the way they were behaving toward her.
“Two days at a punishment clinic will hardly be a walk in the park,” the judge pointed out. “She certainly won’t be shoplifting again after that, I’m sure.” The woman opened her mouth to protest, but the man beside her stood up.
“My daughter received that exact sentence for one single incident of shoplifting,” the short, bald-headed man shouted, waving his small fist in the air. He ignored the judge’s steely glare and remained standing. “She’s been charged with a whole catalogue of offences,” he said, jabbing a finger toward the defendant. “Is she getting special treatment because she’s the defence secretary’s daughter?” Not waiting for his question to be answered, the irate man continued, “If she was a mere civilian’s daughter, you’d lock her in jail and throw away the key.” Olivia watched in amazement as the fat man’s cheeks reddened and he spluttered with the exertion of his vocal protest. Slumping to his seat, he clutched at his chest and took a few deep breaths.
“Don’t be preposterous!” replied the judge. “Calm down or you’ll be giving yourself a heart attack.” The man continued to hold a hand to his chest. “And you know as well as I do, sir, that Hector Harris is no longer the defence secretary,” the judge pointed out, rolling his eyes at the man’s remark. “He paid the ultimate price for the concealment of his daughter’s crimes, which have spanned the past couple of years. Now it’s time for her to atone for those sins. Two days at the punishment clinic will give her plenty of reasons to rethink her future behaviour,” the judge said, looking at her and shaking his head in disdain. “She’ll be a very sore young lady, both inside and out, by the time they’ve finished with her.” Olivia cringed, not wanting to even try to imagine what might happen to her in such a place.
“But it isn’t anywhere near enough to cancel out what she’s done,” a freckle-faced, rotund woman shouted, rising to her feet as she glared at Olivia, who visibly squirmed. “My husband lost his small grocery store business recently, due to the likes of her thieving from him on a regular basis,” she added. “It had been in his family for many generations, but he was losing money hand over fist.” When the woman turned away, directing her anger toward the judge, Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. “You ought to make a proper example of her. Do something to show the scum of society what will happen to them if they continue with their dishonest ways. Two days’ loss of liberty is nothing compared to what my husband’s lost. In fact two days’ incarceration for each instance of shoplifting still wouldn’t be enough, in my opinion, but it would be better than what you’re proposing.”
The room erupted in cheers of agreement. Olivia shook her head, her face paling. Her crimes were so numerous, she roughly calculated that she would serve around four months if the judge agreed with the woman’s suggestion. Her eyes were wide and glassy as she stared at him, silently imploring him to show some mercy toward her.
“Put her in the stocks,” another man shouted, standing up and turning his anger directly toward Olivia. “Strip her naked and let those she’s wronged mete out their own punishment to her bare backside. I’d personally give her a sound strapping for stealing from my store.” Olivia’s eyes widened further, as she imagined the damage he could inflict on her with such an implement. The tall, muscular, shaven-headed man’s biceps bulged as he raised his arm, before bringing it down in a whipping motion. Olivia shuddered.
The judge’s gavel banged again, as several people in the gallery stood up or raised their hands, wanting to be heard. “Order in court. I’ve listened to your objections. Granted, I haven’t heard what every single one of you has to say, but I’m fairly certain you all have similar stories to tell. Bearing this in mind, I’m going to give you what you want.” He looked at Olivia, who swallowed hard and gripped the railing in front of her.
“Your crimes have affected the livelihoods of many, including your own father. He told me earlier today that he’s so ashamed of you, he can’t bring himself to be here today.” She bowed her head, knowing that was one of the reasons he had chosen not to attend; the other being that the taxpayers would probably lynch him for the way he had abused his position.
The judge continued to address her. “You’re sadly lacking in discipline, young lady, and the sentence I now propose will certainly remedy that.” Olivia chewed her lip as she watched him intently. “Miss Olivia Jane Harris, I hereby sentence you to three months in a rehabilitation clinic. You will be thoroughly punished on a daily basis. This will hopefully teach you some morals and bring you to your senses.” Gasping, she shook her head and continued to stare blankly at him. “No, please, not that…”
“May I offer an alternative solution, Your Honour?” The loud voice boomed from the back of the courtroom. All heads turned to look at the man who rose to his feet and stepped into the aisle. The gallery suddenly fell silent as the judge nodded and waved him forward. “Of course, General Judd, I’d be interested to hear what you would propose.”
The tall, muscular man strode forward. Olivia recognised him immediately as the new defence secretary, who had taken over her father’s position. Holding her breath, she held his gaze as he paused briefly, his piercing blue eyes locked on hers. His lips curved into a barely noticeable smile and he winked at her before approaching the judge.
“Thank you, Your Honour,” he said, nodding his head toward the judge. “My solution will ensure the girl is punished as she deserves, but will also seek to rehabilitate and reform her. There will be no danger of her ever returning before you as I’m offering a long-term—I suppose you could even say permanent—solution to this problem.”
“Go ahead, I’m listening,” the judge said, sitting upright. Olivia watched, fascinated, as the powerful man seemed to exude authority from every pore. She listened intently as General Judd’s booming voice carried effortlessly, allowing everyone to hear his plan for her. “I would like to personally ensure that her behaviour is corrected, most thoroughly,” he said, turning to address the whole room. Olivia’s cheeks flushed pink as she imagined herself across his lap.
“I would like to take her hand in marriage, if she is agreeable,” he said, glancing toward her. A smile curved Olivia’s lips and she nodded eagerly. She was keen to avoid a long spell in a rehabilitation clinic. She would take her chances in a pit full of snakes if that was the only alternative to a custodial sentence. But marrying the devastatingly handsome general did not seem an unattractive proposition at all.
“Don’t be so eager,” he said, turning to face her. “I want to make the implications of this option crystal clear. The government has recently set up a unique facility called the Naughty Bride Clinic. If you accept my proposal, you will spend a number of days there, before returning home with me. Although this course of action will mean you avoid spending a lengthy period of time in a rehabilitation clinic, as I’ve said you will still need to be punished for your crimes. That must be done in a way that will satisfy the public, in particular those whom your actions have affected the most.” The crowd, who had uttered not a single word since the general stepped forward, suddenly roared their approval.
Waiting for them to quieten down, General Judd continued. “You will need to be trained in obedience and submission, so that you can be a proper wife to a man of my stature. If you behave properly and serve me well, you will find that I can be a very generous partner. If you let me down, I’ll light an instant fire in your behind. Do you understand?”
Olivia nodded. She opened her mouth to speak but was incapable of formulating any words. She seemed to have been temporarily struck dumb. A million thoughts seemed to swirl around in her head, from fear of the unknown to arousal at the prospect of marrying such a gorgeous, self-assured man. Instead of voicing any of her jumbled thoughts, she simply shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, I’ll marry you.”
“Very well, it seems we have a proposition that is acceptable to all,” the judge said, banging his gavel once, before laying it down on the bench and rising to his feet. “Court adjourned.” Stepping down from the bench, he offered his hand to General Judd. “Thank you. I wish there were more men like you around, willing to step in and reform these over-pampered, spoiled brats,” he said, shaking the general’s hand firmly. “And congratulations on your new role. I think you’ll be the perfect man for the job.”
Olivia scowled at the pair.
“You might soon wish I’d sent you to the rehabilitation clinic. Let’s get things in motion. I have a very busy day ahead of me. If you’d both like to follow me.” Muttering under his breath, he led the way out of the courtroom.
The next couple of hours passed in a whirl for Olivia. The court clerk completed the paperwork before the judge and General Judd and Olivia all signed their agreement to the sentence. They were then led into the register office next door to the courts, where a government official conducted the very brief marriage ceremony.
Olivia had always dreamed of having a big white wedding with all the frills. She was bitterly disappointed to find herself tying the knot wearing faded, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, teamed up with neon green trainers. There were no family or friends to observe her nuptials, the only others present being the judge and his court clerk who were there simply to act as witnesses and to ensure the ceremony took place.
“I’ve called a press conference for three p.m. so we need to get ourselves over to the defence ministry now,” General Judd said to Olivia, as they stood side by side to sign the register. “We should get there just about on time.” With a hand on the small of her back, he guided her out of the building to his waiting limousine. Opening the door, he helped her inside. She looked out of the window and sighed. There would be no big wedding reception for their family and friends to go to, of that she was sure.
They travelled in silence, her mind in a complete whirl. She kept blinking, hoping to wake up from a terrible dream. It had seemed a good idea at first. Sitting in the car beside him, having no idea what lay ahead, she was starting to have major doubts. She looked toward the general, hoping he might ease her worries, but he stared straight ahead.
Ten minutes later they arrived at the rear of the defence ministry and the car door was opened. Olivia got out of the car and was immediately led into the building by the general. “Your record is now clear,” he told her, leading the way through the building. “I intend for it to stay that way.”
“Thank you,” she replied, having to walk fast to keep up with his long strides. “I promise you, it will.”
“It had better, because heaven help your backside if you decide to challenge me over this. And don’t be too quick to thank me,” he said, stopping when they reached a large set of wooden double doors. “Everything in life has a price. You’re about to find out what this favour is going to cost you.”
Olivia nodded. “Whatever the price, it has to be better than spending three months in a rehabilitation clinic,” she said, smiling up at him.
Grasping her elbow, he stared at her for a moment, his eyebrows raised. Letting out a small laugh, he shook his head. “Oh, you have no idea what you’ve let yourself in for, little girl.”
She opened her mouth to reply but he turned away. Reaching for the door with his other hand, he pulled it open and led her outside. Letting out a sharp intake of breath, she stopped and looked out at the assembled crowd. At least a hundred members of the press, with cameras and microphones, stood behind metal barriers at the foot of the steps.
“Don’t you dare show me up by being disobedient,” he said, whispering the words into her ear as he leaned close. She swallowed and licked her lips, her mouth as dry as sandpaper. Her legs felt like lead as he pulled her toward the lectern. “Stand there,” he said, pointing to his left, “and don’t move. If you’re foolish enough to try to get away, you’ll only make this situation even worse for yourself.” She nodded dumbly as he stepped up to the microphone, picked up some papers, and began to shuffle through them.
Olivia fidgeted uncomfortably, looking at her hands and noticing he had not given her a wedding ring. She wondered why and planned to ask him later. She also noticed the registrar had not invited him to kiss his bride, nor had the general made any attempt to do that, though now was certainly not the time to point that out to him either. She watched him, his brow furrowed as he scanned his eyes over the papers. Her gaze settled on his full lips and she wondered how it would feel to kiss them. Shuddering, she turned her attention away from him.
Glancing over her shoulder, she focused her attention on the building they had just exited. Screwing up her nose, she brought to mind all the grand, ornate government buildings across the world and wondered who on earth had designed this dull grey shell. Turning back, she looked out at the assembled gathering but could not hold the gaze of anyone. She instead focused her attention on her bitten-down fingernails, which she examined closely. She recalled his warning and wondered how anything could possibly be worse than the humiliation of being paraded in front of the press in such a manner.
She felt relief when the general finally spoke, as it gave her something to focus on other than her own discomfort. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending in such large numbers and at such short notice. I appreciate that the public has agreed to this course of action, which gives my new wife—Olivia Judd—the opportunity to atone for her sins whilst still keeping her liberty.” Olivia’s mouth fell open and her eyes went wide. It sounded strange to hear herself referred to as someone’s wife. And she had not even considered her new name. She still thought of herself as Olivia Jane Harris, the only child of Hector and Mary.
“My role of defence secretary requires me to safeguard the UK and its people. Sometimes though, the threat to our society does not come from foreign enemies but from our own, for want of a better phrase, home-grown criminals.” He glanced at Olivia as he spoke and she lowered her eyes.
“Now I can’t deal with every single petty criminal on our streets, and although our justice system is attempting to clean up the city of London and the country as a whole, this is proving to be a monumental task. I suggest to you all that dealing with crime begins in the home.” Olivia was startled when the assembled media shouted their agreement. She looked to General Judd, who stared straight ahead, patiently waiting for the boisterous crowd to settle down.
When he once more had silence, the general continued. “This morning I decided to do my part to help with our clean-up of society. I took this naughty young woman as my bride.” There were more cheers of approval, but Olivia did not feel comforted by the gesture. She knew the evident delight of the assembled throng had nothing to do with the general’s choice of bride, but rather the fact that his main aim was to punish her for her foolish behaviour. The worst thing was she had no reason to have ever ended up in court. She did not even need to go out shoplifting. It was just something she did, to pass the time and to amuse herself.
The general again waited for the crowd to fall silent before continuing. “The prime minister has officially pardoned Olivia of her multiple crimes. In return for this most generous gesture, I will see to the initial stage of my new bride’s correction personally.” He again turned toward her. “That redress will begin right now. And naturally, I invite you all to stay and record proceedings. Thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen.”
The crowd erupted in spontaneous applause as he moved toward Olivia, grasped her by the wrist, and walked her down the half a dozen steps. They were now within touching distance of the media, only separated by the barrier. Olivia frowned in confusion, wondering what was happening. She looked to him, terror reflected in her eyes, but he did nothing to allay her fears. She replayed his words in her head and wondered what he meant by initial stage of her correction. How many stages would there be? Would he personally deal with them all? She remembered mention of a Naughty Bride Clinic and colour rose to her cheeks.
One of the general’s aides stepped forward and placed a straight-backed chair beside him. Keeping hold of her wrist, General Judd sat down and pulled her to his right-hand side. She looked at him, her brow wrinkling. She had expected to be spanked by him, but she had assumed this would happen in private. Surely he did not intend to do it now, in front of everyone. Her heartbeat suddenly quickened.
Releasing her wrist, he took hold of her pants and unfastened the top button, before yanking the zip down. “No, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, slapping a hand over his. She suddenly felt nauseous, her heart hammering against her chest.
The general sighed and glared up at her. “Were you not listening to a word I said up there?” He gestured with his head toward the top of the steps, from where he had addressed the press. She nodded.
“Well then, if you were paying attention you’ll have heard me tell the nation that I’m going to personally correct your bad behaviour,” he said, “so this should come as no surprise. Now put your hands down at your sides and keep them there.” He barked the order and a pale-faced Olivia obeyed. “And keep a civil tongue,” he added, frowning at her, “or I’ll wash your disrespectful mouth out with soap.” Olivia bit down anxiously on her lower lip. She wasn’t used to being scolded.
“That’s better,” he said, when she stood still, arms at her sides. Grasping her jeans, he tugged them firmly down to her knees. When the cool air brushed against her bare thighs, Olivia was mortified and automatically bent forward. Reaching for her clothing, she tried to prevent him taking them all the way down, but a sharp swat of his hand to her behind had her rising back to an upright position. She touched a hand to her stinging rear end, pouted and caressed where he had struck her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her hands trembling as tears pricked her eyes. “You’re embarrassing me. At least take me inside, away from all of this,” she said, indicating the eager crowd.
“You think you’re humiliated now? Things are about to get a lot worse, little girl,” he said, taking a firm grip on the waistband of her panties. “No,” she shrieked, putting her hands over his. “Yes,” he replied, his eyes locked on hers as he yanked the black lace underwear down to mid-thigh.
Olivia whimpered and tried to back away, but he caught her wrist. “And as for what I’m doing, young lady, I’m going to give you a sound spanking on your bare bottom. This is what happens to naughty little girls. I can see it’s well deserved and very long overdue.” Her response was a shriek of horror as she desperately fought against him and tried to break free. “Please take me inside,” she begged, as she renewed her efforts to escape. But he was way too strong for her and he easily hauled her forward, tumbling her across his lap.
“No,” she yelled, kicking frantically when she was pinned in position, his arm wrapped around her waist. He simply held her in place as she kicked for all she was worth. During her struggles her jeans and panties worked their way down to her ankles. “Get rid of them,” he said. Instantly, she felt her lower clothing being pulled over her feet. “No,” she shouted, turning her head to glare at the aide who whipped her jeans and panties away. She continued to kick and squirm, desperate to get up and retrieve her clothing.
“Settle down this instant,” the general ordered, slapping her thigh hard. Olivia wailed in despair. “You brought this on yourself, young lady. Now, let’s give the public what they want,” he said, slapping each buttock hard. She winced and gritted her teeth. “And don’t forget to smile for the cameras,” he said. Glancing up, she saw the numerous cameras pointing at her. She immediately lowered her head and closed her eyes, praying that her ordeal would soon be over.
Heavy smacks started to pepper her bare bottom, the intensity of the sting taking her by surprise. Her distress mounting, she let out a few whimpers of pain. Balling her hands into fists, she gritted her teeth and vowed not to cry. She saw numerous camera flashes and the lights indicating the TV cameras were recording her humiliation. Having no intention of making a spectacle of herself, she continued to grind her teeth. The only sounds indicating her distress were occasional grunts as his heavy hand found unmarked flesh. Each hard smack increased the burning sensation spreading across her rear end.
Olivia’s struggles grew as the general showed no signs of tiring, his hand seemingly lighting a fire in her behind. He kept up a steady rhythm, slapping one cheek and then the other. The weighty swats became harder, flattening her buttocks on impact. “This is what happens to naughty little girls,” he told her, landing a stinging swat to her right sit spot. She yelped in pain, throwing her head back and wailing when he repeated the treatment to the other side. When he continued to strike the tender flesh at the base of each buttock, Olivia could no longer keep silent. “Please, stop, no more, it hurts…” Her cries were heartfelt and she reached back, attempting to shield her bottom with her hand. She was devastated when he grasped her wrist, pinned it against her back, and continued.
Her protests became more vocal as he upped the tempo, but she breathed a sigh of relief when his hand finally stilled. She took a few steadying breaths, preparing herself to rise from her humiliating position. But instead of releasing her, he shuffled her forward over his lap and tightened his grip around her waist. After feeling a few gentle pats to her backside, Olivia was dismayed when her spanking resumed. Wailing, she fought for all she was worth as his solid spanks began to sting her upper thighs as well as her bottom. The previous side to side rhythm which she had grown used to, allowing her to anticipate where the next spank would land, was gone. He now covered her backside and upper thighs with stinging swats, but there was no longer method in his task. Sometimes six smacks would land on one buttock slowly, followed by a rapid fire dozen or more, randomly meted out over her bottom and thighs.
“You’re lucky I don’t have a hairbrush to hand,” he told her. “A nice round dozen to each of these little red bottom cheeks would finish your first spanking off nicely.” She shuddered at the thought. His hand alone was hard enough. He then startled her by clapping his hand down hard against her pussy, her widespread thighs giving him easy access. She howled in embarrassment and pain, before clamping her legs shut, horrified that she had been exposing herself so shamefully to the watching cameras. Despite the intense burning sensation, however, she was oddly aroused. “Please, I’ve had enough,” she said, turning her head and looking up at him while his hand gently caressed her tender thighs.
His face was calm and his blue eyes twinkled as he gazed back at her. She was overcome with a sudden desire to get up and straddle him, then ride him hard until they both reached the dizzying heights of orgasm. Her cheeks turned pink as she envisioned such an act. That would give the cameras something to record.
“I’ll say when you’ve had enough,” he said, landing a hard swat at the centre of her backside. She let out a groan, but her reaction no longer had anything to do with the pain. He smacked her again, the force driving her hips forward. She ground her hips against his thigh, her eyes widening as her breath came in short gasps. “But I have to say that, at this moment in time, I agree with you that we should stop,” he said, slapping each thigh sharply. “That’s enough, for now at least. Stand up.”
Olivia swallowed nervously, staying in position when he released his hold on her. She was feeling a little shaky and too humiliated to face her audience. “Up you get or I’ll find a hairbrush and we’ll continue,” he said. Her eyes went wide and she stiffened. Letting out a deep sigh, he gripped her arms and guided her up onto her feet. She stood on trembling legs, lowering her head in shame as the cameras continued to flash.
“Raise your head,” one of the cameramen called out. “Look this way,” shouted another.
“Do as you’re told. Lift your head up, now,” General Judd told her. She looked up, her eyes pleading with him to end her humiliation. She had surely paid the price now. “Give the public what they want. They gave you a chance. You owe them.” Sighing deeply, Olivia pulled her shoulders back, raised her head and stared straight ahead. She tried to blank out the crowd and not make eye contact with any of them. When she did focus on the faces of the press, she saw only humour and smugness, not a hint of sympathy for her. She blinked back tears of embarrassment and anger as the cameras continued to flash.
“How do you feel now?” shouted a female reporter. Olivia glanced toward the smirking brunette and sighed. “Don’t be rude, answer the lady’s question,” scolded General Judd, swatting her stinging backside. “Ow, I’m sore,” she snapped, directing her angry response toward the general rather than the smug reporter.
“And so you should be,” he said, before turning his attention back to the media. “I’d like to thank you all for coming today. I trust this little taste of what my young wife has to come will satisfy those she has wronged.”
A blushing Olivia was grateful when he turned her away from the crowd. The cameras continued to click, snapping photos of her bright red, bare bottom. She tried to tug her short t-shirt down, but her attempts at covering herself were in vain. She consoled herself with the fact they could no longer see her face.
“Touch your toes, Olivia,” shouted one photographer. She glanced at the general, who nodded his head. Huffing out a breath, she bent forward, stretching her fingers toward her toes. She closed her eyes as the cameras continued to click. “Part your legs a bit, let us see your face looking back at us, between your legs,” called another. Frowning, she looked to the general, frustrated when he again nodded. Her cheeks reddened as she moved her legs apart and looked between her knees toward the press. They all appeared to be upside down, but there was nothing amusing about her position. Her humiliation escalated as the cameras continued to flash.
“You can stand up now,” the general told her, guiding her back in front of the media. She lowered her head as he continued to address them.
“A new facility has been opened recently, which has been developed to help in our fight against crime. The Naughty Bride Clinic is run by a team of highly skilled professionals. They will assist husbands in training their spouses to be obedient and submissive. This service will be available to help any men who are having trouble controlling their partners, as well as newlyweds like ourselves. We hope this will lessen the workload of the punishment clinics, rehabilitation centres, and similar establishments, which are currently full to capacity.”
“General Judd,” shouted the female reporter who had already posed one question to Olivia. She tucked her poker-straight, long dark hair behind her ear, whilst flashing her perfect white teeth at him. Olivia instantly hated her. “I’m Angela Ward, reporter for Channel Four’s Deliciously Dirty Documentaries, affectionately known as ‘triple D.’” Other reporters around her sniggered, many eyes resting on her ample ‘triple D’ breasts, seemingly crushed into the tight white t-shirt she was wearing. Ignoring them, she continued. “May I request that my cameraman and I be permitted to join you both at the clinic? I believe the public have a right to see further how this thief is dealt with. It would also be interesting to see what our taxes are being used for in such facilities.”
“No,” shouted Olivia, glaring at her. She recognised Angela and her devastatingly handsome husband Brandon from the many kinky documentaries they had made. They got themselves into some bizarre situations, but it made for great viewing. Olivia might have been a fan of their shows, but she had no desire to have them present at the clinic. She looked back to the general and was shocked to see him smiling and nodding. “I think that’s a fantastic idea. After all, the public have agreed to this course of action to save my wife from a much lengthier sentence elsewhere. The least she can do is allow them to see how thoroughly she is punished. This will assist others in deciding whether this facility might help any naughty brides that they’re acquainted with. Speak to my aide; he’ll give you the details. We’ll see you both there tomorrow morning.”
General Judd then waved away the numerous protests from other reporters, who were suddenly keen to take Angela and Brandon’s place. “Surely you should give this news item to one of the more serious news channels,” a tall woman, rocking on stiletto heels, her bright pink hair sticking out in all directions and her thick makeup seemingly caked on with a trowel, called out. The general raised his eyebrows, looking her up and down. He seemed to be struck dumb for a moment. His expression suddenly relaxed and he responded to her. “If one of the more serious news channels had asked first, they would have got the story. You snooze, you lose,” he said, earning a few laughs as he dismissed the woman. She pursed her bright red lips and glared at him through her thick-rimmed turquoise glasses.
Shaking her head, Olivia scowled at General Judd. “I can’t believe you’ve agreed to her being there,” she said, spitting the words out as she flashed a dirty look at Angela. “It’ll be humiliating enough, without dragging those two along for the ride.”
“It could’ve been worse, you could have had ‘Mrs. High and Mighty’ there,” he said, indicating the angry pink-haired woman, marching away. Unfortunately, she made a hash of her exit when she tumbled to the ground, snapping her high heel in the process. Standing up, she angrily snatched up the shoe, yanked off the other and tossed them aside, before tentatively walking away barefoot. Her cameraman apologised to those around them, before picking up her shoes and trotting along after her.
Turning back to Olivia, General Judd continued, “And you’d do well to watch your tongue, young lady. Isn’t your bottom sore enough already?” She frowned in response. “And if I want to invite the entire media of London along to watch you receive what you’re due, that’s up to me. I don’t expect any back chat from you.” Olivia’s cheeks flushed scarlet and she bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“I trust this course of action will satisfy the public. I think it’s fair to assume that everyone will believe justice has been served, or at least it soon will have been,” the general said, waving his hand in dismissal to the media. Olivia was impressed when everyone packed up and left immediately at his signal.
“Right, let’s get you home and settled in. We won’t attend the Naughty Bride Clinic until the morning, so you’ll spend tonight in your new home.”
Placing a hand at the base of her spine, General Judd guided her toward his limousine, which had just pulled up a short distance away from them.
“General, my clothes,” she said, turning to point toward her jeans and panties that lay beside the chair. She shuddered, recalling her spanking, and placed one hand on her crotch and the other on her still burning bottom.
“Just leave them there, you won’t be needing them,” he said, leading her to his car. “Get in,” he instructed, when his driver opened the back door. Looking over her shoulder, Olivia saw the general’s grey-haired aide, dressed in a dull grey suit. He collected the chair and her clothing, before walking up the steps and disappearing into the equally dull grey building.
“Come along,” General Judd said, “we don’t have all day.” He hurried Olivia along with a sharp swat to her butt. Scowling and shielding her ass with one hand, she climbed into the spacious rear of the vehicle, wincing and leaning sideways to prevent her sore cheeks from pressing against the cold leather seat.
The general closed the door, walked around to the other side of the vehicle, and got in beside her. His driver got into the front seat and started the engine. “Lie across my lap,” General Judd told her, taking Olivia’s hand and pulling her toward him.
“Oh, please, haven’t I had enough?” she said, looking in horror toward the front of the vehicle. Although they were separated from the driver by a glass screen, he would still be able to see and hear. “Please, General Judd…”
“When we’re out in public, I expect you to address me as ‘sir.’ However, when we’re alone you can call me Ethan,” he said. “After all, I am your husband.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, frowning and correcting herself quickly. “I mean thank you, Ethan.” Glancing toward the driver, she wondered if this was classed as being out in public. “Err, thank you, sir?” She anxiously chewed on her lower lip.
“This is a private situation, so Ethan is fine,” he said, smiling at her. “But wherever we are, under whatever circumstances, I expect you to address me respectfully and obey my commands without question.” His smile disappeared and his eyebrows rose as he regarded her sternly. “I won’t tell you again to bend over my lap. If I have to put you there, you’ll regret it, young lady.”
“Sorry, sir,” she mumbled, gazing at his firm thighs and letting out a deep sigh, before draping herself submissively across them. She glanced toward the screen, pleased to see the driver’s eyes were focused on the road ahead. Raising her head, she looked out of the side window, horrified to see pedestrians waiting to cross the road. Struggling to get up, she pointed toward the reason for her alarm.
“The windows are tinted,” he explained, holding her in position and resting a hand against her bottom. “No one can see you, apart from me.” She let out a sigh of relief. “But remember, whether we’re in public or private, I expect you to do as you’re told.” She nodded her agreement, tensing her buttocks as his hand continued to caress her. “If I ever need to give you a public spanking again, I’ll have no hesitation in doing it, no matter where we are.” Her cheeks flushed and she vowed to be on her best behaviour in all public situations.
“Let’s see what we’ve got in here,” he said, reaching down into the door pocket. Gnawing on her lower lip, she recalled his threat to give her a hairbrush spanking. She prayed that was not what he had in mind. Her worries were unfounded as seconds later she heard a click, glanced over her shoulder, and saw he had flipped the lid open on a bottle of lotion. He proceeded to squirt the contents over her scorched ass cheeks. She sighed with pleasure as he rubbed the cooling lotion into her cheeks, bringing instant relief. He kneaded her twin globes, moving down between her legs, where his finger trailed over her pussy. “You’re soaking wet,” he pointed out.
“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just that this feels so nice,” she told him, hoping he had not noticed her arousal whilst he was spanking her. She recalled the cameras focused on her during her chastisement and hoped none of them had picked up on her excited state. She knew they would have been able to see her pussy, both during her spanking and afterwards, when she was forced to display herself to them. Maybe I wasn’t really that wet at that point, she hoped, but she knew deep down that she had been as soaked as she was currently. Her cheeks flushed as she realised that the whole country would have been aware of her arousal as her husband had spanked her soundly.
Whilst Olivia made purring sounds and squirmed across Ethan’s lap, he continued to massage her butt, rubbing copious amounts of soothing lotion into the tender flesh. She smiled when she felt a bulge in his pants pressing into her. Her smile widened when his hand moved lower. She parted her legs, giving his fingers access. When they trailed down her wet slit, she purred with pleasure. She was startled when he pinched her clit, making her flinch, before slipping a finger into her pussy.
“Whilst the goings-on at the Naughty Bride Clinic will leave you blushing with shame, I can tell by your reaction to me spanking your bottom that some parts of it will be very pleasurable for you as well. That isn’t a problem for me. Pleasure and pain are so hard to separate at times, but despite your arousal you will know when you’re being punished,” he told her, pressing a finger against her anus.
“No, not there,” she said, bucking her hips in her desperation to shake his hand off. She was horrified that he would want to put his finger in such a place.
“You’re my wife,” he replied. “I’ll touch you wherever I want.” She gasped as he pushed his finger into her anus, just up to the first knuckle. “Your little bottom hole will be punished whilst you’re at the clinic,” he said, rotating the tip of his finger inside her tight hole. She groaned with a mixture of arousal and apprehension.
“You will submit to whatever punishment is necessary,” he said, leaving his finger in her ass while his other hand returned to her pussy. Stroking her wetness, he rolled her clit between his finger and thumb. “You will quickly learn that if you try to resist, you’ll only make that part of the punishment even harder on yourself. Remember that and it might make things easier for you.” While he spoke, his finger pressed deeper into her anus. “Have you ever been touched here before?” he asked.
She shook her head and whimpered. “No, never. And I don’t like it. Please, I’m begging you, please stop. It’s too awful for words.”
“Really? That’s not the message your pussy is giving me,” he said, slipping two fingers into her wetness before enthusiastically pumping them in and out of her. She groaned, raising her hips as the finger in her anus continued to rotate whilst pressing deeper.
“It might be determined that you need an enema,” he told her, laughing when she gasped loudly. Looking over her shoulder at him, her expression was one of utter horror. “The doctor might decide a full rectal examination is in order. You’d need to be scrupulously clean for that. So if, for example, he attempts to administer a small Fleet enema and you fight him, you will only make things worse. To teach you a lesson, he may then fill a large bag with hot soapy water and pump it into you, until you can’t hold any more. Picture yourself with a hose in your cute little bottom, warm liquid flooding into you; you’d be desperate to go to the toilet but would have to wait until the doctor gave you permission. And all the time, Angela and Brandon would be filming you.”
Olivia listened in shocked silence, her fate becoming increasingly worse. But at the same time, she was confused by the arousal she felt as his finger probed her anus. Groaning, she writhed around on his lap.
“Oh, I can see you’re going to be a hard one to tame. It seems that everything arouses you,” he scolded, slipping his finger out of her tight hole and giving her butt a hard slap. “But I’ve got some more unfortunate news for you.” Olivia frowned, wondering how much worse things could get. “Bad girls who’ve been spanked don’t get to come, so you can stop rubbing yourself up against me right now, young lady.” Her cheeks flushed, embarrassed he had realised what she was doing. He smacked her other cheek before continuing to touch her pussy, stroking her until she thought she was going to come all over his hand. But suddenly he stopped touching her. “Get up, we’re home,” he said, giving her ass another slap.
Huffing out a breath, she pushed herself up and scowled at him. “You’re so mean,” she snapped, putting one hand over her pussy and glaring at the grinning driver, who held the door open for her.
Ethan swatted her butt. “Stop complaining, naughty girl.” Yelping, Olivia scowled at him before flashing a filthy look at the clearly amused driver. She was pleased when the chauffeur stopped smirking at her, got back into the car, and drove it round to the side of the large detached house, which was set in its own walled grounds.
Leading her to the front door, General Judd pulled her hand away from her mound. He then closed his large hand around her much smaller one. “Mind your manners or I’ll show you just how mean I can be. And stop covering yourself up. Being exposed and on display is part of your punishment. If you try to cover up again, I’ll remove the rest of your clothing.” She grunted in response, her other arm hanging loosely at her side as he clutched her hand tightly.
“I don’t think I’m going to like being married to you,” she complained, pouting her lower lip out.
Leaning forward, he playfully pinched her protruding lip between his teeth, making her gasp. “That’s a real shame, Mrs. Judd, because I’m really looking forward to being married to you.”