Tales of the CPA - Bare Bottomed Barrister
Annette exited the lift and walked toward the doors of her law firm. She was in her mid-twenties, small and slender, with long dark hair tied up in a bun. Bright blue eyes adorned her pretty face, and while she wore minimal make-up it was carefully applied to make the most of her natural beauty while still maintaining a professional appearance.
The large double-doors were mostly glass, framed in antique oak, and proudly bore the company logo - "The Quill and Cane". A few years back it had been "Johnson and Nagin" - but much had changed since the passing of the Corporal Punishment Act, and the new name reflected this.
The 'Quill' was supposed to represent the scholastic qualifications of the lawyers who worked there - all of whom had graduated law school with honors. The 'Cane' was a grim reminder of her terms of employment - her lovely young ass would pay the price for every mistake. The senior partners were old, male, and lecherous - and they had been quick to take advantage of the social changes that had followed the Corporal Punishment Act. All female employees were forced to sign a spanking contract, which meant that their delicate posteriors would be whipped for any and every mistake. The company advertising proudly advertised this fact and emphasised that it ensured the maximum effort and diligence from the women who worked under constant threat of corporal punishment.
This blatantly chauvinistic policy had proven both marketable and effective. With their asses quite literally on the line, the women applied themselves earnestly to their duties - and as a result had become so proficient that the male lawyers had been laid off in a matter of months. The firm swiftly changed to a strict "women only" hiring policy - which had been lauded by the feminist brigade who saw this as female empowerment. The fact that this so-called 'empowerment' involved presenting their bare bottoms to be spanked was ignored - as long as women were the preferred hiring choice, the grizzled old hags of third-wave feminism were content to ignore the sacrifices made by the young ladies who had to submit to what was unquestionably a sexist regime.
Annette pushed open the doors and made her way to the cloakroom. It was here that she had to officially surrender her dignity by taking off her overcoat. With the familiar feeling of resignation, she slipped it off her shoulders and hung it on her assigned hook.
Without the overcoat she was now "dressed for success" - meaning a smart business shirt and jacket - both of which ended just above her waist. Below that she had the uniform skirt - a carefully tailored garment that had a heart-shaped opening at the back, leaving her well-toned young behind completely exposed. Wearing panties was strictly forbidden by her contract, so her bottom was on full display as she entered the office. She felt the familiar cold chill of the air-conditioned office on her bare buttocks as she walked through reception.
Earning her place at the firm had not been easy. Only graduates with the highest marks were considered. To further narrow the field, all applicants had to submit a portfolio of nude photographs along with their resume. If they met the extremely high standards of the senior partners (in both academic achievement and beauty,) they were offered an interview - and that was where the real test began. No sooner had Annette walked into the office than she was ordered to 'assume the position' and remain there for the duration. A stinging six strokes of the cane had been administered immediately - with many more to come.
She had been relentlessly interrogated for nearly an hour. She was quizzed about obscure points of law, geography, random trivia, her sex life - all asked ad hoc, with no logical connection between one question and the next. Any answer that was wrong or considered too slow was met by an additional stroke. It had been made clear to her that failing to hold position would be an immediate fail, and Annette had sweated and sobbed throughout, fingernails biting into her skin as she struggled to keep herself in place.
"The courtroom is a rough place," she was told. "We expect our lawyers to be exceptional in all areas, knowledgable, quick-thinking, and to have a high pain tolerance. You will be taking swats frequently and we will not tolerate anyone who fails to uphold the reputation of this firm. We only hire the very best."
By the time the ordeal was over Annette was a total wreck, no longer sure of anything. It had been an agonising wait (both physically and mentally) before getting the reply she had hoped for - she was now a junior member of The Quill and Cane. But that didn't mean she could relax. She was held to the highest professional standard, and her open-backed skirt was a constant reminder that she could expect swift retribution for any error. Every woman on the staff wore the same uniform, and with the cane in constant use there was always at least a couple of striped bottoms on display in the office.
Today was no exception. No sooner had she entered than Annette could hear the *CRACK!* of thin rattan on soft flesh. She tried to ignore the sound as she collected her papers and waited to be called into the office. A few minutes later the door to the inner sanctum opened and a distressed young woman came strutting out, her eyes watering. Annette didn't bother to express any sympathy. CP was part of professional life, they had all signed contracts allowing the senior partners to chastise them.
"Good morning Annette."
David Johnson was standing at the door, cane still in hand. He was a tall, thin man with white hair and a wrinkled face - but despite his age he could still administer a severe whipping to any girl who failed in her duties. "Come in please."
"Good morning sir." Annette followed him into the office. The other senior partner was seated in his leather-upholstered armchair. "Morning Annette," he nodded.
Alexander Nagin was short and wide, his face swollen and eyes bloodshot from excessive drinking. He waved a pudgy hand at the spare seat. "Do sit down."
"Thank you sir." Annette took her place. David closed the door and resumed his own position behind the antique mahogany desk. As usual he got straight down to business.
"Are you ready for court today?" he enquired.
"Ready as I can be sir."
David raised an eyebrow. "As ready as you can be? That does not inspire confidence."
"With respect sir," Annette met his gaze coolly. "Boris Karloff crashed his Rolls into a parked car at fifty miles an hour, in a thirty zone, while over three times the blood-alcohol limit. The prosecution has witness statements, video evidence, and blood samples that show he was staggering drunk. The only possible way I can win this is to show a procedural error by the police, and their chain of evidence is unbroken. Boris came to us with a losing case and he wants us to work a miracle. They don't always happen." (She refrained from pointing out that Karloff was a multi-millionaire with his own chauffeur and that getting behind the wheel after an evening of cocktails was an absolutely retarded thing to do.)
David pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "Fair point," he acknowledged. "But Boris is an important client. We must make every possible effort." (By "we" he of course meant Annette.)
"You must object to everything." Alexander wheezed. "Leave no stone unturned. Push the prosecution on every point."
Annette had expected this, but she still felt the familiar sinking of her stomach. "Of course sir," she replied. "I will raise every objection I can." She hoped that her feelings didn't show on her face. She was well aware of what following his orders would involve.
"This case may not be winnable," David conceded graciously. "But the reputation of this firm is just as much on trial as Boris. I trust that you will give it your best effort. The Quill and Cane has a reputation to uphold."
"I won't let you down sir," Annette said. "Win or lose, I promise that you will be proud of me today."
"Excellent!" David nodded his head to indicate that the briefing was over. Annette rose and left the office, both men staring intently at her round white bottom as she departed.
Later, In court...
Annette sat next to Boris Karloff, waiting for the trial to start. He was in his fifties, of medium height and solid build, traces of white in his black hair. A thick moustache and eyebrows gave him a stern appearance, but Annette had always found him to be quite personable. While he made no effort to hide his blatant ogling of her bare backside, he certainly wasn't the worst client she had dealt with.
Normally a drink-driving charge would be a summary offense, heard by a magistrate, but since Boris had been speeding and driving recklessly the prosecution had upgraded to "criminal negligence" - which meant a jury trial. This was both good and bad news. Good because juries were more amenable to Annette's charms than a judge - bad because the stakes were higher. Having a wealthy client serve a jail sentence would look very bad indeed for The Quill and Cane.
"All rise!" the bailiff announced.
The courtroom got to its collective feet - but all eyes were focussed on Anette's lovely little tushy, proudly on display in the centre of her custom-made skirt. She was required to wear it at all times when working. The senior partners had insisted that it made her more effective.
"A pert female bottom is a distraction," Alexander had told her. "The jury, the opposing council - everyone is going to be looking at your ass. You can wrap them, around your finger!"
Annette wasn't so sure. "Yes, I'm sure they will be looking," she replied dubiously. "But will they be listening? Unless my arguments get through to them, I'm still going to lose."
"It's an effective strategy," David assured her. "Companies have been using pretty young women to make sales since TV was invented. This takes it a step further. Your ass is live advertising. Besides, it's a demonstration of this firm's commitment to the job. We advertise that any girl who fails in her duties gets an immediate dose of corporal punishment. Having your bottoms on display confirms that. Our clients can be assured that you will all do your best - or else!" Both men laughed.
And so it was Annette's delectable derriere was on display, framed by her otherwise plain skirt. Having been publically strapped since her teenage years, she was resigned to the fact that she had no modesty left - but being bare-bottomed in court while everyone else was clothed was an irritating reminder that her gender and beauty were a disadvantage in today's world.
Judge Firmhand was presiding today. Mid-fifties, slightly overweight, and with a genial appearance that belied his enthusiasm for corporal punishment. Annette had not been thrilled to hear that he was hearing the case.
Firmhand banged his gavel sharply. "Court is now in session! You may begin." He nodded at the prosecutor.
Dale Cooper was in his late thirties, sandy-haired and wore silver-rimmed spectacles. Short but confident, he was known to be a skilled lawyer and relentless in pressing his case. Combined with the fact that Boris was guilty as sin, it was frankly impossible to see how Annette could change the inevitable outcome. But her orders were clear - she must do everything possible.
Cooper outlined the facts of the case and the nature of the charge. "I wish to add, your honor, that mister Karloff has a bad driving record going back over thirty years. Speeding, failure to signal, running red lights - he seems to completely disregard the laws that exist for public safety!"
"Objection!" Annette rose to her feet. "Previous behaviour should only be taken into account when sentencing. Introducing this information now is predjudicial to my client's case!"
"Overruled!" smiled the judge. "Bend and present!'
Goddammit!
The CPA had spread rapidly to all areas of life. Attractive young women were not only targets for the police and at the mercy of their employers - any authority figure could order a spanking on some flimsy pretext. It hadn't been long before judges had decided that a failed objection was "wasting court time" - and deserving of corporal punishment. Of course, this only applied to female lawyers - men were never given the same treatment. Even when the judge was a woman Annette knew she would be the only one baring her ass for punishment. The whole idea was ridiculous since the beating took far longer than the few seconds she had 'wasted' - but there was no fairness under the CPA.
So 'bend and present' was a normal part of court proceedings, but Annette had hoped to at least get through the morning session before receiving swats. Getting her first dose this early was a major drawback. Having a red, throbbing rear was a distraction she didn't need and it made her more hesitant to push her case. Being walloped at her first objection was disheartening - both for her case and for her confidence.
With a sigh, Annette walked up and took her place in front of the judge's bench, turning her back to him. While her open-backed skirt seemed to be ideal for receiving a spanking, it was far too tight to allow her to assume the proper position - bent double and legs wide. So she had to raise it above her waist before placing her feet apart and bending over. She held tight to her ankles and raised her head to look the jury in the eyes - any sign of weakness would harm her case and she wasn't going to take this for nothing.
Judge Firmhand looked approvingly at Annette's rump. Milky-white, well-toned, and cheeks enticingly spread thanks to her position. He reached for his mini-scope and zoomed in on her private area, hoping for any imperfection that would allow him to order extra swats for "contempt of court" if she was not well presented. Unfortunately for him, Annette was impeccably groomed, having had herself lasered years before. Only a thin line of neatly-trimmed hair lay above her slit - Annette believed that a landing strip conveyed a more professional appearance than a completely smooth mound. Her slender legs were topped by her delightfully firm round ass, and even in her wide-spread position her pussy was small and neat, inner lips just barely showing. Her rear entrance was a lovely little ring of pink. It was easy to believe that nothing had ever gone up there - though the truth was that both of her special places were regularly invaded by eager, latex-clad fingers. Being a lawyer did not protect Annette against the cavity searches that police inflicted on attractive women, and bending over a table to be probed was an indignity she suffered at least once or twice a month. Spreading her ass-cheeks to allow easy access to her holes was part of the routine - as was the usual blowjob to avoid being strapped on some fabricated charge. Since she was frequently taking swats in court she couldn't afford to get additional strappings outside of it, so she had learned to accept her place in the sexist regime of the CPA and sacrifice her pride to save her posterior.
Firmhand took his time admiring the pornographic view in front of him. Not a hair out of place, lips delicate, asshole clean enough to lick. Satisfied that Annette's lady-parts were presentable, he lowered his scope and nodded to the bailiff. "Proceed!'
The bailiff stepped forward, unhooking his paddle. Judges had discretion as to the nature of the punishments dealt out in their courts, and while the police-issue strap was the standard, canes, paddles and riding crops were also in use. Firmhand was a devotee of the wooden paddle, believing that it left a longer-lasting impression on the victim. Having been on the receiving end of a variety of instruments of correction, Annette privately agreed with him. Firmhand liked to boast that no female lawyer left his courtroom without getting her ass tanned at least once, and given the nature of her case Annette could count on at least two or three paddlings before they were done. She wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for a week!
Annette felt the paddle tap against her cheeks as the bailiff checked his range and angle. She scanned the faces of the jury and focussed on the man who seemed most excited by her impending punishment. Looking him square in the eye, she winked flirtatiously, while bracing herself for what was to come.
*WHACK!*
The paddle slammed into her tender flesh - but Annette didn't cry out. She drew a deep breath through her gritted teeth and smiled sweetly at the juror.
"One. Thank you sir!" she said promptly. Her response was for the benefit of the bailiff and judge, but by keeping her gaze on the juror she could convey the impression that she was thanking HIM for her punishment - an idea that would stick in his mind and leave him more receptive to her arguments.
*WHACK!*
"Two. Thank you sir!"
The blows came at a steady pace, and Annette counted them off promptly. Fortunately for her, the 'wasting court time' paddling was only six swats instead of the standard dozen issued by police. Less fortunately, there was no limit to the number of spankings she could be issued in the course of the day. Every failed objection or procedural error would result in summary justice to her behind. Since she was under orders to argue every point, she could expect to be bending over more often than usual.
*WHACK!*
"Five. Thank you sir!"
The paddle was really stinging now. Annette could take the pain, but soon she would be resuming her seat on a hard wooden bench that offered no comfort. When strapped in public she could find a quiet spot to give herself a good rub - but in court she had no such option. Having to put on a brave face was the real challenge in her job.
*WHACK!*
"Six. Thank you sir!" Annette forced herself to pucker her lips and blow a kiss to the juror - who's amazed expression showed that her efforts had not been in vain. At least she had scored a few points with this...
Being a natural beauty had made Annette a target of police straps the moment she turned thirteen and was old enough for a public spanking. She had heard "bend and present!" more times than she could count. So, like most frequently-punished girls, she had learned to "work the system" by appealing to the ego of the lust-driven officers who tanned her young backside. The unofficial 'discounting' of stacked punishments had been her safety net. Legally, she had a right to take a raincheck on any swats over the standard dozen - but she could receive a reduced punishment if she opted to take her additional swats then and there. Since the officers on patrol would not be the ones to administer any deferred punishment she was able to negotiate with them, allowing them the privilege of giving her more than they were normally permitted while saving herself from the dreadful wait before reporting to a police station to receive her swats in full.
She had learned early that being meek, submissive, and (supposedly) grateful for her thrashings gave her greater bargaining power. She would look at the plod with wide, sad eyes and humbly bow her head as he stacked her (usually concocted) 'offences' and told her how many swats she was due. She would then be asked if she would like a raincheck or a discount. Since Annette preferred to get things settled on the spot rather than have a further spanking hanging over her head, she would ask for a discount. The standard discount on stacked punishments was fifty percent, but Annette had learned how to reduce it further. She would step right up to the cop and turn her beautiful face up to meet his gaze - while surreptitiously massaging his cock through his pants. "I've been a bad girl! she would say. "I need a good, HARD strapping! - and I'm glad you're going to give it to me!" She would then make her offer - which would be far lower than the normal discount. Her looks, contrition (and skilful handjobs) were usually effective, and she could bargain down to a lesser punishment, thus saving herself from greater injury.
She wasn't able to reduce her swats in court by the same method, but it was effective at winning the hearts and minds of the jurors. Being proud or defiant made her seem combative and bitchy, whereas taking her spankings like a good girl would generate sympathy and manipulate them into seeing things her way. So she had continued the practice, feigning gratitude for her beatings. She was a smart, logical woman, and sacrificing her pride made far more sense than taking her swats for no professional gain.
"You may rise, counsel," Firmhand said magnanimously.
Annette stood, pulling her skirt back down. Her behind was stinging, but she knew better than to rub at it. Admitting that the paddle had hurt would be bad not only for her case but for her career. Barristers from the Quill and Cane were expected to take their swats without displaying any fear or pain. She faced the judge again, fully aware that her reddened bottom was now on display to the rest of the court.
"Thank you, your Honor. I am grateful for the lesson." She bowed her head in faked gratitude.
"Very well." The judge nodded to the prosecutor. "Continue."
Annette took her seat again. Her buttocks were warm from the swats she had received and tingled uncomfortably as she tried to feign unconcern. This was not a good start to her day!
Boris merely smiled happily. He regarded her paddling as an amusing distraction from the court proceedings. Despite her previous warnings, he didn't seem to grasp the seriousness of his position. Being rich and entitled, he had long been convinced that he could avoid any consequence to his actions simply by throwing enough money at the problem.
Unfortunately for Boris, his money wasn't going to sway Judge Firmhand. Even more unfortunately, it was Annette who would take the licks as she fought her losing battle against the mountain of evidence that Cooper would bring before the court. It wasn't long before she had raised another objection - only to have it promptly denied.
"Present to the jury this time," Firmhand instructed. "I want them all to see how justice is administered!"
Annette obediently walked over to the jury box. Most of the jurors were male, and all (including the women) were obviously excited at the prospect of getting a close-up view of her next punishment. She affected a contrite air as she spoke.
"My apologies for wasting your time ladies and gentlemen. I hope that you will enjoy seeing me get what I deserve."
She took her time drawing up her skirt and bending over, while excited gasps and chuckles sounded behind her. She held her head up to look out at the courtroom. Firmhand was watching with smug satisfaction, the rest of the onlookers showed open delight - except for Dale Cooper, who wore a bored, somewhat irritated expression. He didn't like having his case interrupted like this. He was either a total professional - or else (as the rumours had it) gay. It was disappointing that Annette's submission to the paddle wasn't going to have any effect on his performance - she could use any advantage she could get. Nonetheless, she forced herself to hold his gaze - this was her first case against him and she wanted him to know that she was someone to be reckoned with.
The bailiff rubbed his paddle in circles over the beautiful little bottom in front of him. Dishing out another dose so soon was a rare treat! But he took his time, teasing the lovely lawyer and gently smacking the underside of her buttocks a few times to make her ass jiggle. He liked to put on a show.
*WHACK!*
Annette's behind was already hyper-sensitive, and this swat hurt more than the previous ones. She kept her teeth tight-clenched while she exhaled. "One, thank you sir!" she said obediently.
The paddle rubbed her bottom again, followed by more pats. It was clear this was going to be a long and theatrical spanking for the benefit of the jury.
*WHACK!*
"Two. Thank you sir!" she tried to distance herself from the pain in her ass. The rubbing and patting ritual was repeated, heightening her anticipation.
*WHACK!*
"Three!" Annette swallowed hard. "Thank you sir!" She winked at Cooper, who shook his head and turned away in disgust.
The remaining swats came with the same deliberate slowness, giving the jury plenty of time to admire the bailiff's handiwork. Her white cheeks had a broad red stripe across the middle and a small, round "bullseye" bruise was developing on each buttock - a sure sign of a solid, brutal paddling. Each swat hurt more than the last, but Annette held position. She kept her eyes on Cooper, in case he looked back at her.
*WHACK!*
The final swat landed on her bruised bottom.
"Six! Thank you sir!" Annette counted promptly. She waited for permission to stand.
"You may rise counsel."
Annette stood slowly, both to allow the jury maximum time to admire her ass - and to compose herself. She left her skirt above her waist, allowing everyone to admire her nudity as she addressed Judge Firmhand.
"Thank you, your honor. I'm sure I have learned from that." She faced the delighted jurors and gave them her most dazzling smile. The senior partners had taught her (the hard way) that she should always seem happy to be punished. "Was it good for you?" she asked flirtatiously.
She was rewarded by delighted giggles and broad grins. At least she had made an impression!
Her ass was burning hotter than before, but she forced herself to walk slowly back to her seat.
"Skirt down counsel!" barked Firmhand.
"Apologies your honor. I completely forgot!" Annette lied. She stood in front of Cooper and turned to present her glowing cheeks to him, while looking back over her shoulder with disdain. Pulling her skirt back down merely served to highlight her red and white buttocks in the middle of the dark fabric. She smiled at Cooper, who rolled his eyes in evident annoyance.
Good! Annette thought. Maybe I can't lead you by the dick, but I can still get under your skin!
The case progressed swiftly. The prosecution's evidence was overwhelming, and the verdict was pretty much a slam-dunk. Annette bravely objected to the chain of evidence, knowing full well what the result would be. This time it was the gallery who got an eyeful of her feminine charms as she took her third session for the day. She heard snickers and lewd comments behind her as she took position.
"Show us the goods love!"
"Serves you right you little strumpet!"
"Don't worry sweetheart - I promise to kiss you better afterwards!"
Annette drew her skirt up high and turned to the bailiff. "Give it to me hard sir! Good spankings make for good girls!"
She looked over to the jury box again, finding another man to favour with her eye contact. Middle-aged, average looks - probably hadn't been laid in months. She held his gaze as she bent over, and his ecstatic grin showed that he was thrilled to be the focus of her attention.
The paddle rubbed over her sore bottom, grim warning of what was to come. She wiggled her hips in response. "My ass is ready for your hard wood, sir!" she said, provoking more snickers from the audience.
The paddle tapped her bum a couple of times, and then -
*WHACK!*
"Oooohh! One, thank you sir!"
The rub and pat was repeated.
*WHACK!*
"Ahhhh! Two, thank you sir!"
Annette kept her gaze on the delighted juror. Faking gratitude for her swats was a long-standing habit - the only difficulty was keeping the smile on her face. She could take a couple of dozen from a police strap without losing her composure - but the time delay between her paddlings made it more difficult to keep her cool. Her bruises had ripened, her buttocks were swollen and sensitive. In the street she could look at the ground and didn't have to hide her reaction, but in court it was a different story. The paddle laid into her with unrelenting brutality - and each time she had to conceal her pain while seeming grateful.
*WHACK!*
"Five!" She paused to take a breath. "Thank you sir!" Despite her best efforts she knew that she was now squirming, her tight little butt waggling to and fro. Only one more to come, she told herself.
She forced a grin at the juror while trying not to cringe at the rubbing of the paddle on her burning bottom. "Make it a good one sir!" she encouraged.
*WHACK!*
The heavy paddle slammed into her once more.
"MMMMMMmmmmmmmm!"
Annette clenched her jaw and shuddered as the swat sent fresh waves of agony through her slender body. She could feel her face twitch while she bit her lip to avoid crying out. She managed a thin smile at the juror before panting heavily.
"S-six! Th-th-ank you s-sir! That was a fine s-spanking!"
Firmhand took his time before giving her permission to stand. In his own way, he was quite fond of Annette. She was a capable lawyer and a good example for other women who took the paddle in his court. But she had objected three times this morning, and he could not allow that to set some kind of precedent. So he waited, letting the gallery feast their eyes on her now black-and-blue bottom. Eventually he spoke the words Annette was waiting to hear.
"You may rise counsel."
"Thank you, your honor." She straightened up, keeping her eyes on Firmhand while she rolled her skirt back down. "I am glad that I have been put in my place." Her rump now burned like a bonfire, and she could hardly think straight. Three paddlings in two hours! This had to be her worst case ever!
To her relief, Firmhand called a recess immediately after her punishment. Despite his age his libido was still high, and it was common knowledge that he had his secretary relieve the sexual tension that resulted from seeing young women spanked in his courtroom. Annette rushed to the ladies room to rub soothing cream on her battered bottom. The burning subsided a little, and she turned her attention to her makeup. She was carefully wiping off some running mascara when a smartly-dressed blonde entered the bathroom. Annette recognised her as a lawyer from another firm, although the two had never spoken previously. The new arrival looked at Annette's shamelessly exposed rear and her eyes widened.
"That's a lot of damage! How many did you get?"
"Eighteen," Annette replied grimly. "And I'll probably get another dozen by the end of the day."
"Damn. Sucks to be you!"
Annette snorted. "Sucks to be all of us," she said pointedly. "How's your ass?"
"Got strapped as soon as we started. Judge said there was a procedural error on my paperwork."
"And was there?"
"If you count a spelling mistake as 'procedural error', yes." Blondie rubbed her behind with a mournful sigh.
"Damn. He must have been a real bastard!" Annette sympathised.
"Bitch, actually," replied her companion in misery. "I swear, the women are worse than the men half the time. What happened to sisterly solidarity?"
"It never existed," Annette said dourly. "Truth is, women have always been jealous of each other - always happy to cut each other down. Female judges are old and wrinkled - female barristers are young and pretty. They hate us for it."
The ravishing blonde fastened her eyes on Annette's bottom again. "I have to ask - why did you take a job with a firm that forces you to be on display like that? I hear they only hire the best graduates, so you must have had other options."
Annette shrugged. "They pay their junior lawyers more than anyone else does. And half the country must have seen my pink bits by now, showing a bit of skin hardly counts. Besides, the court gets the full monty sooner or later there's no point being prudish. But mainly, all the staff at Quill and Cane are women - except the senior partners of course. So there's plenty of room for advancement."
"Fair enough," the other woman responded. "It's just ridiculous though. We have to drop our panties and get whipped on any pretext - while the men get to watch, and they never get the same treatment."
"It's the way things are these days." Annette put the finishing touches on her makeup. "You know the funny thing? I can hardly remember when it used to be different. Seems like I've been getting strapped, caned or paddled my whole life." She checked her watch. "Got to run!" Court was back in session soon, and she dared not risk being late...
Following the recess, Cooper began his closing arguments. He reminded the judge about the seriousness of the charges, and how Boris had a long history of bad driving. Annette barely listened. She was glumly reviewing her notes, in case there was something - anything - that she could use. She glanced at PC Carver's accident scene report. Routine procedures, nothing out of the ordinary. The accident had been captured on CCTV, the video available to the plods even before they arrived on the scene. Boris had slammed into the parked car like a torpedo - he hadn't even touched the brakes. When he had stumbled out of his car a couple of minutes later he was obviously drunk, leaning against the Rolls for support while he called his lawyers - his one smart action in this whole mess. To make matters worse, there had been a half-empty bottle of vodka rolling on the floor of his car. It was hard to imagine a more damning situation.
Suddenly a glimmer of hope appeared. Something she could use! It was a long shot, and would most likely cost her another beating, but it was the last chance she had.
Cooper concluded his final statements and returned to his seat. Firmhand looked at Annette. "Your turn counsel."
Annette stood. "Your honor, I would like to call PC Carver back to the stand."
Firmhand raised an eyebrow. "That's a little irregular, counsel. You had a chance to cross-examine earlier."
"Yes, your honor, but I have a few questions that may benefit my client's case, and I am duty-bound to ask them."
"Very well. I grant your request."
"Thank you, your honor!" Annette smiled.
"But first you need to be taught the importance of following correct procedure." He pointed to the floor in front of him. "Bend and present!"
SHIT!
Even though Annette had been expecting this her heart still sank at the prospect of taking another six. She was hurting enough already!
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she bowed her head in agreement. "Of course, your honor. I deserve a good spanking for not asking my questions earlier."
This time her contrite statement was true. CP had not only been administered by her headmaster and by the police - she had been strapped and caned throughout her college years. She was regularly ordered to assume the position in front of the lecture hall in order to be punished for a wrong answer or impertinent question.
"You'll thank me for this one day!" she was often told as the strap crossed her bare backside. "You'll remember these lessons for the rest of your life!"
Indeed she had - for the most part. Annette cursed herself for not being more diligent in her preparation. She had only one chance to win this case - and if she had raised it earlier she could have spared herself a lot of pain. But it was too late now. Taking another session with the paddle was her own fault.
Soon she was in position, cringing at the sound of the bailiff stepping behind her. The 'bullseye' bruises in the centre of her buttocks were well developed, and they gave the grinning bailiff a perfect target - as well as evidence of how badly the previous paddlings had hurt her.
*WHACK!*
Annette shuddered at the impact of the paddle. Her legs trembled and she took a few seconds to count off.
"One, Th-thank you sir."
*WHACK!*
"Gnnn! T-two, th-thank you s-sir!" she stammered.
It took all of her willpower to hold position as the paddle smacked into her again and again. The sound of wood on flesh rang loud in the courtroom, accompanied by the delighted giggling of the crowd. While the men chuckled openly, the women were more subdued, fully aware that expressing their enjoyment too loudly ran the risk of getting their own bottoms beaten for "contempt of court".
Annette could not hide the grimace that twisted her pretty face every time the wooden paddle punished her - nor could she maintain eye contact with a member of the jury. The best she could manage was the occasional pleading glance at the jury-box, and hope that her obvious distress would gain some sympathy. She looked over at Boris and was gratified to see that he at least showed some concern for her misfortune.
*WHACK!*
"F-Fi-ive!" Annette breathed heavily. The pain was almost unbearable now, her buttocks felt like they were swollen to twice their normal size. But still she had words to say - and another swat to come. "Th-th - " she paused. Why did she have to thank him for each swat? This was BULLSHIT!
"Thank y-you, s-sir!"
*WHACK!*
The final swat hammered into Annette's trembling backside. "OOOoooh!" she moaned, desperately trying not to cry out. It's over! she told herself. You made it!
"S-s-six! Th-th-thank y-you s-sir!"
"You may rise, counsel."
Annette stood and pulled her skirt back down. God DAMN! Her ass was on FIRE! She needed desperately to rub at it and soothe the pain a little - but her reaction to the latest spanking had clearly shown she was hurting and she could not risk affirming it by grabbing her bum like a schoolgirl. She clasped her hands together in front of her to avoid massaging her aching buttocks.
"T-thank you, y-your h-honor. That w-was just what I n-needed!"
"It certainly was!" Firmhand grinned.
Annette sniffed and blinked back her tears as Carver took the stand again. She pretended to review her notes for as long as she dared, while she fought to regain her composure.
"PC Carver, you were the officer in charge of the accident scene, correct?"
"Yes I was."
"And it was you who decided what actions should be taken?"
"Of course," said Carver a little testily. "That's what being in charge means."
"You were able to view the CCTV footage on the spot, using your mobile phone?"
"I did, yes. He swerved across a lane and went straight into the back of the parked vehicle."
"With no attempt to stop?"
"None at all!" replied Carver. "If that Rolls didn't have such good safety features he'd likely be dead on the spot."
"And what was done with Mr Karloff's Rolls-Royce after the accident?"
"I ordered it towed to an impound yard."
Annette smiled. "Not to a vehicle inspection station?"
"No," Carver looked confused. He didn't know where she was headed with this...
"So despite the fact that this vehicle was involved in an accident that clearly showed it did not brake, you did not see fit to have it checked by an automotive specialist?"
PC Carver looked confused. "Of course not. I watched the video, he drove straight into a parked car without slowing down, it's obvious that he didn't try to stop."
"Are you aware that many new vehicles are equipped with anti-collision systems that automatically employ the brakes?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"Given that this particular vehicle was, in your words, possessed of 'good safety features', and therefore was likely fitted with such a system, you didn't think it prudent to investigate whether the brakes had, in fact, failed to operate? Regardless of the state of the driver, an anti-collision system should have at least slowed down the car before the impact. Since the video clearly shows it did not, did it ever occur to you that the braking system may have failed?"
She held her breath. In the course of her preparation she had checked every possible angle - and she knew that this particular model was not fitted with an auto-pilot braking system. But maybe Carver didn't...
"Well, no..." Carver was flustered. "Look, he was driving while drunk, and - "
"Was he?" Annette demanded. "You said yourself that you found a bottle of vodka in the car."
"YES!" Carver was emphatic.
"So you acknowledge that there was alcohol available to my client."
"Of course there was!" Carver retorted. "He'd already had half the bottle!"
"At what point?" Annette demanded.
"Excuse me?" Carver was perplexed.
"The video shows that my client did not exit his vehicle for two minutes after the crash. Is it not possible that he drank the vodka AFTER the collision, to settle his nerves?"
Carver's mouth dropped open. "He was drunk! He smashed his car..."
"WHEN WAS HE DRUNK?" Annette yelled. "You have stated that there was alcohol in the car. The video shows that he remained in the car for at least two minutes. There was plenty of time for him to drink before exiting!"
"Well yes, but -"
"Your honor, I move for dismissal!" Annette turned to face the judge.
Firmhand raised an eyebrow. "On what grounds, counsel?"
"The prosecution failed to investigate the possibility of mechanical failure!" Annette declared. "Thus they cannot prove that the accident was the result of my clients driving. And as regards the drink-driving charge, PC Carver has admitted that there was a bottle of vodka in the car - which could have been consumed AFTER the accident!"
Firmhand narrowed his eyes. This was an unexpected turn of events...
"With the greatest possible respect, your honor - " Annette managed to smile at the man who had ordered her to receive two dozen swats in the last few hours, "- The standard of proof in this case is 'beyond reasonable doubt!' I submit that the prosecution's case does not meet that standard!"
There was a lengthy pause. Firmhand chewed his lip, obviously unsure of how to proceed.
"I will need to consider," he said eventually. "In the meantime, assume the position, in case I rule against you."
JESUS FUCK! NOT AGAIN!
Annette swallowed hard and tried to hide the dread that she felt. "Who should I present to, your honor?"
"Present to the witness. It is him that you are calling into question."
"As you command your honor."
Annette turned to the witness box. Carver was smirking openly. He didn't like having his testimony challenged like this, and he relished the chance to get a good view of Annette's tight little booty before the paddling he was sure would follow.
Annette looked him square in the eye and made a dismissive toss of her head as if to say "You aren't going to win this!" With an outward show of confidence that she definitely did not feel, she stood with her back to him and slowly pulled up her skirt again. She paused to let the whole courtroom get a good look at her nether regions before parting her legs and bending over. The bailiff swiftly took position behind her, paddle in hand.
The wait was agonising. Several long minutes with her head down, ass in the air. All the while she could feel Carver's gaze on her bare buttocks, studying the multicoloured bruises she had already collected. She knew that her case was valid, her points legal - but that wasn't always enough. Carver meanwhile was feasting his eyes on her much-abused backside. He had been embarrassed by Annette's questioning - it made him look incompetent! He could tell that Annette was close to breaking point, and hoped to see her lose control and cry. She was about to get what she deserved - it was just a shame that he wouldn't be the one to give it to her!
A cough from the judge indicated that he had made a decision. Annette shuddered and bit her lip. Here it comes...
She tried to console herself with the thought that she had made every effort, and the senior partners couldn't fault her performance. Take your swats, live to fight another day!
"I have considered the matter carefully," said Firmhand. "It is not in dispute that the defendant was driving a vehicle that was involved in an accident. Neither is it in dispute that he had consumed alcohol."
NOOOOO! Annette was grateful that no-one could see the horrified expression on her face.
"However, PC Carver's testimony makes it clear that he did not investigate the possibility of mechanical failure, and I agree with the defending counsel that the alcohol could have been consumed afterward. In light of those two points, my judgement is that it is not possible for this case to be proven to the standard required by law. Therefore I rule in favour of the defendant. This case is dismissed!" He slammed his gavel down on the block. "Well done counsel. You may stand now."
The court buzzed with excitement. Annette slowly straightened up, giddy with both relief and elation. Her ass was still throbbing from the many swats she had taken, she could barely stand straight - but she had won! She had made the firm proud indeed!
She turned to face PC Carver. "Better luck next time!" she cooed. "Remember - if you were smart, you wouldn't be a cop!"
She turned her back on the seething police officer and walked back to her client, who was grinning broadly at this sudden change of fortune. It was time to remind him that she wasn't just a hot piece of ass.
"And THAT," she said with heavy emphasis, "Is why you pay five hundred pounds an hour. Not because I'm pretty, but because I'm good at my job!"
Boris nodded in agreement. To her surprise, he took her hand and kissed it.
"Excellent work my dear!" He bowed his head - and for the first time in ages, Annette felt that she was being given genuine respect.
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