DISCIPLINE IN D MINOR

                             by

                         Imreadonly



The music started, Pachelebel's "Canon in D Minor."  When he heard 
the familiar melody, Judge Hardcase smiled and sank back into his 
vast red leather chair.

He sat at his desk in his elegant private study, perusing the 
preliminary schedule for "Justice Night."  He took a long drag 
on his cigar and paused a moment to enjoy the blazing fire in 
the huge fireplace on the far end of the room.  After letting 
himself drift along with the music for a moment longer, he 
reached for the next case file. 

Julia, a 21-year-old American Rhodes Scholar, with curly red hair 
and a winning smile, had written the headmaster several months 
prior, requesting a chance to tour the reformatory during her 
studies in England.  She explained that she had written several 
pieces of fiction for the Internet and was anxious to visit a 
site where corporal punishment was actually practiced, as she had 
always fantasized about what it might be like to be so confined.

The headmaster's reply, which suggested Julia visit the Tower of 
London, was doubtlessly disappointing.  Not easily dissuaded, 
however, Julia wrote back and brazenly stated that, although she 
was entirely apolitical, her roommate's tiresome boyfriend was 
urging her to take part in a protest at the upcoming economic 
summit.  She wasn't planning on attending, but wondered if the 
rumors she had heard about attractive female protesters being 
targeted for reformatory detentions were true?

The headmaster's harshly worded reply informed Julia that he had 
several college girls "under correction" for similar offenses and 
sternly warned her that, "if you are foolish enough to partake in 
a disorderly protest, I will personally speak with the magistrate 
to ensure that you are punished to the limits of the law."

The next photograph in the file was stamped EVIDENCE and, judging 
from the time-stamp, it had been taken by the police during the 
demonstration.  The photo showed Julia, looking quite fetching in 
her Christian Dior jacket, tight blue jeans, and chic Prada boots, 
standing demurely outside the summit with her hands in her pockets 
as her roommate and the scruffy, bearded boyfriend burned a flag.  
Everyone in the photograph seemed to be shouting, except for Julia, 
who looked quite bored, as if she were waiting for a bus. 

The judge took a moment to enjoy the bass line before turning to 
the arrest report.

Would it surprise you to learn that after a few hours' detention 
the protest organizers, Julia's roommate, and her flag-burning 
boyfriend were released en-masse, while Julia was bound over for 
trial?  It did not surprise the chuckling judge, for he knew the 
headmaster to be a man of his word.

Julia, who had waived her right to counsel, stood alone before the 
magistrate's massive bench.  Her lovely figure and red curls caught 
the attention of everyone in the court, and she looked quite 
remorseful as she tearfully explained that she had simply been 
standing there with her hands in her pockets when the police 
arrested her.  Nonetheless, she apologized profusely, offering that 
she was a "good girl" and a straight-A student who had never had so 
much as a traffic citation.  Overcome with remorse, she begged the 
court's pardon for her "foolish mistake."

Judge Hardcase let the strings lift him through the court
transcript, past Julia's tiresome pleadings and directly to 
the magistrate's verdict.  He smiled.  After a stern lecture 
about "hooliganism" the magistrate declared the Rhodes scholar 
"delinquent" and sentenced her to "a year of strict reformatory 
discipline." 

"Your sentence will include 12 strokes of the razor strap, to be 
administered on the next Justice Night, across your BARE bottom," 
he added with a most unbecoming leer.  The gavel SLAMMED down.  
Justice was done.

Julia was aghast.  She had expected to be taken to the reformatory 
for a strapping, or, at worst, a caning. But a year of reformatory 
discipline! 

The music dipped as Judge Hardcase eagerly turned to the next 
picture, the "posture photos" of Julia taken when she was 
admitted to the reformatory.  In the photos, which show her 
front, back, and profile, she was entirely naked.  Her dazed 
expression made her look like a stunned sheep, as if she couldn't 
quite believe what was happening.  Her deep blush accented the 
lovely red curls perfectly.  The photos also revealed that she 
was indeed a natural redhead.

Upon hearing of her incarceration, Julia's wealthy and influential 
mother had immediately contacted her lawyer and ordered him to 
retain a British solicitor to secure her daughter's release. 

Julia knew she had bitten off more than she could chew, but, ever 
prideful, refused to admit her mistake.  In fact, she quickly 
convinced herself that the sentence had been part of her plan all 
along.  Besides, she reasoned, she was going to be in England for 
a year anyway....

Julia asked the headmaster if she might call her mother, and, when 
she explained her purpose, the request was granted.  During her 
recorded phone call, she tersely ordered her mother to stop the 
solicitor's "meddling."  After a few minutes of evasion, Julia 
finally told her mother about the spanking stories she had been 
writing and her desire to experience a genuine reformatory 
punishment.

To Julia's surprise, instead of being shocked, her mother was 
greatly amused to learn of her "perfect daughter's naughty-girl 
fantasies."  Unbeknownst to Julia, her mother had long thought 
that "Daddy's perfect little angel" might benefit from a good 
spanking and was delighted to discover that Julia agreed.  This 
could be very interesting....

"Mother, I want you to think of me not as your daughter, but as a 
reformatory delinquent who needs to be punished.  I want you to be 
strict with me and to make sure that I serve my entire term, no 
matter how much I beg you to be released.  Do you think you can 
handle that?" 

Julia's mother bristled at the query -- and at her daughter's 
condescending tone.  In her usual, overbearing way, Julia was 
again insinuating that her mother would never be quite as bright 
or competent as Julia herself.

"I'll do my best dear," her mother replied, biting her tongue.

"Are you going to fly to London to watch them spank my bottom on 
Justice Night?" Julia asked anxiously.  "I've fantasized about 
someone I know seeing me get it, but I know it would be horribly 
embarrassing.  No, you'd better not come....  It's a long flight, 
and it would be too embarrassing.  Just promise you'll stop your 
minions from meddling and promise you'll make them treat me like 
a real delinquent."

Julia's mother promised Julia she would do her very best. 

"Thank you, mother.  And remember, whatever happens, it's for my 
own good."

Julia's mother was as good as her word.  She certainly agreed that 
the punishment was for Julia's own good, and, in her mind, it was 
also long overdue.  Wasting no time, she took up her daughter's 
cause great gusto and (if truth be told) more than a trace of 
satisfaction.

She wrote the magistrate a long letter describing her "grave 
disappointment" with her daughter's "hooliganism" and 
commending him for Julia's "just and proper sentence." 

"I have enclosed a substantial check and have sent another one for 
the same amount to the headmaster, to use as you both see fit.  If 
she misbehaves, I wish you to thrash her hard and bare, like any 
other delinquent.  For that is what she is, in my eyes, and in the 
eyes of the law.  From this moment on, as per my solemn promise to 
her, that is how I intend to treat her.

"I have arranged for my daughter to continue her studies at Oxford. 
Her tutors will visit her in the reformatory.  If she misbehaves, 
her instructors have been given leave to discipline her as they 
see fit, under your guidance and supervision, of course."

After enthusiastically praising the British reformatory system, 
Julia's mother closed the letter by requesting 15 tickets for 
Justice Night, for she intended "to fly some of Julia's less 
charitable friends, former beaux, and my household staff to London 
to watch my beloved daughter's long overdue comeuppance.  I believe 
in my heart that, above all, Julia needs a lesson in humility.  
Such a display is for her own good."

When the smirking headmaster informed Julia that she going to be 
punished in front of her "friends," former boyfriends, and "the 
rough lads who tend the garden and muck out your stables," she 
asked permission to phone her mother...collect.  When her mother 
refused to accept the charges, she wrote her a letter, complaining 
about the large number of guests, and the presence of the crude 
stable hands, "since I will be spanked pants-down, in case you've 
forgotten."

After several tense weeks of waiting, the response came not from 
Julia's mother, but from the headmaster himself.  "Your mother 
asked me to remind you that you are being chastised for your own 
good and in accordance with the law.  She is well aware that 
reformatory sluts are always whipped bare arsed and with their legs 
spread wide so that the entire bottom is available for discipline.  
Your tiresome tirade reminded her of the other wise tradition of 
gagging trollops before you whip them, lest their petulant whining 
slow down the speedy dispensation of justice."

Julia was stunned, but her mother, who by now was enjoying Julia's 
predicament far more than she ever imagined possible, decided a 
further lesson was in order.  Remembering all of the slights she 
had suffered at the hands of "Daddy's Perfect Angel," and reasoning 
that it was for Julia's own good, she forwarded the girl's protest 
letter on to the magistrate and inquired if her daughter's 
"petulant tone" and "insolent, insubordinate manner" might justify 
an increase in her punishment.  The magistrate, still grateful for 
his check, agreed that it did and increased the number of strokes 
from 12 to 18, before finally adding "six-of-the-best with a thin, 
whippy rattan cane" at the mother's suggestion.

Julia had begun her adventure as a brassy and confident little 
poseuse, anxious to go slumming.  But, as Justice Night drew 
inexorably closer, she felt increasingly like a naughty girl 
desperate to avoid her spanking.  Brilliant but arrogant, she had 
clearly underestimated her mother and had once again bitten off 
far more than she wished to chew.  But it was late in the day for 
regrets.  Her mother had promised her that she would be forced to 
serve out her sentence, no matter what, effectively cutting off 
her only means of escape.  Worse, by foolishly insisting her mother 
"think of her as a reformatory delinquent," she had inadvertently 
transformed her from a staunch ally to a fearsome antagonist 
determined to see her daughter shamed and humiliated.

Julia -- studious, virtuous and (in her mind) without flaw -- was 
now simply another reformatory guttersnipe.  Indeed, in her school 
cap, blazer, and short skirt, the pretty, vivacious redhead was 
indistinguishable from Elaine Cox, Jacqueline Grant, Tracy Hope, 
and the countless other miscreants who had preceded her.  Rhodes 
Scholar or not, on Justice Night she would be whipped bare bottom 
in front of a crowd of invited guests, the same as all the rest.

Julia knew her sentence was harsh, unjust, and shameful.  But, 
oddly enough, she had never felt closer to her mother.  And the 
thought of Justice Night kept her perpetually aroused and 
constantly on the verge of orgasm....

Judge Hardcase looked at the final posture photo, which showed 
Julia, naked, facing the wall, with her lovely red hair cascading 
over her shoulders.  But the judge's eyes focused lower, on Julia's 
high, tight, firm, and altogether magnificent bottom.  Her "tour" 
of the institution would begin with a pony ride on historic 
punishment horse #4, with 18 strokes of the strap and 6 strokes 
of the cane to spur her on. 

Punishment horse #4 was a mighty steed, which had been used to whip 
naughty trollops since the Middle Ages.  Julia's Oxford tutors 
ordered her to write a paper on #4, detailing its illustrious past, 
so she could better appreciate the rich history she was about to 
become a part of.  It was an agonizing assignment for Julia, but 
her mother, ever helpful, reviewed her notes each day and read each 
draft.

As the music faded away, Judge Hardcase closed Julia's file, took 
a thoughtful puff on his cigar, and stared into the fire.  The 
"Canon in D Minor" was beautiful.  Let justice be done.



Edited by C. Lakewood