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Views: 2953 Created: 2018.03.14 Updated: 2018.03.14

Severe Punishment for a Speeding Ticket

Part 2 - Prison

The judge slams the gavel and says, “It’s decided.”

The words hit me right in the chest.

The officer in the room goes out and brings in two built male officers who escort me out and into a police car in the parking lot.

I am speechless the first few minutes as we go off to jail.

My pulse has not slowed. The thought that they are actually going to whip my rear end keeps lingering. I can understand the system though. It is definitely a little erotic to think of. Try to not focus on it so much now, I tell myself.

“So” I start a conversation with the cop driving finally.

“How long has this city used corporal punishment?”

“As long as I’ve been on the force. One of our governors proposed the bill I guess like 15 years ago and it took. There were very convincing arguments for it. I like it, keeps people in line. No quick easy, wham bam pay a fine and that’s it. This way you’ll remember it. And believe me you’ll remember it.”

I try not to gulp. It’s more of erotic feeling then a fear. I feel my heartbeat beating fast again.

We get to the police station, I get fingerprinted. The cop dips my fingers on wet ink sponge and pressed them on some paper. Gives me wet wipes and paper towels to dry them off. I go through metal detectors, have to empty out pockets. They take it. “We’ll keep it in a safe place for you.” One of them says.

I am lead to a window with my stuff on a counter in front of it. I have to sign a form listing my belongings and how much cash I have. I read over it, count my money and I sign it. The person behind the counter then reaches under the window and takes my stuff. “You will get it back when you are released.” She says.

Finally I am taken to a large cell with 4 sets of bunk beds (total 8 beds), well there more like cots or mats. There are already 5 people in the cell. There is a toilet and a sink in the back right (from the view looking into the cell) corner of the room. Not much privacy. “So I have to pee in public.” I think. I don’t like that. Oh well.

One of the cops by me opens the door with a key, the other gently pushes me in and says, “In you go.”

Then the two cops leave. It’s just the 6 of us in there together. “What are you in for?” seems like such an appropriate question. Do they have the same kind of punishment as me, what do they think of this? I wonder.

“Hi” is what actually comes out of my mouth.

“What are you in here for?” another inmate asks.

“I was just thinking that question. I went over the speed limit. I’m going to be severely whipped on my butt.”

“Wow that’s harsh” he says.

All of the inmates are male in the cell I’m in.

I ask, “So they separate males and females?”

“Yea into different cells. Can’t have males and females in the same cells.”

“Yea of course.” I say

I then ask, “What are you all in for and what is your sentence?”

Talk to them for a while and I start to relax. Around 6 PM we all get sandwiches and a drink.

They tell me that they are used to the system in this city. Some of them have to spend a bit of time in jail, the most being 2 weeks. The crimes in this part of the prison are for minor offenders.

“I am not looking forward to tomorrow!” one says.

“That’s when you get your punishment?”

Turns out he is getting whipped on the rare in the stocks like me for running a stop sign, he pleaded down to 30 whacks but isn’t sure what the judge was planning for the sentence.

A few others are going to be getting the paddle to. So I’m not the only one.

That night I am able to fall asleep without a tremendous amount of difficulty. But it was hard to get to sleep.

In the morning my eyes open and I almost forget where I am.

I wonder in my grogginess, “Huh what’s going on? Where am I?” Then I remember. I’m in jail. Oh that’s right. I remember the talk about my paddling. No that can’t be right. I sit up and try to think if it was true. I think so.

I go over the events of yesterday. But that seems so unreal.

“Come on your up Johnson!” a cop comes over and calls out.

That’s the one that ran a red light.

Johnson losses his bravery and pleads, “Look we don’t have to do this right? I’m sorry! Come on, I won’t do it again. Please give me a break this just this one time.”

“You have to go!”

“I know. Look I can’t do this, I can’t! I can’t I’m sorry.”

I gulp.

“So there taking him...”

“Yep” It’s the quite one that response. He doesn’t say much. “to the paddling post.”

My memory has served me right. This is real.

I sit there in silence for a while. It turns out to be longer then I realize.

The cop comes back and calls my name. “Well it won’t last long.” I say to try to comfort myself.