Norton Parva

When the first of the new-style 'female correctional units'
opened at Norton Parva there had been many sceptics.  But it
had proved its worth.  It had soon become apparent that
relatively few of the inmates ever offended again.  Several
other similar units for women aged between sixteen and
thirty-five had now been set up, but Norton Parva still had a
reputation for the strictest discipline.  Contrary to initial
expectations it had been found that the regime was most
effective on middle-class 'white collar' criminals.  The
sudden transition from their comfortable, serene existence to
an environment where a momentary lapse might lead to their
bare bottom being caned had a most salutary effect.

  Twenty year old Melissa Scott-Lascelles was a typical inmate
of this type.  Something of a 'Sloane ranger', she had been
the secretary/personal assistant to the director of a large
insurance company.  With her boyfriend she had planned a
computer scam to transfer large amounts of money to their
accounts.  It had all gone wrong.  The boyfriend was doing
five years at Wandsworth, and Melissa had been sentenced to a
year at Norton Parva.

  It had all come as a tremendous shock to her.  Her very
expensive lawyer had assured her that she would be acquitted
or, at worse, receive only a suspended sentence.  The journey
from Court, handcuffed to a foul-mouthed prostitute, had been
a purgatory.  And being stripped on arrival, humiliatingly
body-searched and then made to dress in the school-type
uniform worn by Norton Parva inmates was worse.  The petite
redhead, scarcely out of her teens, could almost have been
taken for a real schoolgirl in her new uniform.

  Melissa passed her first few days inside in a daze of pure
misery.  She had never liked taking orders from anyone, but
now she found that when the staff said 'Jump' she had better
leap as high as she could.  All staff members carried leather
straps with them and used them for immediate punishment of
minor offences.  And on only her second day Melissa found out
that her own bottom was not immune.  She had lost her way back
to her cell after dinner and had asked a warder for
directions.

  The warder had told her, but not before she had administered
six strokes of the leather strap across Melissa's blue school
panties.  It was the first time that Melissa's bottom had ever
felt anything more than her boyfriend's love taps and she
stumbled back to her cell in floods of tears after the
infliction, with both hands up the back of her skirt, pressed
to her smarting bottom.

  Few of the other inmates had much sympathy for the wretched
newcomer.  She was regarded as stuck up and spoilt.  The only
friend she had made was her cellmate, Sharon Holden.  Sharon
was from a completely different background to the former
secretary.  Four years older than Melissa, she had been in and
out of institutions and reform schools of various kinds ever
since the age of eight.  Her latest sentence was for mugging
an old age pensioner and at the time of Melissa's arrival she
was halfway through a two year stretch.  But Sharon could
understand that it was hard for the University educated
Melissa to accept orders from warders who barely had one GCSE
between them.  And although her own bottom had now been
strapped so many times that she took that punishment
completely in her stride she could realise that it was still a
traumatic experience for Melissa.  She was also very different
from her cellmate in appearance being a well-built and
athletic five foot nine, strikingly beautiful with long blonde
hair.

  That night, in an effort to comfort her, Sharon crept into
her cellmate's bunk.  She was surprised at how eagerly the
younger girl responded to her advances.  Soon the girls were
locked in a passionate embrace, caressing each other all over,
their tongues in each other's mouths.  Melissa had never
before felt a lesbian impulse, but she was so lonely and so
desperately needed someone that she felt herself responding to
Sharon as she never had to a man.

  Lesbian relationships were strictly forbidden at Norton
Parva, and were not punished with a mere strapping.  The two
girls could not continue undiscovered for ever.  Within two
weeks they were called before Mrs Chambers, the Governor.  She
decided to make an example of them.  Melissa was sentenced to
eighteen strokes of the cane and Sharon, who had been caned
several times before, to the same number of strokes of the
birch.  Both punishments were to take place in public.

  Public canings were fairly unusual, perhaps about a dozen a
year, and birchings much rarer still, but a routine had been
developed.  For security reasons it was considered undesirable
to collect all the girls in one hall to witness a public
caning.  Therefore the inmates were split into groups divided
between the various training rooms used for courses.  The girl
to be punished than had to go from room to room, receiving
part of her punishment in each.  As a public caning of more
than twelve strokes was considered a severe punishment it was
required that a police officer be present.

*                          *                              *

The following day at four o'clock in the afternoon Melissa was
led into one of the four training rooms by a burly police
sergeant holding tightly onto her right ear through her thick
red hair.

  Already near to tears, the pretty twenty year old was bent
over the large desk at the front of the room normally used by
the lecturers.  Sergeant Marlowe lifted Melissa's navy blue
school skirt and pinned it up in position, revealing her
slightly plumpish behind, quivering inside tightly fitting
blue panties.

  There was an audience to this scene.  Sitting behind their
desks were their usual occupants, about forty young female
offenders brought to see what happened to naughty girls who
flout the institution's rules.  But more shamingly, from
Melissa's point of view, prison officers, male as well as
female, were also there, standing up by the sides of the
inmates' desks, drinking in the sight.

  After a brief pause, enabling everyone to appreciate the
poignancy of the situation, the sergeant leaned down again and
roughly pulled those blue panties down.  They slid down
Melissa's legs and ended up over her ankles.  Now everyone saw
exposed the ample curvaceous bottom of the stuck up
middle-class girl; a bottom never spanked before her arrival
and which had been pampered throughout its life.  All that was
going to change now and Sergeant Marlowe stepped to one side
and picked up a long cane from the front desk.

  The cane, of the same type as that used on the 'hard cases'
at a boys' Reform School, was over three feet long and rather
more than a quarter of an inch in diameter.  The sergeant
picked it up and whipped it through the air twice.  The
whistle as the supple cane lashed through the unresisting air
sounded clearly throughout the crowded room.  Several of the
inmates grimaced involuntarily and wriggled uncomfortably on
the hard seats, remembering the pain that that vicious rod had
caused to their own behinds.

  But the sergeant was not to be Melissa's chastiser. 
Suddenly eyes turned away as Sharon Holden was led through the
training room door escorted by two prison warders.  Still
looking exceptionally attractive, even in her distress, the
statuesque beauty, wearing her schoolgirl uniform, which
looked absurdly like fancy dress on her, was led to Sergeant
Marlowe who handed her the cane, with a slight sarcastic smile
and bow!  The Governor had decided on this variation on the
normal procedures in view of the nature of the offence.

  Sharon bit her lips and actually managed to look rather
schoolgirlish, but both she and Melissa knew what must happen
now.  She took up position behind and slightly to the left of
her cellmate's exposed posterior.

  "Are you ready, Lascelles?" asked the sergeant.

  There was a half-audible grunt, but no intelligible answer.

  "I asked are you ready?" repeated the sergeant.  This time
he emphasised his answer with a sharp slap to Melissa's left
cheek.  A red hand print quickly formed on Melissa's
sensitive, delicate flesh.

  "Yes!  OK.  I'm ready!" Melissa responded, her voice
sounding strange.

  The sergeant was not satisfied.  "Yes, what?  I'm ready,
what?" he demanded and the right side of Melissa's rear
received a stinging slap in its turn.  Melissa wriggled in
discomfort and her legs parted, giving the gaping males in the
audience their first glimpse of her pubic hair and her most
secret and intimate places.

  "Yes, sir! I'm ready, sir!" came the sullen answer. 
Contended, the sergeant stepped back.  "Very well, Holden, you
may begin!" he says.

  Grim faced, Sharon lifted the cane.  She didn't want to hurt
her new friend but she had been told that if it was decided
after the punishment that she did not cane Melissa just as
hard as she was able to then Melissa would receive additional
strokes to make up, and her own punishment would be likewise
extended.  So not only would she be doing Melissa no favours
by restricting the force of her efforts, but her own bottom
would suffer for it.

  Bearing this in mind Sharon hefted the cane.  Melissa
pressed her legs back together again and clenched her bottom
tight.  Her chastiser was a tall, athletic and perfectly fit
young woman and in her hands the cane hissed through the air
at tremendous speed.  Only to be instantaneously arrested in
its descent as it made contact with Melissa's fleshy cheeks
with a tremendous THWACKK!

  Bravely Melissa did not cry out, but her first ever stroke
of the cane has clearly been felt.  Those near the front of
the room heard her sharp gasp as the pain bit home and saw the
trembling in her bottom increase.  An ugly red weal sprang up
across the plump cheeks.

  Sharon did not give the audience much time to note these
effects.  Almost immediately she raised the cane again and
lashed it down for the second time.  An instant before it made
contact Melissa's buttocks contracted at the awful hissing
sound.  The cane slashed into the tender flesh, wrapping
itself lissomely around her haunches.  Sharon had no training
in the art of using a cane, but she was doing very well!  A
second vivid line appeared about an inch below the first and
parallel to it.  Melissa grunted loudly but managed to remain
in position.

  Sharon did not direct the third stroke so well.  It, too,
bit deeply into the younger girl's plump, yielding flesh, but
it landed diagonally, crossing the smarting marks left by its
two predecessors.  This time Melissa did yelp in pain and kick
her legs frantically.  But she straight away resumed her
position.  Melissa was a weak and unlikable character in many
ways but now she was showing courage.

  Three more strokes followed, each of equal venom, and the
whole area of Melissa's bottom was swollen and sore, before
the sergeant turned to Sharon and said, "Right.  That's six,
Holden!  You can stop now."

  Sharon stepped back.  She was heartbroken at the pain she
had had to cause her friend and at the realisation that her
own behind was soon to suffer as much, or more.

  "Stand up, Lascelles!"

  Painfully the caned girl straightened.  She was very close
to tears and had to force herself to keep her hands by her
side rather than to massage her blazing bottom.  She was only
too aware that her punishment had just begun.

  "Lift up your panties!"

  Melissa bent down, supporting herself on the desk with one
hand and gasping as she did so.  She grasped the blue school
panties and tried to manipulate them upwards.  They had been
tight before, but now it was sheer agony trying to stretch
them over her swollen flesh.  The audience heard Melissa's
squeaks and squeals as she cautiously wriggled her way into
the tight panties.  Then the prison officers present all
applauded.  They knew that that was the end of the
entertainment so far as they were concerned.

  But it was not the end for Melissa.  Far from it.  Once
again Sergeant Marlowe grasped Melissa by her ear and marched
her briskly out of the room.  Her skirt was still pinned up
and everyone could see the marks left by the cane where they
were not covered by her panties.  And following them came
Sharon, still carrying the cane and escorted by the two
warders.

  Walking was very painful to the caned Melissa and she was
just on the point of giving way and clasping her throbbing
buttocks with her hands when she was roughly propelled into
the second of the four training rooms.

   Once again it was filled with a keenly interested audience. 
Melissa reluctantly lowered herself across the lecturer's desk
and the sergeant again drew down her panties.  He did not take
any care about Melissa's weals and she squealed an ineffective
protest.  If his hand did take the opportunity for a quick
feel of the offending girl's bottom few of the watching staff
would blame him.  But there was a collective gasp as Melissa's
bottom was fully revealed with its pattern of weals and the
first signs of the severe bruising manifesting themselves.

   Sharon applied the cane with the same degree of force but
Melissa did not take this second instalment of her punishment
so bravely as she had the first.  She rode the first two quite
well, despite yelling at each, but by now no stroke was
hitting unwealed flesh.  At the third she gave vent to a
veritable shriek of agony and writhed in pain, wildly kicking
back her legs before frantically rubbing her thighs together. 
The whole room heard her burst into tears and begin to sob
loudly.

  Sharon stepped back, horrified at the effect of that last
stroke, and made no further effort to continue the punishment. 
"Come on, Holden," encouraged one of the warders, "think about
your own arse!"

  Unwillingly Sharon continued to savagely scourge her
friend's derriŠre, an anguished cry of pain now following each
stroke of the cane.

  This time when she was told to stand up after the sixth
stroke Melissa immediately cupped the cheeks of her
hindquarters in the palms of her hands.  Groaning with pain
she slowly began to massage the swollen flesh.  She extended
her fingers to cover the whole area and, with her thumbs
extended towards her hips, she very gently pressed her hands
to her backside, using the tips of her fingers to separate, at
the base, her vividly marked buttocks.

  The normally vain and snobbish girl continued to massage her
violently stinging rear, oblivious to the fact that her
actions were exposing to the lecherous stares of the male part
of her audience the whole of the crevice between her buttocks. 
But this only lasts until the sergeant once more ordered her
to pull up those tight panties.

  This time Melissa just yanked them up.  It hurt so much
already that a bit more doesn't seem to matter.  Then it was
on to the third training room.

  By now Sharon was acting like a caning automaton.  Trying
not to think of the effect of each stroke on Melissa she
merely lifted the cane, aimed it and then lashed it down as
hard as she could.  It was after the second stroke of this
section (the fourteenth overall) that Melissa's resistance
disappeared.

  She straightened and hopped up and down on the training room
floor, her hands covering her bottom.  It was an involuntary
act.  She knew there was no way that she would be let off the
rest of her punishment, but she just couldn't stay in place
any more as the already unbearable pain in her rear continued
to get worse and worse.

  Angrily the sergeant grabbed her hands and forced her back
down over the desk.  He called one of the male warders to hold
her down and looked towards Mrs Chambers for directions.  "Two
penalty strokes, officer," she ordered.

  Sergeant Marlowe removed his uniform jacket and rolled his
right shirt sleeve up to his elbow.  Then he took the cane
from Sharon and told her to stand back.  He spat on his hands
and laid on the two hardest strokes Melissa had received that
day, aiming them expertly to land one on top of the other just
above the girl's thighs.  The effect on Melissa was
devastating.  Her screams were heartbreaking and the warder
needed all his strength to hold her in place.  The sergeant
handed the cane back to Sharon with another bow.

  Tough as she was Sharon was now crying quietly in sympathy
with her lover.  Regardless she had to try to close her ears
to the wild despairing howls of pain as she delivered the last
four strokes.  Sharon's arm was aching now and these strokes
were less hard than the earlier ones.  Nevertheless they still
whipped down hard and bit deeply into Melissa's sensitive
bottom.

  Finally this instalment too was over.  When released Melissa
did not stand up but remained draped over the desk sobbing
bitterly until jerked up by the sergeant, who then ordered her
to pull up her panties again.

  Once more the sobbing girl, blue school skirt still pinned
up, scarcely able to walk, was manhandled down the corridors
and into the final training room, the largest of the four.  As
she was dragged to the large desk she had to pass a large
wooden structure fixed to the floor.  In her wretched state
Melissa did not realise what it was.  But Sharon knew only too
well.  It was the whipping bench over which she would have to
bend to receive her own punishment.  She had spent much of the
morning screwing it firmly into place with two smiling warders
watching her.

   Melissa had now received her full allocation of eighteen
strokes, plus two extra.  Nevertheless she was made to bend
over the desk as in the other rooms.  At a sign from the
Governor one of the warders went round to hold her firmly in
place.  The sergeant pulled down her panties over her swollen
and inflamed bottom for the final time.  Then he, Mrs
Chambers, the Deputy Governor and the Matron gathered round to
decide whether Sharon had been too lenient with her
punishment.

  The discussions took some time and involved much feeling and
slapping of Melissa's bottom to establish its condition.  Even
in her anguish Melissa was aware of the acute humiliation. 
She and Sharon could both hear the arguments as the officials
decided whether their bottoms should receive further strokes. 
Sergeant Marlowe felt that Sharon had been far too gentle and
that some of her strokes had been merely taps.  He thought
that a further six strokes should be ordered.

  Mrs Chambers felt that Sharon, although tiring towards the
end as was only natural, had done her best and that Melissa
had received a very sound caning.  In her opinion no further
strokes were necessary.  The Deputy Governor agreed with the
Governor but believed that another two strokes should be
administered to compensate for the lack of power in Sharon's
last few strokes.  The Matron did not venture an opinion as to
Sharon's performance but said that, in her opinion, Melissa's
bottom could take another four strokes.

  Finally it was decided to accept the Deputy Governor's
proposal.  The sergeant removed his jacket and rolled up his
shirt sleeve once more.  Sharon handed the cane to him,
glumly.  She had, unwillingly, done her best and despite that
she now had two strokes of the cane to look forward to in
addition to her own birching.

  The final two strokes of Melissa's punishment were laid on
from opposite sides and diagonally so as to cover her entire
bottom and to cross all the earlier strokes.  It was fortunate
that Melissa was firmly held but she howled wildly and kicked
out furiously.

    Dawn Chatfield, one of the girls in the front row of the
audience, was horrified at the state of Melissa's bottom and
at the violence of Sergeant Marlowe's cane strokes.  This was
Dawn's first day at Norton Parva and, at just sixteen, she was
one of the youngest girls there.  Dawn had been convicted of
pushing cannabis at the school she attended as a fifth former. 
Like Melissa she had expected a fine or a suspended sentence,
but the magistrate had decided on a 'short, sharp shock' and
she had been given three months at Norton Parva.  When the
final stroke contacted the howling girl's juddering buttocks
it was too much for Dawn and she fainted.

   Dawn was carried back to her cell and placed on her bunk. 
A warder stood by her, strap in hand.   When Dawn revived she
was bent over and given six hard lashes to remind her not to
be so much trouble in future.

  After the brief diversion caused by Dawn the sergeant jerked
Melissa upright and quickly and efficiently handcuffed her
hands in front of her before she could try to put them to her
bottom.  Then he dragged the weeping girl to a corner of the
room and chained the handcuffs to a metal ring fixed into the
wall. The ring was about six feet up and Melissa had to
stretch on tiptoe.  He slipped her panties off over her feet. 
Everybody in the room had a good sight of the girl's caned
bottom with its awful marks.  Melissa continued to squeal and
gasp and hop about so far as she could, wriggling her body
like a corkscrew, still crying like a baby.

  Sergeant Marlowe turned to Sharon.  "Over the desk, Holden!"
he said.  "It's your turn now!"

  Sharon turned and lowered herself over the desk, grasping
its other side.  She was much taller than Melissa and, as he
turned her skirt up and pinned it into place, the sergeant
warned her to keep her legs straight.  He rolled her panties
all the way down her long legs, enjoying the feel of the warm,
yielding flesh and the smell of Sharon's fear.  He made her
step out of the panties - she would not be needing them again
for quite a while.

  Sergeant Marlowe laid on Sharon's two strokes with as much
force as he had Melissa's.  Both landed right across the
centre of Sharon's large bottom.  Despite her many previous
canings the tall girl could not withhold a gasp of pain as the
second stroke landed directly on top of the first.   The
sergeant grabbed hold of Sharon by her short blonde hair and
jerked her upright.

  Mrs Chambers signalled to a warder by the door who went out
and returned bearing a bucket of water from which the handles
of three large birch rods protruded.  Sharon watched
tight-lipped, oblivious to her half naked state, but resisting
the temptation to press her hands to her stinging bottom, as
the sergeant slowly drew out the rods one at a time, shook
them to remove the excess water and then carefully wrapped
them in damp cloths before placing them on the top of the
front desk.

  Like most of the girls there Sharon had never seen a birch
before.  She knew that a few girls had been punished in this
way while she'd been at Norton Parva, but these punishments
had been carried out in private.  Her first cellmate, Mandy
Lobell, had received six strokes of the birch for striking a
warder before Sharon had arrived at the unit.  Mandy, a softly
pretty eighteen year old, never talked about the punishment
but Sharon remembered how her bottom had still been marked,
over six months after her birching, with a delicate tracery of
tiny white scars.  Mandy's birching had certainly been
effective and when Sharon knew her she was quiet and subdued
and careful about keeping to the rules, just biding time until
her release.  But, according to the other girls, she had been
as vivacious as anyone else - before her flogging.

  The birch rods looked most formidable.  Each one was made up
of about twelve supple birch twigs about three feet long.  One
end was bound to form a handle of about a foot in length,
while at the other end the twigs spread out to be about five
inches in diameter.

    The sergeant turned his attention to Holden, "Over the
bench, Holden!" he ordered.

  The whipping bench was an upright wooden structure, secured
to the floor and with a padded leather top which sloped at an
angle so that the offender to be birched could be bent over
the apex and her arms and legs secured by straps attached to
the four uprights.  Her face pale but determined Sharon leaned
forward across the bench allowing her arms and legs to be
pinioned.  Her large, but beautifully proportioned, buttocks
were fully exposed.  Sharon had received two biting strokes of
the cane but only one weal could be seen pulsating across the
centre of her lovely bottom, its dark vivid colour contrasting
with the rest of the smooth white flesh.  Both strokes had
landed in so much the same place that the weals had completely
coalesced into one.

  The Governor gave a signal and Sergeant Marlowe took up the
first birch, shaking it a few times to get rid of any last few
drops of water.  Then he moved over to the side of the bench
to take aim.  As Sharon felt the sharp presence of a dozen
prickly twigs being drawn across her naked flesh she cringed
involuntarily.

  The sergeant raised the birch high into the air.  He had
delivered dozens of birchings to male backsides but Sharon's
was only the second female bottom he had had to punish in this
way.  He felt that it was his duty, if ordered to do so, to
birch a woman in the same way and with the same degree of
intensity as he would a man.  This, however, did not prevent
him from finding it a powerfully erotic experience.  With a
practised swing he administered the first cut.

  As the cruel twigs spread out over Sharon's firm buttocks a
hiss of pain escaped the girl's lips and a red flush of tiny
weals appeared standing out vividly against the white flesh. 
Her whole body convulsed in a spasm of pain as twigs tore in
to the raised welt bringing back the original sting tenfold
and producing small globules of blood.  As she tried to ready
herself for the next stroke Sharon was already aware that the
birch was a very much more painful instrument than even the
cane.

  Sergeant Marlowe was an expert at his task.  He knew that
each stroke of the birch spread over a considerable area of
the buttocks and was careful to ensure that each stroke fell
in exactly the right area between waist and the tops of the
thighs.  He reckoned that he could cover the entire area in
three strokes.  He measured each stroke carefully, allowing
about ten seconds between each stroke.

    By the time the first six strokes had been administered
Sharon was bucking in the straps which held her and sweating
profusely, her face distraught with the pain.  Her bottom was
well wealed from hips to thighs so that it would have looked
to someone entering the room that she was wearing red panties.

  It was now time for Sergeant Marlowe to hand over the
responsibility for the remainder of the punishment.  He was
rather reluctant to do so, but on the other hand he reckoned
that six with the birch laid on by him was a severe punishment
for anyone.  He thought that he had already given young Miss
Holden enough to ensure that she wouldn't be able to sit down
in any comfort for at least a week.  He threw the birch rod
casually into a bin, retrieved his jacket and went to stand
over near the door.

  Peter Campbell, one of the male warders, came forward and
picked up the second birch.  The Scotsman was not such an
expert as the sergeant but made up for it by sheer brute
force.  He stood on the other side from that on which Sergeant
Marlowe had stood to ensure that both Sharon's bottom cheeks
would feel the full power of the flogging.  The birch lashed
down with a frightful swish across poor Sharon's agonisingly
sore behind and the poor girl screamed in absolute agony.

  Fragments of the birch embedded themselves deep in her flesh
and other bits flew off, together with droplets of blood, and
were felt by the watching girls at the front of the audience. 
Sharon screamed and struggled at each successive cut but was
securely held in position by the straps at her arms and legs.

  After his sixth stroke, the twelfth overall, Mr Campbell
threw away the birch and the Governor herself walked forward. 
She had decided to apply the last six strokes of Sharon's
punishment herself.  Before picking up the birch she made a
short speech warning the other inmates to take advantage of
Melissa's and Sharon's experiences and to keep to the
reformatory rules unless they wanted to experience the cane
and birch for themselves.  She had to raise her voice so as to
be heard over Sharon's loud sobs as the heaved unavailingly in
her bonds.  Melissa had stopped crying by now, but she
continued to whimper in pain and dance from foot to foot.

  Mrs Chambers walked round the bench next to Sharon and
roughly pulled her head up by her hair so that she looked her
in the face.  "Six strokes to come, Holden!  Not very pleasant
is it?"  Then she turned in disgust and went over to pick up
the last of the three birches.

  Mrs Chambers was experienced in the use of the birch on the
bottoms of wayward young women.  She carried out the internal
punishments and it had been she who had birched Mandy Lobell,
Sharon's ex-cellmate so effectively.

  Sharon drew several quick deep breaths as she tried
hopelessly to compose herself for the half dozen remaining
strokes.  Mrs Chambers measured the distance and lightly
touched the birch to Sharon's bottom.  She winced at even this
light touch on her tender skin and as the birch swished down
yet again a loud cry was forced from her lips and her whole
body jerked desperately in its restraints in an effort to
avoid the curling twist.

  The strokes followed evenly, the swish of the birch and the
thwack as it landed on the buttocks punctuated by the piercing
cries of the hapless recipient.  At last it was over.  Mrs
Chambers threw down the birch, leaving Sharon still struggling
in her leather bonds and sobbing as if she would never stop. 
The marks of the birch on her bottom showed clearly and
painfully just how severe had been her ordeal.

  The governor made all of the inmates present file past both
girls so as to get a close look at both pairs of battered
buttocks.  If any of them wanted to touch the girls' flesh
they were not prevented.  When all the other girls had left
Mrs Chambers called Sergeant Marlowe back over.   He untied
the leather thongs and quickly handcuffed Sharon as he had
Melissa.  He pulled Sharon upright, but her legs would not
support her weight.  Two officers half-dragged and
half-carried her to an isolation cell.  Melissa was also taken
to an isolation cell at the opposite side of the unit.  The
cells had a bucket for use as a toilet and one wooden chair
each, but no bed.  Both girls were left there overnight with
no food and no change of clothing to meditate on their
behaviour and its effects.

  Neither girl had any sleep that night.  Next morning a
warder visited them and gave them each a new set of the unit
uniform.  They had to dress and shower and were then taken
into breakfast with the other girls.  They were not allowed to
stand up for the meal and both girls had to grit their teeth
and ignore the pain of sitting on their well-punished bottoms.

  By coincidence Mr and Mrs Scott-Lascelles visited Melissa
that day and were taken aback at the sight of their pampered
little daughter struggling to fight back her tears and unable
to sit down properly.  She had to tell her parents that she'd
been caned but was too embarrassed to tell them the reason. 
"I did deserve it," she tearfully confessed, "but my bottom
hurts so terribly!"

  As they drove away Ralph Scott-Lascelles said to his wife,
"I think a sore bottom is just what that young madam needs. 
If you'd let me spank her when she was at home, perhaps she
wouldn't be in that place!"

*                          *                            *

Sharon kept well out of Melissa's way after her painful
experience and her behaviour for the rest of her term at
Norton Parva was much improved.  Nevertheless she was sent to
the Governor for punishment on two further occasions and was
very relieved that she only got six and nine strokes of the
cane applied over her school type panties.

  Melissa made more friends among the other girls after her
ordeal.  She kept out of serious trouble, just getting the
normal, unavoidable, strappings.  Her one caning came when
Lynda Attwood, her new cellmate, stole some biscuits from the
staff room and shared them with her.  Both girls were sent to
Mrs Chambers.  Lynda, who at thirty five was one of the oldest
inmates, was given twelve strokes on her bare bottom.  Her
punishment was in public with three strokes being administered
in each of the four training rooms.  The less guilty Melissa
was let off with six over her panties in the privacy of the
Governor's office.

  But, just two days before her release, Melissa stupidly got
involved in a scheme to smuggle alcohol into the unit.  The
culprits were discovered and sent to the Governor.  The other
girls involved were given extensions to their sentences
ranging from four weeks to six months.  In view of the
imminence of Melissa's release Mrs Chambers gave her the
option of a further two months at Norton Parva or six strokes
of the birch.

  It was an awful choice and Melissa took a while to make up
her mind, but she just had to get back to the outside as soon
as possible.  Mrs Chambers, rather spitefully, delayed the
infliction of the punishment until the morning of Melissa's
release.

  When Melissa was taken from the Governor's office after her
birching, weeping with the pain and humiliation, her bottom
ablaze with an unprecedented stinging, she found her own
clothes, which she had last worn a year before in a vain
effort to influence the jury and judge, laid out on her bunk. 
It took her a long time to manoeuvre her lacy white panties,
so different from those horrid school-type panties over her
swollen buttocks.  She decided not to try to put on her
pantyhose.  As she dressed, pausing from time to time as the
smarting in her rear became too insistent, she ruefully
reflected on how much she had looked forward to this day, and
how painful the reality was.  She waited for her parents in
the secretary's office, holding her painful bottom through the
back of her tight green skirt, like a naughty schoolgirl.  How
that birch had hurt!

   And when Mr and Mrs Scott-Lascelles picked up their erring
daughter she winced and squealed in pain as she settled
herself on the yielding leather seat of her father's Jaguar
and said goodbye to Norton Parva for ever.