My first punishment as a convicted offender was due to take place at 1 pm sharp. Of course, I’d had experience of spanking before, but never in such an official setting. The court’s instructions also suggested that it was likely to be harsher than anything I’d experienced so far:
The court therefore expressly encourages the prison officer responsible for carrying out the punishment to administer it with unyielding severity, in order to persuade the offender to confess... As long as he remains unrepentant, the severity of the punishment may be increased by choosing a new instrument and/or by striking with greater force
Of course, I didn’t want to be late under any circumstances, so I was already standing outside the entrance to LUX at 12:40. It’s rare for us to arrive 20 minutes early. The next question: should I ring the bell at exactly 13:00, or should the punishment begin at 13:00 sharp, meaning I should ring a little earlier? I then decided on 12:59. As I then had to wait quite a long time before the door was opened, 13:00 would probably have been the right time. So I hurried up the stairs and rang the bell again. This time the door was opened promptly and standing before me was a lady dressed in an elegant yet provocative manner. My brief doubt as to whether she was my enforcement officer vanished immediately when she greeted me with: “You have something to hand over to me.” I immediately handed over the fine, which she acknowledged after a quick count with a simple “Follow me!” and strode briskly down the long corridor.
When we reached the punishment room, the next instruction: “Get undressed. And hurry up, we’ve got no time to lose.” Somewhat bewildered, I did my best to undress as quickly and as dignifiedly as possible in such a situation. As I stood naked before her, the next embarrassing moment came when my cock ring came into view: “Who put that on you?” “My boss,” I stammered. “I see,” she merely smiled. “Up onto the rack, quickly!” she snapped, snapping me out of my trance. No sooner had I lain down on it than my arms were chained to the massive steel cage in front of it, and I realised that things were getting serious and I had no choice but to endure the punishment that lay ahead. Without a word, she shackled my legs and back until I was completely immobilised.
She then read out the verdict, including the passages already quoted above, and asked if I would now confess. Defiant as I am, I refused.
From this point on, my memory becomes somewhat hazy. There were countless blows with various instruments, mostly in bursts of ten. I confessed relatively quickly, but as the court had ruled, this no longer had any mitigating effect. Nor did she take kindly to my confessions and pleas for forgiveness, and she repeatedly urged me to express my guilt and remorse more convincingly. To emphasise these demands, the bursts were increasingly extended to 20 or even 30 blows, until there was a brief pause to change instruments. Time and again I reached my limit when a particularly effective instrument was used. Motivated in this way, I finally managed to convince her with one of my admissions of guilt and pleas for forgiveness, so that towards the end she reached for a milder instrument, before delivering the final 10 strokes with full force.
“You’ve got a few bloody spots, I’ll disinfect you” is the next sentence I remembered. Still holding me down, she sprayed some disinfectant on my bottom, which stung only slightly, before she began to untie my restraints. As soon as I was free, the next command came: “Look at your bruised ar** in the mirror.” I did so, and it was truly impressively reddened with several welts, though they were no longer bleeding. No sooner had I caught a glimpse than the next instruction came: “Get dressed, we don’t have all day.” Even now, with my legs still a bit wobbly, I did my best to get dressed quickly and forgot the zip. Kindly, she pointed this out to me, noting that this could also be interpreted as indecency with corresponding consequences for me.
Just as quickly as on the way there, we made our way back to the door, and after a brief thank you for the deserved punishment, I was already back outside. As if in a trance, I wandered back to my car, which was parked some distance away. My bottom was warm, but didn’t burn too much. I felt within me that deep sense of satisfaction and relaxation that I only feel after such an intense spanking. Although, or perhaps precisely because, typical elements such as a preliminary discussion, aftercare and/or feedback after the session were missing, it was an intense and wonderful experience. It took me a few days to put what I had experienced into words. Despite my assurance that I would not have to return for this offence at least, I feel a strange urge to subject myself to this punishment ritual once more in the future. I’m sure I’ll find a reason ;-)
P.S.: It was only afterwards, upon asking Lady Velvet Steel, that I found out who my executioner was: Phantessa. A big thank you to her once again for what I consider to be the perfect execution of the punishment. I don’t think the whole atmosphere before, during and after the punishment could have been created any more realistically.
