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It was a long time ago that I discovered the availability of CP pictures on the internet. More recently I have sought to write stories that might account for those pictures. I am fully aware that many of them come from a completely different background. Indeed in some cases I was already aware of that setting so please don't complain if you feel I've taken liberties. I intended to.
If the reader would like a copy of the picture for any stories in my "Inspired By Pictures" series, please drop me an email with a request and statement of which picture you need and I will try to send it. Many came from the now defunct site which was run for a long time by Johnny in Holland. These are in bitmap form and so are of fair size. I have tried changing them but always succeed in losing some quality and so I will send them as they are.
Picture Name: judicial caning
Joseph Stanford was visiting his old friend, William Booth. William's father had been a keen member of the Salvation Army and this accounted for the Christian name he had been given.
William glanced at the evening paper and said, "Just look at that!"
"What?"
"Bloody teenagers on the rampage. Something ought to be done about it."
Joseph replied, "At home there's a group that is doing something about it."
"What can you do?"
"Catch a few of them and give them a _d_a_m_n_ed good caning."
"That's against the law, isn't it?"
"They don't object. For them, a bloody sore arse will be better than being up in court again. We've got a parallel group that will help them go straight if they want to. Most of them sign on for that as well."
William said, "You said, 'we'. I take it you're involved?"
"I sure am. We catch a lot in car parks trying to steal cars for joyriding. I could introduce you to several that are going straight now and doing well."
I guess we could do with something like that round here but there's another problem I'd really like to have sorted."
Joseph asked, "What's that?"
"It's a guy called Gary Jarvis. I don't know why the police haven't nobbled him unless he's got some sort of contact with them who tips him off. Lots of us know what he's up to. Repeated burglary and other thieving, usually helpless old people who are either out and come back to have their hearts broken when they see their homes or who get scared out of their minds if they're in."
"What would be the chance of catching him at it if a group of us came up?"
"Fairly good, I guess. It's usually Friday nights when he operates. He usually drinks in the Ploughman so he could be directed by some "careless" talk to a particular house. If it's made attractive enough, I think he'd be certain to be there."
"I'll see what I can set up for you. What does he go for?"
"Money, valuables, videos, televisions, anything valuable & portable."
"Is there a house we can use as a base?"
"Yes. There's my Gran's old house. She's just going into a home. We'll be emptying it soon after and then putting it on the market."
"When's that happening?"
"She's going in a week on Wednesday."
"Right. You'll have a date. Don't clear it until after the weekend, or get it on the market. We don't want estate agents' signs all over it. Does he know the house?"
"I doubt it. He usually operates on the other side of town. That's where he lives."
Thus it was that Gary Jarvis thought that it was Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one as he overheard a conversation which was actually designed for his ears but which came across as something entirely innocent. Two men were talking. One was obviously a stranger and the other a local.
The stranger asked, "Do you know where Mafeking Street is?"
"Yes. You know New Road on the other side of town?"
"Yes."
"Well it's about the third on the right going down there. What on earth do you want with Mafeking Street?"
"My Gran moved there last year. It's not all that bad is it?"
"Depends what end you're talking about. Half of it's not bad. The other half is due for demolition."
"She lives at number twenty three. I know it's terraced, but I didn't think it would be too bad."
"That end's ok. They've all been done up as far as twenty five and twenty six. Both sides of the road. Are you just calling on her?"
"No. There's a family do to celebrate her eightieth birthday. I'm bringing her a new video. I know my brother's got a television set and the rest are bringing her other goodies. Then we take her out for a party tomorrow night. We've booked a hotel room for her so she won't be getting back home shattered."
Gary did not need to hear anything more. He made a mental note of the address and the fact that it would be stuffed with goodies and unoccupied. He knew where he would be later on during the following evening.
On Friday, long before he was likely to be around, a group of members of the Committee for the Alteration of Negative Elements, better known by its initials, C. A.N. E. assembled in the terraced house. As luck would have it, the neighbours on both sides went out. Then, in case Gary was watching, a car arrived, driven by the stranger of the previous night. He went to the front door which was opened before he had time to knock.
He said, "Were you watching for me, Gran?"
The old lady replied, "Of course I was. I want to get to my party."
She locked the front door and soon the two were driving off.
Gary had actually been watching. As soon as the car was out of sight, he went to the front door, rang the bell and knocked. There was no response, of course, but it was a precaution well worth taking. Someone could have been left behind. He wanted to know whether he was dealing with an occupied house or an empty one.
He moved away and went up the entry leading to the backs of the houses. He saw with satisfaction that there were no lights on in his target house or in either of the ones attached to it. He went to the back door and put his gloves on. Then he turned the door handle, more as a matter of habit than in expectation of an easy entry. This evening he was in luck. The door opened.
He said under his breath, "The stupid fool's left it unlocked. It makes it easier, but at least she won't have to pay to get the door or a window mended."
Gary felt quite proud that he had so much consideration for his intended victim. He went in quietly and closed the door. He took his torch from his pocket and looked around. He was in the kitchen. He went into the next room and almost jumped out of his skin when a voice said, "Stay just where you are. You are outnumbered and we are armed."
He felt a cloth bag pulled over his head and elastic in its edge tightened around his neck. Then his arms were taken back and handcuffs were attached. He was a prisoner and he knew it. Scared but not quite in control of his thought processes, he said, "What the _f_u_c_k_ing hell's going on?"
"Just keep quiet until we're organised and you'll find out what's going on. And keep a civil tongue in your head as well. Any more language like that and you'll be in even deeper trouble."
He felt himself being pushed down onto a chair. Simultaneously, both legs were tied to the chair legs. Thus immobilised, his captors felt it safe to remove his shoes. Then he was pushed forward and the handcuffs removed. His seat was a wooden arm chair such as might be found at the head of a dining table. His arms were tied onto the two arms of the chair. His securing was completed with two straps, one round the top of his legs and under the seat and the other at the lower part of his trunk and round the back of the chair. Only then was the blindfolding bag removed from his head.
Gary blinked at the light into which he was suddenly plunged. He looked around and saw at least four hefty men, all in fairly anonymous tracksuits and wearing balaclava helmets and masks.
One stood in front of him. "You have a simple choice. Co-operate with us or we can call the police. You made an illegal entry here with the intention of stealing. On many occasions in the past you have committed similar offences. The police would dearly love to get their hands on you, and would be even more pleased that you've been caught red-handed. Do you want us to deal with you, or the police?"
"It's obvious. I don't want the police. What do you want?"
"I suppose it's three things. One is that this orgy of theft and burglary ceases for good. The second is that we have a list of every place you've stolen from and you make arrangements to repay the value of what's been stolen, if necessary over years and the third is that you are severely punished for that has happened."
Gary replied, "I've still got quite a lot of what I was nicking at home and I can repay it now. I've got more than enough in the bank."
"What were you stealing for, if you don't need the money?"
"To be honest, it was just for kicks. I started about six months ago when my girlfriend left me. I suppose I had to try to prove to myself that I could do something."
"And it never occurred to you to think of the weak and vulnerable people you were leaving scared stiff?"
"Not really. Not till you mention it now. Then it makes me feel like a bit of a _s_h_i_t_. What did you mean by me being severely punished?"
"You get your arse well and truly caned. Not a school punishment. One you'll notice and remember for the rest of your life."
Gary replied, "Even that will be better than being locked up in gaol. What do you want me to do?"
"As a start, we'll release your arms and you can write down every place you' ve burgled and a list of what you took from each one. Make sure that the list is complete. We probably don't know them all, but we know enough and if one we know about isn't there, your arse will pay even more. In fact, if it gets too high, it'll be your shoulders getting a whipping as well as your arse under the cane."
"What do you want the list for? You aren't handing it to the police, are you?"
"I told you that if you co-operate with us we'll keep the whole affair between us. We need to know who you've nicked stuff from so that we can make sure they all get recompensed."
"How can I do that without getting the police onto me?"
"You can choose who you want. We've got a list of clergymen who will act as go-betweens for you."
Gary had his arms released and set to his task of remembering every incident. That completed, the bag went over his head again, and this time the cord was tied making quick removal impossible. With that effective blindfold he was unlikely to struggle and was unable to achieve much if he tried to. He was released from his chair and handcuffed again. Together, the entire party went upstairs.
The spokesman said, "We need you stripped. It'll be easier for you and us if you do it yourself but we can manage if you won't co-operate."
"I'll do it but get this bloody bag off my head please."
"All in good time. We'll take your handcuffs off. You can get your clothes off without needing to see. If you're worried about your clothes being untidy, we'll sort them if you drop them onto the floor."
Gary knew that he had no option. Slowly, he undressed until he was standing in his Y-fronts.
"They can come off as well."
Gary stood trembling. "Can't I have the bag off please? I'm really scared stiff."
"Why?" The question was not demanding but almost sympathetic.
"It was ages ago now, but a couple of guys got me and raped me. I'll be ok if I can see, but you'll have to take my underpants off just now. I daren' t."
"You're going to be punished by the caning, but we don't indulge in mental torture. You can take the bag off. The cord's knotted at the front."
Gary unfastened the cord, pulled it open and took the bag off. He looked round and said, "Thanks. I'll be ok now."
He pushed his fingers into the top of his Y-fronts and pushed them down.
"Now, no funny business like trying to escape. I know you aren't too likely to try anything with nothing on, but just be warned. You'll be taken to the toilet. Empty your bladder and, if necessary, your bowels. Don't close the door but we'll all be out of sight so that you can have some privacy."
When he had finished, he was taken to another bedroom, this time on the back of the house.
"Over here, please."
The obvious leader pointed to a wooden contraption and added, "In view of your previous experience, only one of us will be out of your sight at a time and you'll be able to see him by turning your head if you want to. You'll have to be secured for your punishment and we don't want you worrying about being raped."
The piece of furniture he was being required to occupy was a sort of trestle with a flat surface and sloping attachments at one end. It assumed that those attachments were to support his legs and he went down. At the other end, his arms fell along other legs. True to the word that he had been given, two men stood away in front of him, one attached leather straps around his wrists, holding his arms in place.
From behind him he heard a voice saying, "I'm just securing your legs. I won 't be touching you any more than I can help."
After his legs had been secured, he was warned that his waist would also be fastened. Once secure, all four men stood in front of him.
The leader said, "You will receive twenty five strokes. They will be spaced out to enable you to try to take them with dignity. In addition, there will be a rest for you after the eighth and sixteenth. Both as a mark of your appreciation of the efforts we are taking on your behalf and also to indicate that you are ready for the next stroke, you will say "Thank you, sir" after each stroke. We will give you a fair time to do so, but don't push your luck by extending the gap indefinitely. If it's too long you'll get another one which won't count towards the total. Do you understand?"
Gary replied, "Yes, sir."
"Just one other thing. It'll be difficult but the more you can relax the better you will be able to take it. If your bum is very tense, the cane strokes will hurt a lot more."
Gary replied, "I think I can see what you mean, but relaxing isn't all that easy. Thanks for mentioning it though."
"Very well. Prepare for punishment."
Gary thought this was a warning to him until he saw that it had been addressed to one of the other men. He collected a cane from the nearby table. It was probably about four feet long and thicker than Gary had expected a cane to be. He saw the man flex the cane several times. It was bendier than he had expected.
The leader looked down and said, "Are you ready?"
Gary hesitated and then said, "As ready as I'll ever be."
"Strike one!"
Gary looked round and saw the man with the cane rest it just above his seat as he took aim. He watched in horror as it was taken back and then it was driven down with all the power the man could muster.
Thwwaccck!
A wave of pain surged from the line of contact. Gary was almost convinced that his rump had been cut open. Pain filled his entire being. He gasped in anguish.
He thought, "Hell! Two dozen more! I'll never stick it out!"
Then he realised that he was strapped down and would have no choice.
He took a deep breath, tried to relax and said, "Thank you, sir."
He had a few more seconds before the leader said, "Strike two!"
This time, Gary concentrated on getting as ready as he could to take it.
Once again there was the sound of a cane rushing through the air before the simultaneous sound of the crash into his rump and the overwhelming surge of pain which it produced.
Thwwaccck!
Gary forced himself to calm down.
He said, "Thank you, sir."
He must have been early that time for it was a good fifteen to twenty seconds before the leader said, "Strike three!"
Again, Gary tried to relax and again the cane struck.
Thwwaccck!
The now familiar surge of pain. This one was worse for it struck along the line of a previous cut. Gary took a deep breath and said, "Thank you, sir."
The caning had moved into a regular routine. In turn, the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth strokes were applied and each time Gary offered his thanks.
The leader said, "Stand down."
The man with the cane placed it on the table and moved to join his companions.
The leader said, "Well done, Peter. Good power for every stroke but you've avoided breaking the skin."
He looked at Gary and said, "Some countries still use the cane as judicial punishment. Singapore is one and they are notorious because the do it with such power that the offender's arse is badly split, usually on the first or second stroke. That can scar the guy for life and it means that later strokes aren't just on bruises. They are on actual cuts."
Gary replied, "Thanks for not doing it like that. I couldn't have done anything about it if you'd wanted to. This way it still bloody hurts."
The leader replied, "It's going to hurt more as well, I'm afraid. He spread those out quite well. They were almost all on fresh areas. From now on, the strokes will either be on or close to other strokes. Now that we've started, how do you feel about it?"
Gary replied, "It's my own fault. I was bound to get caught in the end and it's only fair that I get punished. You're doing that well, but this is better than getting a criminal record."
"We'll get on to the next session. Prepare for punishment."
Once again, that final instruction was addressed to a member of the team. It was a different man who collected a cane and went to Gary's side. This time, it was his right hand side. This one must either be using backhand or be left handed. Gary glanced round and saw the cane held in the left hand as the man took careful aim. Gary felt himself go tense and remembered the earlier advice. He tried to force himself to relax.
"Strike nine!" The instruction was given and again Gary heard the sound of the caning speeding through the air before its arrival.
Thwwaccck!
He could not prevent a gasp being forced from his mouth. The pain was far higher. Possibly the break has sensitised his rump or, more likely, it was simply that that stroke fell along an already bruised area. He took a deep breath, relaxed as far as he could and said, "Thank you, sir."
Another pause and then, "Strike ten!"
Thwwaccck!
Gary absorbed the pain and said, "Thank you, sir."
Eleven, twelve and thirteen followed. After Gary offered his thanks for that stroke, the leader said, "You're doing well. That one gets you past the half way mark."
After the sixteenth, the leader again said, "Stand down."
It was with relief that Gary saw the man with the cane come back into view and replace the weapon. His rump felt as though it had swollen to twice its normal size and was blazing hot. He knew that it was still due to be assaulted another nine times.
He asked, "Do we have to have as long a pause as this. It seemed to make my arse a lot more sensitive."
The leader replied, "It might do that but that's not why we do it. There's no way of us knowing who would be badly affected but being caned can make a guy's blood pressure go up. We've been advised that the breaks give it a chance to lower a bit and reduce the risk of its getting too high. Don't ask to have the break reduced. You could be the sort who might collapse completely. We're aiming at corporal punishment, not capital."
"Ok. Thanks for explaining. I know I deserve it all but you're being really decent about the way you're doing it."
The leader said, "Something for you to be thinking about during the next session, and possibly bear in mind afterwards as well. After what happened to you, you know the effect that being raped has on a young man. One of the women who you robbed said that having her house violated like it had been was nearly as bad as being raped. What you were doing wasn't only taking property. You were making weak and vulnerable people feel insecure and unsafe even in their own homes."
He had a few more minutes to wait, think and possibly reduce his blood pressure.
Then he heard the words, "Prepare for punishment."
It was the fourth of the men who collected the cane this time.
Gary watched him move alongside and tried to relax.
"Strike seventeen!"
Again he heard the familiar sound of the cane's transit through the air and the sound of its arrival.
Thwwaccck!
This time, there was no gasp from Gary. It was a semi-strangled scream. He could not help it. The pain overwhelmed his entire body and mind. He could not see, but it felt that the stroke had been applied diagonally, thereby inevitably cutting across several others. Strangely, Gary felt that it was right that it should be as bad. He had been thinking about the hurt he had done to those old people and also thinking of the caning he would have like to have given to the guys who raped him. This was fair and right.
"Thank you, sir."
"Strike eighteen!"
Thwwaccck!
Gary had clamped his jaws together to avoid screaming again. It was right that he should take this punishment and he did not want pity to reduce the power of the strokes.
"Thank you, sir."
It went on through nineteen, twenty, twenty one, twenty two, twenty three, and twenty four.
"Thank you, sir."
There was only one to go. Gary was feeling that it was so justified that he had been tempted to say nothing and so receive an extra stroke. He had rejected the thought, not because he did not want the pain, but because he was strangely concerned that these men should think as well of him as possible.
The leader said, "When somebody takes their punishment well, we have a custom of overlooking the final stroke. I'm pleased to say that you have taken it well."
Gary replied, "I've been thinking about what you said in the last break. I deserve all you said I should have and more. My arse is bloody sore but I think I'd prefer to have what you said in the first place please."
"Very well. Strike twenty five! The final stroke."
Gary looked round at the man with the cane as the weapon was raised.
"Make it a good one, please."
"I will. Stand by."
Gary closed his eyes, tried to relax again and prayed that he could take it well.
Thwwaccck!
For the last time he felt his entire being filled with the anguish produced by the arrival of that cane. As the worst of the effect died down, he took a deep breath and, for the final time, said, "Thank you, sir."
Then he added, "That might sound like I was just doing it because you'd told me to. I'd like to thank all of you for being so decent and for the caning that I really deserved."
The leader said, "We'll release the straps. Don't get up until you are sure you'll be ok, and do it slowly."
Gary lay in position when he had been released. He moved his hands to his rump and cautiously held the afflicted area. Then he gently began to massage the weals and stripes.
The leader said, "We'll bring your clothes in and leave you to get dressed in private."
Gary said, "Can I have a word with you before I go please?"
"Of course. Do you prefer tea or coffee? We can have a drink ready for you."
"Coffee, please. Milk but no sugar."
"If you prefer, we can leave your clothes in the room where you undressed. There's a mirror in there. You'll be able to inspect the damage."
Gary forced a rueful smile and said, "Ok, thanks."
The group left him. Gary got to his feet and out of the door. He crossed the landing to the other bedroom. There he twisted to examine the weals and stripes which now decorated his rump. Then he dressed and went downstairs.
He knocked the door before going in and called out, "Just checking that you' ve still got your masks on. I think it will be better if I don't recognise you if we meet again."
He heard the leader's voice invite him in.
He declined the offer of a seat but accepted the coffee and took a sip.
"I prefer to stand at the moment thanks. I'd really like to thank you for what you did tonight. When you mentioned that it was a bit like what happened to me that really went home. I was at a wedding a few weeks ago and a funeral before that. I don't go to church but they were both at the Methodist Church. I think I can trust that minister. He's called Hardcastle if you want to check that I've repaid or returned what I owe. Look, I'm not badly off. I'll give the old folks a bit extra as well as an apology. Do you think a hundred pounds would be fair. I doubt if I can get much higher than that unless I put it off and it'll be better if it's sorted straightaway."
The leader said, "That'll be fine. I've got a feeling we won't need to check on you."
"I'd prefer you to, please. There's another favour as well. It probably sounds odd, but I think I'd feel better if I had another whacking like that one as well. You couldn't arrange to pick me up and give me one after I've cleared everything up, could you, please? I'd feel the account was really cleared if you do."
Behind his mask, the leader smiled. They'd had this request on one other occasion and had been happy to comply.
"I'm sure we can help you there. We do understand how you feel, but we'll check when you are picked up that you haven't changed your mind."
Gary left them, quite sure that he would never change his mind. The four men now had other things to deal with.