by Susan Thomas
Mia, Mary's guide, was taking her to the visitors' parking lot where her sister was meeting her. Mary was down from the north to stay with her sister for a short holiday. Growing up where they had, the paddle was unknown, and Mary had been extremely curious. Now she knew and rubbed her bottom thoughtfully.
Mary smiled at Mia, and the two set off down the corridor towards the visitors' car park.
"I suppose you think we are all mad, don't you?"
Mia smiled gently, and replied with great tact. "It's not really for me to say, is it Ma'am?"
Mary smiled and nodded, sensing that the girl would never really open up about how she felt. Then Mia hesitantly asked a question.
"Would you mind me asking what exactly is this 'full experience' that you are going for? Haven't you already had the full experience?"
Mary smiled. "Well I can answer, but first tell me - have you been paddled here at school?"
"Sure I have, twice. Principal Wiley spanked me, three swats and four swats. After that I made sure it never happened again."
"And when you got home what happened?"
"Why, Daddy spanked me good and hard both times. 'Spanked at school spanked at home,' is his motto."
Mary laughed at the expression on the girl's face, "Right, well that's what Principal Wiley tells us and he offers a visit in the evening to your home or hotel to be the father figure who spanks at home if you get spanked at school, and that is the..."
"Full experience," interrupted Mia, and they both broke out laughing.
Civilised
She sat on a stainless steel chair at a small stainless steel desk in a room that looked as if it might be made of glass, except she could see nothing outside. In fact she could see nothing inside really, not even a door, everything was seamless. On each wrist was a strange soft bracelet that they had attached when they had arrested her. Since they didn't hold her wrists together, she had no idea what they were for. Opposite her sat a man on a stainless steel chair wearing a uniform, but one that was very strange to her eyes.
"I regret to inform you," he said, "that you have been found guilty of an aggravated breach of the Space and Time Continuum Act in that you were found on an alternative version of your planet where you did not exist. Specifically, although an inhabitant of Earth97 in your year of 2023AD, you were found on Earth123 in your year of 2023AD. The finding of aggravated breach is due to the fact that you do not exist on Earth123 in the year of 2023AD. The consequences to the space time continuum of your presence are so mind-numbingly frightening that one of the judges fainted."
"How could there be a trial if I wasn't there?"
"You don't need to be there for a trial to take place. Your case, such as it is, was put for you."
"But I didn't know there was such a law so how can I be guilty and anyway..."
He interrupted. "Ignorance is no excuse in law, you know."
"Yeah, but how can I not exist on Earth123? I have existed on all the other earths I have visited."
"Yes and your reckless disregard of safety and protocol was noted at your trial. Quite apart from the fact you are not authorised to go anywhere outside Earth97, you visited alternative variations of Earth where you do exist which is also banned, except under careful supervision. That is how we spotted you hitching on to transports but visiting where you do NOT exist..."
He shuddered to a stop.
"But I must exist there!"
He sighed. "Let's see shall we."
He took what looked to her like a silver pen from his pocket and laid it on the table. It promptly unrolled into something the size and thickness of an A4 sheet of paper, and she realised it was some sort of computer which he began to operate.
"You see on Earth123 your parents may not have married or one of them might have died or any number of differing factors could have caused the paths of the two earths to diverge. Ah yes, see here, you were knocked off a bicycle and killed at age 9."
She went white. "I remember that. He came around the corner too fast and just missed me. He managed to turn the wheel, and he shot off into a ditch."
"Well on Earth123 he didn't, and you don't exist there any more."
"Anyway," he continued in a severe tone of voice, "that is all irrelevant. You have been found guilty and sentenced. You are extremely lucky that the judges took into consideration your ignorance in coming from such a backward time in all variations of your planet. They could have used one of the two ultimate sentences: extinction or exile."
"What do you mean?"
"Extinction, as in you cease to exist, and exile" - he paused to shudder again - "in that you get sent to one of the variations of Earth in the year 2023AD where no human life exists. I have visited a couple of them and they are no place for a young woman, trust me on that."
She went white again. "So what is my sentence then?"
"You are to receive twenty five strokes of the cane in public."
"That's barbaric! I thought you lot are supposed to be civilised. The UN calls that cruel and inhumane."
"Oh and what would you call civilised, may I ask?"
"Well, prison or a fine"
He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Oh yes your wonderful prisons. You snatch people from their families, deprive them of their jobs and pretty well all future prospect of meaningful employment, you incarcerate them in places where they are subject to random violence, bullying, sexual assault and drugs. Then you call yourself civilised. Or those fines. A poor woman with a family to feed goes five MPH over the speed limit and, wallop, she gets a £60 fine and has to go to one of your grasping payday loan companies or some sort of loan shark to feed her children. Very civilised, I must say."
"And you think hitting someone with a cane is?"
He laughed. "Oh we don't actually hit you with a cane." He became suddenly very warm and enthusiastic, and leant forward on the table, his eyes shining. "No you see we have travelled over many times and variations of your planet and have video footage of many types of corporal punishment. This doesn't only include vision but also sound and, oh it really is a thorough piece of work, the reactions of the nerves and brain patterns of every victim. We have no less than thirty thousand of them. Yes it is impressive. So what we do is that you experience exactly what a girl of your age would experience when being given twenty five with that type of cane. You feel every stroke in full, but - wait - there is more. Not only do you feel the whole caning but your bottom feels the results for exactly the length of time each welt would take to heal. We estimate that it will take four weeks for you to feel the very last bruise except, and here is the real joy of it, you will have no bruises or marks. You will just feel them. Oh yes you will feel them. Of course we have to have something for our public to watch so they get close-up views of both your face and a nineteenth century caning we took secretly."
He sat back expecting admiration, but only got her look of withering contempt. "You are barking mad, do you know that?"
"Guards," he shouted.
Two class D cyborg guards came in. That type is rather expressionless and unemotional. They were huge, both seven feet tall. She was willing to fight, but they held out their hands and the bracelet that had been placed earlier on each wrist made her stand and hold hands with them. Now it was clear what the bracelets were for. She felt like a child as she walked along holding the hands of these giants, and idly wondered if they'd give her a swing like her parents had when she was little. They took her into another room where stood a nurse; it was hard to tell if she was human or a class A cyborg.
"Oh dear, you have been such a naughty girl, haven't you. You're really quite a puzzle you know because they can't work out how a primitive like you worked out there were alternative versions of your world, much less knew how to hitch on to the transports. Still it was very dangerous you know visiting 127 where you didn't exist. It was so serious it made the Universal News and the amphitheatre is full." She waved her hand and one wall became clear.
Looking out, she
could see a vast horseshoe-type area of seating, and at the far end a simple stage with a set of steps and a block on top. Every seat was occupied.
"Now my dear, all those clothes must come off, but you're bound to be nervous so the guards will undress you."
She was about to fight that but the bracelets pulsed, and she felt a nasty tingle run through her so she went still and allowed the expressionless cyborgs to remove every stitch of her clothing, which they placed in a box. The nurse waved at a wall, and a hole opened in the seamless face into which she popped the box. Then, waving her hand again, the wall closed over, seamless and smooth.
The two cyborg guards held out their hands, and the bracelets made her hold hands again. They walked near to a wall and the floor simply moved down like a lift taking them down to a ground floor where four more class D guards waited.
Two took up the lead and two followed behind, and they marched straight towards a wall which simply opened in front of them, and let them out into the sunshine and noise of the amphitheatre. There was a huge roar, and she became frightened, but soon she realised that the crowd nearest the aisle they were on wanted to touch her and throw flowers much as if she had been a rock star. Some jumped up and wanted to hug her but, ignoring the flowers, the guards batted anyone away as if they were flies.
She marched along holding the hands of the two guards and surrounded by noise until they reached the platform. It was a flat surface, apparently hanging in the air unsupported with a flight of unsupported steps leading up to it. The steps were wide enough for all three of them, and the four extra guards turned and made a solid wall in front of the steps, while she marched up holding her guards' hands all the way to the top.
The bench was extremely odd looking, being one single sheet of shiny material, one end of which rested on the stage or platform. Other than that it looked as though it were completely without support. There were two levels to it, the first being a sort of platform about thirty centimetres high, long enough to kneel on, and take the whole of the leg from knees to toes. It then rose sharply at an angle to a second platform clearly long enough to take the upper part of the body from waist to head. This second platform sloped gently downwards. There was nothing to restrain anyone.
"Kneel on there," ordered a guard in a flat monotone voice, "then lean over and drop your arms straight down on either side."
She did as she was told mainly because she guessed the bracelets would make her, but anyway how could she possibly escape in the middle of this huge crowd. She wasn't at all sure she could stay in position during the caning; she had never even been spanked let alone caned, but guessed it would be painful. How would they make her stay put? She could and would leap up, and let them sort that one out.
When she was in position, the guard asked in his flat voice, "Are you comfortable?"
"Yes thank you, but a cup of tea would be nice." Sarcasm was her only way of retaliating.
No sooner than she had said this, than she was unable to move at all. It was as if she had been glued to the bench. Right in front of her, not on the screens but just there apparently in the air, were two moving images: one was of her face looking white, scared and angry, the other a scene, clearly real, of some sort of nineteenth century courtyard where a young woman was being dragged out naked to a large wooden block. She was screaming and begging in a language she didn't recognise, but it sounded central European, maybe Hungarian. She realised that all around the amphitheatre the audience was seeing both her face and the young woman.
In the nineteenth century, a tall burly man in uniform stepped up behind the girl with a vicious looking long cane. He raised it high, and brought it down. At the precise second the cane landed in the video she felt an appalling blow across the middle of her bottom. It seemed to cut right deep down into her, and took every scrap of breath from her body.
"Aaaaaaahhhhh!" Her scream seemed to be wrung from deep inside of her, and was composed of surprise, shock and pain, but then another pain replaced the initial blow. It was a fiery line that burnt across her bottom, placing every nerve ending on red alert.
Even as her mind absorbed all this, another blow struck, and she screamed, "No! You have to stop. I didn't know, you have no right."
Somewhere her mind registered that her pain was coinciding with the strokes in the video, and she began begging the uniformed man to have pity. He, of course, could not hear her, and had no pity then so why now.
Each blow was awful, the pain intense, and her inability to thrash around seemed to compound it. She screamed, begged, and threatened as the fiery pain in her bottom mounted, multiplied and began to dominate her world. She lost awareness of the amphitheatre full of people, of the bench she was on and where she was; now there was only the ever-descending cane, and the pain it caused.
Her caning seemed to take an eternity - stroke after stroke - to her there were far more than twenty five blows. It was more like fifty or a hundred. On and on came those blows, and then the fire they left behind, but finally it ceased, although now she could no longer see her face as the audience saw it for the tears obscured her vision. They saw her tears, her distress, every single line of pain etched on her face.
She was in such pain from her caning. Her bottom burned with fire, welts throbbed unbearably, and there were sharp points of agonising nastiness where welts had crossed. It felt to her as if she was bleeding slightly at some points. Her voice was hoarse with screaming, her nose running and her eyes blinded with tears. She felt utterly exhausted. Suddenly she found she could move again but lacked any energy or will to get up from the bench.
Her two guards said nothing but between them they simply picked her up effortlessly and carried her off the platform and down the steps. The four guards fell in front and behind as before, and as before swatted anyone away who tried to touch or kiss her. Soon she was back with the nurse.
"Now, my dear, that was very painful for you I know, but only what you deserve for being such a naughty girl. Now guards, pop her face down on my couch here."
The couch was another thin sheet, apparently unsupported in the air, and she was laid, quite gently she noticed, face down on it. To her amazement it was extremely comfortable and made her feel like going to sleep, which she promptly did. When she woke she felt better though her bottom was still intensely painful.
"Good. I have been waiting a long time for you to wake. Here is a nice drink."
"Has it got any painkiller in it?"
"No, of course not, you are meant to feel sore. It is a restorative to put some energy back into you, now drink it all up."
It was a delicious drink, the nurse was quite right. She felt a great deal better after it.
"Now that you have recovered a bit, I have some important news for you. A great honour is being given you if you should choose to take it up. Frankly, you would be mad not to. Our Space and Time Continuum Academy is one of the hardest of all to get into. They have 1003 applicants for every place, they only take the best of the best, and never before has a place been offered to a primitive."
"I am not a bloody primitive."
"No, I beg your pardon, really I do. You are quite right, my dear, to object. What I meant, of course, is all the variations of Earth in the year 2023 are extremely primitive - all those wars and people starving, quite awful. You, though, are remarkable. From a planet and time with no knowledge that there are even variants, you managed to jump from one to another. The Academy is most dreadfully impressed, and is offering you not only a place but a full scholarship. That is practically unheard of. Now to graduate and be an STC Officer is, well it is... I just can't begin to describe how highly placed STC officers are within the whole universe in all its variations."
She was impressed in spite of her anger and pain, but more importantly it would mean she would get to jump variations of planets which she had already found so exciting. One little deviation and worlds could go off in different directions. Earth27 for example was entirely vegetarian, the whole planet,
not a single piece of meat eaten anywhere. She hadn't been able to work out how that had come about.
"Well, I would be interested, I must admit, even though your lot have beaten me so savagely."
"Good and I would hope so young lady. Really, you should jump at it. The details have been placed on that most primitive thing you call a computer; you will have two of your Earth days to accept. But I must warn you: discipline in the academy is incredibly strict. It has to be, of course, because messing about with the STC is highly dangerous as you have discovered. They do use that corporal punishment machine on students that break the rules. Not as severely as you got, of course, but pretty painful. It's all on your computer. Now it is time to send you back, so let's get your clothes on."
"Where are you sending me to?
"Your own home, your bedroom."
"Then I'll just carry the stuff thanks."
"As you wish."
The wall opened and the nurse handed the box back to her.
"The box will return itself when you empty it. Now, do accept the academy, my dear. It has been such a pleasure helping you, though I know it wasn't very nice for you, but naughty girls must be punished."
She looked at the nurse keenly. "Tell me, are you a human or not."
"No, of course not, I am a class B cyborg. Did I get my role right?"
"Very close," she smiled. "Very close indeed. Thank you."
There was a shimmer all around her, and then she found herself standing in her very own bedroom. She tipped her clothes onto the bed and the box disappeared. She turned quickly to her long mirror to study her bottom. She looked and they were right, there wasn't a single mark on her, but when she touched her bottom with her fingers she could feel every welt, and some reacted angrily to being touched, making her wince.
"Pain without a mark," she hissed into the mirror, "so that is what they mean by civilised."
The Study
