Chapter 1

"So, Carrie, when do you think the Department of Corrections will have the Corporal Punishment Centers up and running?" Judge Vanessa Porter asked her colleague and long-time friend, Judge Carolyn 'Carrie' Stevens, before taking a bite of her chicken salad sandwich. They were at the café around the corner from the courthouse, where they often lunched together during breaks in their busy judicial calendars.

Judge Stevens was mid-fifties, about ten years older than Vanessa, and had often mentored her younger colleague when Vanessa had first been appointed to the bench. Vanessa knew that Carrie was well connected with the people in various branches of state government and would likely have a good sense of the real state of affairs beyond the public pronouncements from the bureaucrats.

The older woman swallowed her mouthful of salmon, put her fork down and replied, "I think another month or so is probably reasonable. It can't happen soon enough."

"Yes," Vanessa replied. "The legislature passed the bill almost six months ago and we still can't sentence anyone to actually receive the cane."

Judge Stevens nodded. "It's so frustrating to have these young criminals appear before you, perfect candidates for a good flogging, and you've been told to wait to apply the full measure of the law. Meanwhile, our neighbors across the river to the east have seen almost a 30% drop in petty crime since they instituted caning."

"The worst part is we're really a bit in the dark about how it's going to work in practice," Vanessa replied.

Judge Stevens raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean, Vanessa?" she asked.

"Well, I'm not really sure how many strokes I would feel comfortable awarding for a given offense."

"You worry too much," her friend replied. "You've been sentencing people for years now. "

"Yes, to prison." Vanessa said. "There's well over a century of established practice and plenty of guidance. This is all new." She watched as Carrie lifted another piece of her fish to her mouth. "I want to be fair to both the offenders and society and I don't feel I have enough information to do that right now ."

"I plan to just do what I always do-the max for a repeat offender and something less for a first timer."

Vanessa looked at Carrie. "I just wish I knew more about the whole thing. How they do it, how painful it is..."

Carrie laughed. "How painful? Really? It's supposed to hurt like hell and from what I've heard from across the river, it's that and more. If it didn't, it wouldn't be much of a deterrent, would it?"

"I suppose not," Carrie replied. "Still, it's hard to really know."

Judge Stevens put her fork down and looked across the table at her friend. "I believe I've mentioned my old law school friend, Judge Marty Powers across the river in Dorsbury."

"Maximum Marty?"

"He's been known to answer to that," Carrie said, smiling. "I'm sure he could arrange a tour of their facility. You could witness the whole procedure from start to finish."

Vanessa took a deep breath. It was now or never-she trusted her friend completely, but, still, it was hard to reveal one's darkest thoughts and desires to anyone. "A tour would be interesting," Vanessa said, "But that wasn't exactly what I was thinking about. I mean that wouldn't really tell me how it would feel for the offender to go through it."

Carrie looked at her friend for a moment and nodded. "What are you getting at, Vanessa?" she asked, sympathetically.

Vanessa's head was spinning-what was Carrie thinking of her? "I mean.." she stammered.

Carrie reached out her hand and touched Vanessa's palm. She could feel that it was damp with perspiration. "It's OK, Vanessa. I save my judging for the courtroom, not for friends," she said gently.

Carrie sighed with relief. "I know I could just go across the river and commit some type of offense that would get me a caning sentence," she allowed. "But that would inevitably be disclosed to the State Bar and the Commission on Judicial Qualifications back here. It'd be the end of my career as a judge and even as a lawyer. I couldn't have that."

"Of course not," Carrie replied. "The whole thing would have to be done in secret under a false name."

Vanessa looked down at her lunch plate and shook her head. "It's a really stupid idea. I'm sorry for bringing it up, Carrie."

"I never said that, Vanessa. I think I understand where you're coming from. Let me have a chat with Marty and see what can be arranged. No promises and absolutely no judgements."

***

It was a couple of days later when Carrie stopped by Vanessa's office, a legal folder in her hands, shutting the door behind her. "I spoke with Marty. You know, my friend, Judge Powers," she continued when Vanessa didn't reply.

"Yes, I remember," Vanessa replied.

"You're still interested in doing this?" Carrie asked.

To be honest, Vanessa was having a few doubts at this point, but she nodded and replied. "Yes, I am."

Carrie took a sheet of paper out of the folder and slid it across the desk to Vanessa, who picked it up and began reading.

"Cynthia Johnson? That's me?" Vanessa asked.

"Yes," her friend replied. "If you decide to go through with this, we'll take a picture of you in front of a white background and Marty can have a driver's license from across the river made that will list your name as Cynthia Johnson with an address over there."

Vanessa read further. "I've been convicted of drunk driving," she said, her voice trembling. She had always been diligent about having no more than one drink if she were driving.

"Yes, fortunately you didn't hurt anyone," Carrie said, smiling. "You were caught at a roadblock."

"I am to report to Female Corporal Punishment Center #3 in Dorsbury on March 12 to receive twelve strokes of the cane according to the standard procedures of the Department of Corrections. That's about a week away." Vanessa's heart was pounding with both fear and excitement. This looked completely official.

"Yes," Carrie replied.

"A dozen?" Vanessa asked. "Is that a lot?"

"Marty assures me that will give you a pretty good idea of what's involved."

Vanessa looked pale, but she nodded.

Carrie continued. "If you agree, Marty will file the paperwork with their DoC. Once he does that, you're in the system and there's no backing out. Now, I have to warn you, the staff at the Center will have no knowledge of this and they will treat you like any other offender."

"That's exactly what I want," Vanessa said. "No special treatment."

"I understand," Carrie replied. "When you're at the Center, you can plead innocence of the crime, beg for mercy-those are things that some offenders do, though of course, it does them no good. But you can't breathe a word about this scheme or you will be in deep trouble, along with Marty and probably yours truly. We're trusting you, Vanessa."

"I won't do that. I promise."

"I want you to sleep on this before I get back to Marty and have him enter you into the system, OK?"

"OK," Vanessa replied nodding. "You think I'm crazy to do this, don't you?"

"It's going to be the worst experience of your life, Vanessa. Exposing yourself in front of strangers, being tied down and flogged mercilessly. It will be humiliating, degrading and extraordinarily painful. Your ass will hurt for weeks afterwards, or so I'm told."

"I'm due a few weeks vacation, which I'll use to recover."

"That's good. Look, it's not something I would ever consider doing myself, but I think I do understand where you're coming from," Carrie said.

Vanessa just smiled. It was good to have a friend like Carrie. "I'll let you know for sure tomorrow," she said. Carrie stood and left the office.