by Susan Thomas
Britain 1960: Queen Elizabeth gives birth to Prince Andrew; Cyprus gains its independence from Britain; Harold Macmillan is Prime Minister; the Beatles first appear in Hamburg under that name; and Anne Martin becomes the youngest ever Woman Police Constable in her force.
"Martin, you'll be working here with me today. When the others go out on patrol I want a word."
"Yes Sarge."
Anne gave no thought to the rearrangement. Sergeant Peters probably had some boring paperwork he wanted to shift and as she was very new, very young and a woman, she was obviously the first choice. Not that she minded. The sergeant was good; he really knew his stuff and he was no overbearing bully like some were. He was fair-minded, very particular about doing things right for sure, but not unkind.
The station emptied as the old shift made their way home and the new went out on patrol. It was Wednesday evening and it was quiet in the little market town. There was no one in the cells, no one else around and unlikely to be for some while in this small station.
"You wanted to see me, Sarge."
"Yes I did, WPC Martin. Have you heard the case against Jimmy Sullivan collapsed in court?"
"No! Why, what happened?"
"Missing evidence. The judge tore strips off the prosecution for poor preparation."
Jimmy Sullivan was a serial burglar. The trouble was he was also seriously stupid and always got caught, usually with a whole string of offences to be taken into consideration. He wasn't violent or dangerous, just a bloody nuisance, and this time it was hoped he'd go down for a fairly long stretch.
"That's ridiculous." Anne sounded very prim. "There were three boxes of evidence. I assembled them for the detectives and sent them up."
Without a word Sergeant Sam Peters produced a box from under his counter and banged it down in front of her.
Anne sucked in her breath, "Oh my, didn't I..."
"Apparently not," the sergeant said dryly.
"What's going to happen to me?"
"Well they don't know it was you. It seems that some fool at the court signed for three boxes so they think it went missing there. They have been scouring the courts for it but no luck so far. They don't even know who to blame. Now I have a problem."
Anne was horrified. This was a terrible thing to have done. It could have been a rapist or a murderer. "Problem?"
"Yes Martin, a problem. Actions, my girl, have consequences, and so by rights I should report this. However, if I do your career is over. Oh, they probably won't chuck you off the force but you'll be visiting schools and directing traffic from now on. That would be a shame as you're bright and could go a fair way... for a woman of course."
Anne was fighting to hold back tears. She felt as if she had stepped into a lake of horse manure right up to her neck.
"However, I am getting too old to always do what I should. Jimmy is now off and no amount of wishing will change that. The stupid fool will probably get caught again very soon. No one can be blamed because it could have been any one of a dozen people or so they think. Of course it couldn't, because WPC Anne Martin didn't put it on the van, but since that idiot up at the court signed for it, they don't know. But," and here he looked very stern, "that means you get away with being very sloppy indeed and that offends me. In my book those who do wrong or make serious mistakes should suffer the consequences. So as I say, a problem. It's a sort of moral dilemma; do I do what I should or deal with you in a totally different way?"
Anne had an idea where this was going. There were always rumours flying around the ranks of the WPCs about how some sergeants, or even more senior officers, dealt with 'problems' when it was a woman involved. Sergeant Peters wasn't like some of them but that didn't mean he wouldn't use the same methods.
"What different way, Sarge?"
"I'm old enough to be your father, Martin. How does your father deal with your bad behaviour?"
Yes she was right, that was the way the wind was blowing. Well the sergeant was no lascivious bully. If that was what he intended she wouldn't fight it.
"My father died when I was eleven, Sarge."
He looked genuinely shocked and clearly felt sorry for her. It was a different voice entirely that said, "Oh I am sorry, Martin. I know how that feels. My dad died down the pit when I was nine. Not easy is it."
They stood in silent contemplation and then Anne decided it was time to stop delaying, "I think I know where this is going Sarge. You mean corporal punishment don't you?"
"Yes Martin, I do. I can't see any other way of dealing with this can you? You were careless and you have to learn that you can't be. I could report it, but what is gained other than your career down the drain? Nothing. Jimmy will still be out and nobody at the court is on the hook, so not a thing. You are young and I am more than old enough to be your father. A sore backside will serve to punish and remind you to be thorough with your work."
It took Anne back to when her father was alive. That was pretty much his attitude and his tone of voice; actions had consequences and when his daughter misbehaved, over his knee she went. That made her think; going over the sergeant's knee wasn't a pleasant thought, indeed any kind of corporal punishment wasn't attractive, but that was particularly embarrassing to think about.
"What exactly did you have in mind, Sarge?"
"In the lost property is that pair of leather slippers. You take yourself into the store room, bare and bend, and I give you a good hard spanking with that slipper. Then you vow to be a great deal more thorough in future."
Anne was relieved. So, not over his knee, but there was the 'bare and bend' bit. That was horribly embarrassing, but she'd heard rumours that it did happen to girls in the force (and also in the WRENS and WAAF) from time to time. Some thought it terrible but some thought it good; it was an option never offered to the young men and it was preferable to a bad record. She wondered what would happen if she refused. Sergeant Peters was not likely to let her get away with it. If she didn't 'bare and bend' he would report her; better embarrassment and a sore bum than a bad record.
"I'm very sorry Sarge. I think I know what happened. I was due to go off duty, the van was late and there was a lot to go on. I must have rushed it. It's a terrible thing to have done. I'll be very careful in future as I don't want it going on my record. I'll go to the store room."
"A sensible decision Martin. Go now and get ready while it's quiet. Best take a chair in to bend over. I'll give you time before I come in."
Anne picked up one of the plain wooden chairs put out for members of the public who had to wait. On her way to the store room she began to tremble. She hadn't had any corporal punishment since Miss Flowers, her headmistress, had given her two strokes of the cane on each hand when she was fourteen. She laughed ... Miss Flowers would certainly approve of what was about to happen to her; they had never got on and she had been a regular visitor to the head's office.
Anne put the chair in the dusty store room and shut the door behind her. Now what should she do? She took off her uniform cap and put in an empty shelf. Her tunic came right down over her bottom. That would be in the way so she first undid the belt that went around her waist and then the tunic buttons. Folding the jacket carefully she laid that with the cap. Her instruction was to bare and bend, but her heavy uniform skirt came down a good two inches beneath her knees. That would be hard to lift up. She almost panicked. She was going to have to practically undress to take this punishment.
It took several deep breaths for Anne to calm herself. Alright, the skirt had to come off. She undid it, and stepping out of it folded it to join her cap and tunic. She stood shaking her head. Oh God, this was so embarrassing! The underskirt all WPCs had to wear must also come off as it would just be a nuisance. Soon it too was with the rest of her uniform. Now to bare herself. Again she had to fight with herself to go further. She believed other girls had done this but it was just so horribly embarrassing. She undid the garter belt, freeing the regulation dark stockings she had to wear, and then taking a huge breath to steady herself was about to pull her panties down. No! She'd wait until he came in. She pulled the chair to her and stood behind the back, bending over it to test the position. This was going to be quite horrible.
The door opened and Sergeant Peters came in carrying the leather slipper. In the lost property it had looked perfectly harmless, but no longer. Now it looked menacing. It was a large one made for a big man out of good quality heavy leather. There was heel but the style had a cut away part where the bridge of the foot would be. She could see by the way the sergeant was handling it that it made it ideal to hold and land a good solid whack with the sole. The sole itself was good thick leather and it took no imagination to know that it was going to hurt.
"Well done Martin. I see you are taking this in the right spirit. Now let's have the last stage and get on with your punishment."
Anne felt herself blushing at what she had to do next. Just standing in front of him with so little on was bad enough. She turned and taking a deep breath she pulled her panties down to her knees and bent over the chair. She held the seat on either side, unsure how much it was going to hurt.
He said nothing more but abruptly there was a mighty blow across her bottom. The whack of the leather on her bare bottom filled the room, but the slightly delayed sting made her gasp. "Uh!" Anne was ashamed of the noise she had made. Wasn't she supposed to take punishment stoically?
Whack! Again the sound filled the room. She gasped and then the sting seemed to multiply and she gasped again. Her knees bent in a vain attempt to ease the stinging. She wondered how many he was giving her.
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