Just Another Day on the Tuttle Fruit Farm

Author's note: This is a brand-new "Tuttle" story set in a fictious Southern town during the 1950s. My last "Tuttle" story concerned the discipline of nuns, and it was very well received.  (click here to view)  I did, however, receive a few comments questioning whether that story was severe enough to appear on Strict Spanking.  In all fairness, that nun story wasn't very severe, but then again, none of my Tuttle stories are as severe as my judicial stories.

This story I believe, however, fits nicely on Strict Spanking as it was my intent to significantly ratch up the severity of the punishment. As always, in the comment field at the end, please let us know whether you feel I achieved that objective.

Just Another Day on the Tuttle Fruit Farm
by Tiredny

Early morning chill had been replaced by a strong sun and a light breeze.  Nora Petersen wasn't really able to appreciate though, as she was busy drawing up the loading schedules for the trucks to take fruit from the Brown Fruit Farm to the processors.  She's been working on this farm in the admin building for just about two months now. She was the only employee working in this small building other than the owner, Noland Brown, who had his office in the back.

There were only two other employees and they both had a variety of responsibilities.  First and foremost, they supervised the “pickers”. That is, the people who harvested the fruit.  Farmer Brown, as he was called by his friends and business associates, had contracted with the County Women's Work Farm to hire inmates to pick his fruit.  During the picking season there would be 50 to 100 inmates on the farm working under the direction of Pete and George.  In addition, to supervising both Pete and George would also drive the heavy equipment loaded with fruit to the large barn containing the bagging operation.

 This “contract” with the CWWF was a good deal for everyone.  It provided the county with money to supplement the costs of running the Work Farm.  Farmer Brown got low cost “pickers”. Inmates volunteered to work on the Brown Farm because:

1. They earned money to purchase items in the Work Farm commissary

2. Discipline was much more relaxed (no CO's) than when working on the County Farm where they earned nothing

3. They could eat all the fruit they wanted

4. They could talk as they worked providing, they did not disturb others.  (On the County Farm “no talking” was the rule.)

Inmates were transported to the Brown Farm in CWWF buses early each morning.  Nora would occasionally see the drop off, but most often, by the time she had arrived at the Brown Farm, they'd already be scattered in the orchards.  Her arrival time was not consistent as she walked from her house which was about a mile away, and along the way she'd drop off her two young children at school.  (Petersens owned a car, but it badly needed repairs for which there was no money. In any case, Nora never learned how to drive.) Similarly, at the end of the day sometimes she would see the “pickup” as the CWWF buses varied greatly.  Nora, however, had to leave for home at the same time every day, in order for her to be at school just as it was letting out.

This arrangement suited Farmer Brown and he was very pleased with the high-quality work Nora performed.  Prior to Nora, the scheduling, coordinating of shipments to the food processors, arranging for adequate “pickers” and the ordering of supplies was all done by Mrs. Brown.  With two new grandchildren, Mrs. Brown decided that she'd rather spend time helping with the grandchildren, so that's how Nora happened upon this great opportunity.

Not only did Nora like the work, but her family also desperately needed the money. Farmer Brown paid her a very fair wage, just as he did to his other two employees. In short, he paid well, but his expectations were high.

Nora's family finances were in terrible shape as her husband, Jimmy, was recovering from lung problems.  He is ten years her senior and had worked in the mines for close to 20 years.  Jimmy was getting stronger every day, but according to the company doctor he was still 6 weeks away from returning to work.  In the meantime, the only money coming into the family was his “sick pay” or roughly half of what he'd typically earn.  Good news is the company doctor informed Jimmy, he'd restrict him from working underground from then on, if and only if he agreed to give up smoking. Upon hearing this, Nora shouted, “Deal!”  She then rounded upon all of Jimmy's cigarettes and took them to the Brown Farm.

Nora had no contact whatsoever with the inmates, so until all the cigarettes were gone, she gave two packs each day to Pete and George to provide to their “workers”. Since many of the inmates smoked, this worked out well for everyone. Except that is, for poor Jimmy, who had to go “cold turkey”.

Things were going smoothly this day until, Farmer Brown rushed into the office and exclaimed, “We'll run out of fruit bags in about two hours.  Mrs. Petersen, do we have more stashed away somewhere?”

Nora, in a mild panic, answered, “No, Mr. Brown, we keep them close to the packing line in the large barn.  I know I ordered bags. Let me check.”  With that she pulled out the Purchase Order and Confirmation from the bag company.  “Here it is, Mr. Brown.  See! I order the bags a month ago.” as she confidently handed the PO and Confirmation to Farmer Brown. (For some reason, she always addressed Farmer Brown as “Mr. Brown”.  She just felt this showed more respect for his position as both her boss and farm owner.)

“Yes, but according to this Confirmation, the bags are to be delivered on the 21st!?  Mrs. Petersen, today is the 17th and we'll be out of bags to pack our picked fruit in an hour or two.”  He handed the paperwork back to Nora, who quickly looked over both. Farmer Brown was correct, and the bag company was correct. She had transposed the required due date from 12 to 21 on the original Purchase Order. She quickly admitted the error to Farmer Brown and said she'd phone the bag company immediately to see what they could do.

“OK, you work on that, and I'll get to George and Pete and have them stop all picking.  We'll quickly run out of space to store the picked fruit.  You'll also have to curtail some of the trucks as we won't have the bagged fruit that was planned. I'll be back before the break for lunch to see how you made out.”

“Yes, Sir.  I should have some options by then.”

“Oh noooo!  This is an absolute disaster!  I must find some bags somewhere!” thought Nora as she began dialing the bag company.

~00O00~

Just before lunch, Farmer Brown returned to the office and asked, “Any news?”

“Yes, Mr. Brown, I have assurances that by early tomorrow morning our bag supplier will deliver five days' worth of bags. Balance of our order will be delivered as confirmed early on the 21st.  No, change in cost for the bags, but there will be an additional delivery charge for the extra shipment.  I'm so sorry about this, Mr. Brown. I don't know how this could have happened.”

“Well, I know.  It's due to 'lack of attention to details', Mrs. Petersen.  We often have to 'refocus' the efforts of our pickers.  We've never had a problem like this when my wife ran the office.  I guess I'll have to bring her back here, as I can't afford to pay workers to sit idle.”

Nora knew this meant she'd lose her job, which... she simply could NOT afford.  In an effort to remain employed she suggested, “Mr. Brown, can't you at least try to 'refocus' my efforts? You know... like you do with the 'pickers'.”

Farmer Brown squinted at her and asked, “Do you have any idea of what you are suggesting, Mrs. Petersen?  I mean, do you know what this entails?”

“Umm, I have a pretty good idea, Mr. Brown.  I see the inmates walking back from the tack room with tears dripping down their cheeks and hands holding their behinds. It's not too hard to imagine what they got,” replied Nora.

“Well,” explained Farmer Brown, “if you still feel this way at 2:30 pm, present yourself in the old tack room and I'll meet you there.  I can't guarantee that you'll be alone, as every day at this time, inmates are waiting to be punished. Our agreement with the County Work Farm requires that we maintain discipline exactly as would be dispensed on the County Farm. If you show up, Mrs. Petersen, you'll remain in our employ, but... I expect no more incidents like this.”

“Yes, Mr. Brown, I completely understand and thank you for giving me another chance,” related an extremely happy Nora Petersen.  'After all,' she reasoned, 'had she screwed up this badly at home, her Jimmy would have marched her out to their woodshed and strapped her bare behind soundly. I mean, this is Tuttle! Misbehaving wives get their bottoms strapped hard in this town. Same goes for students and office workers.  Although, it's often common for students and secretaries to instead get a paddle applied to their bare behinds.”

 ~00O00~

So now resigned to appear at 2:30 pm for a “refocusing session” several issues came to mind.  She was fairly certain this “refocusing” would be done with a strap. It was common knowledge that a heavy prison strap was used to maintain discipline on the County Women's Work Farm.  Since Mr. Brown said that by contract, he had to apply discipline consistent with the County, that pretty much ruled out a paddle or Pastor Carl's heavy hairbrush. (Pastor Carl gave these hairbrushes to each head of household in Tuttle in order to maintain discipline in the home.)  This was too bad as Nora had several friends who worked as secretaries and their bosses would use the hairbrush for minor faults. On the other hand, this could hardly be classified as a “minor fault”.

More worrisome to her was the question of whether this would be a bare bottom affair.  Unfortunately, there was little doubt about it.  Once again conformance to County Farm procedures would require that strappings be applied to bare behinds and... quite soundly at that. As she was wrestling with these details, she remembered a recent group of inmates returning from the tack room.  All were teary eyed, and all were comforting their backsides.  One inmate, however, had her hands up under her prison dress and had her hands pressed against her prison issued underpants.  “Oh NO!” it occurred to her, “Mr. Brown will see my underpants!”

Most people won't concern themselves with this given that Mr. Brown would both see and strap her naked behind.  Nora, however, was concerned with the disparity in quality.  Those prison issued underpants were bright white and made of fairly thick, strong cotton.  Her underpants were in pitiful shape.  At one time her pants were white, but now they were threadbare, and yellowing.  They even had a few holes and the stitching on one seam was coming loose.  No, way could she allow these to be seen by Mr. Brown.  There was only one solution, since there was no time to walk home and back in order to change.  She'd simply have to remove prior to attending her session in the tack room. If Mr. Brown asked about her lack of underwear, she'd calmly state she removed in order to “save time” as everyone knows how inmates are spanked.

Around 2:10 pm, Nora had visited the rest room and in the process, removed her underpants. She now headed down to the tack room in the old orange barn.  She knew it would only take a few minutes, but she didn't want to be late plus she'd never been in the room before and was curious on what she'd find there. 

As she walked to the harness room, she had no delusions about her forthcoming punishment.  Everyone knew there was no “fooling around” with discipline at the County Farm. After all, this is Tuttle where misbehaving wives were often strapped soundly by their husbands.  Further, Farmer Brown had signed on to the County Work Farm system. Thus, she knew that this was going to hurt and... hurt a lot.

Early in her marriage, she had been strapped on occasion by her Jimmy.  He rarely gave her less than 25 strokes and they hurt something awful.  These were lessons truly well learned.  Fortunately, most often her indiscretions were not that severe, so Jimmy would use that hairbrush he got from Pastor Carl. Naturally, these spankings still hurt, but nothing like getting it with the strap. (Pastor Carl presented these heavy brushes to each head of household in Tuttle in order to maintain discipline in the home and usually, these were sufficient to improve behavior.)

As she entered, she saw a woman wearing a steel gray prison dress, her dark hair in a short, prison bob haircut and looked to be in her early twenties.

This inmate immediately knew Nora wasn't one of them by her long hair and light print dress and softly asked, “Are you here to witness my punishment?”

“No, not exactly,” Nora answered as she was unsure what to say and fearful of offering too much information.

“I see...” replied the inmate and she continued, “have you been in here before?”

“No, this is my first time in this room, and I'm not sure what I'm looking at,” explained Nora as she gazed at a large barrel mounted on a pedestal.  This barrel had stenciled on the side:  Property of CWWF

“Oh that?  Yes, that's where we get it.  We have to lie over, and grab hold of those handles bolted to the floor on the far side.  Just remember to never let go of those handles until given permission.  If you let go, you get penalty strokes. In the Punishment Room on the County Farm, we have five of those barrels.  This one is identical and in fact, belongs to the prison.  By having so many in the Punishment Room, it means that five inmates can be punished at one time.  Saves the County money as they don't have to pay overtime to the COs. By the way, my name is Mae.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mae.  I'm Nora.  Is this your first time in this room?”

“Unfortunately, this is my third 'visit'. I'm actually lucky to be here.  I was afraid Farmer Brown would send me back to County with a 'Do NOT Return' instruction.  Then, I'd really get a whipping, but even worse, lose out on all the benefits of working here.”

“What?! Are you saying, Mae, the discipline here, on the Brown Farm, is less severe?”

“Well, it's difficult to describe as both are bad. It's just that being booted off the fruit farm is considered a major screw-up by the COs and they punish accordingly.  See that strap with the CWWF on the wooden handle?  Farmer Brown uses exactly the same strap we get at County.  Although in all fairness, Farmer Brown always throws an old horse blanket or two over the barrel.  That saves some bruising on your hips from bucking around... as you WILL do when that strap lands on your hind end. Nora, I'm guessing this is your first time under the strap?”

“Well, I do live in Tuttle, and we do have a woodshed, which my husband has taken me to when he was really angry. So no, this isn't my first strapping.  Although, it will be my first time from Mr. Brown. Mae, any pointers you can give me will be greatly appreciated. Ya see, I need this job and want to take this punishment... um actually well-deserved punishment and want to wipe the slate clean.  That is, no bad feelings from Mr. Brown. Can you help me?”

“Actually, Nora, I'm in the same boat as you. I also want Farmer Brown to be satisfied with my spanking.  Probably the best thing for you to do is watch me on the barrel and follow my example.  Like I mentioned earlier, never, ever let go of those handles. It's important to let your disciplinarian know you are NOT resisting your punishment. As far as vocal response, don't try to hide the fact that it hurts. Don't exaggerate it either, but make sure Farmer Brown knows that you are getting the full benefit of his efforts.  Hold back as long as you can and then... let it all out.”

“Thanks for the advice, Mae, but how do you know you'll go before me?  And how many strokes will we get?”

“Oh, no question on that.  Any and all 'guests' of the county will be out of here before you get yours.  Farmer Brown has a strong sense of propriety.  On the number of strokes, it's hard to say as Farmer Brown straps until he thinks you have learned your lesson. Only guarantee is that you won't be getting off the barrel until you have a good number of welts and blisters on your backside. Sorry Nora, but you might just as well know what to expect.”

“Oh dear!” replied Nora.

“I know, but there is some good news.  Farmer Brown does not require us to pin up our dresses in back to show the other inmates how misbehavior is handled, like we often have to do on the County Farm. Further good news, we'll be out of here in no time!  I mean, it's just you and me.  Normally there are three or four of us waiting for punishment. Oh and step out of your shoes. They make us do that back at the work farm, too.  I don't know why. Something about 'flying shoes hurt'??”

As Nora untied her shoes, she remembered this actually was “good news” for it meant she'd be on time to pick up her kids from school and wouldn't have to explain why she was late.  Her remaining problem would be to keep her husband from seeing those “welts and blisters” Mae mentioned.

“OH Nora, I just remembered.  There is one final 'trick' that works with Farmer Brown.  When on the barrel, stick your hind end up as if offering it to the strap.  This shows Farmer Brown, not only are you NOT resisting your punishment, but you are 'accepting' it in the right spirit.  This same 'trick' works on some of the COs, but unfortunately not all,” explained Mae with a sigh.

“Thank you, Mae.  I'll try to remember that, but I expect it will not be easy.  I mean, how in heaven's name can you focus when you are on that barrel getting a strap applied to your backside?  Speaking of which, have you recently gotten the strap at the County Farm?”

“No, actually I haven't, but I did get a good paddling two days ago for mouthing off to a CO.  And... and HERE I AM AGAIN!”

“Oh, you poor thing. Does it still hurt?  The paddling, I mean.”

“Not real sore, not inflamed and throbbing like the first day - just somewhat tender.  It's kind of hard to explain, but in two days from now, you'll understand.”

Just then Farmer Brown entered the tack room carry some papers and said, “Good only two today!  Let's me see.  Ah, you must be Marla. Wait, I know you.  You've been in here before.”

“It's Mae, Farmer Brown, and yes, I've been here before.  I just don't know when to keep my mouth shut.”

“Mae?” questioned Farmer Brown as he looked at her ticket. “OK, I see. Pete's handwriting is worse than my doctor's. Anyhow, 'Insubordination' I believe is what Pete attempted to indicate as your offence, as clearly you are NOT 'insubstantial'. Well, let's see if we can MOTIVATE you to treat your superiors better.  Let's get moving.  You know the drill, Mae.”

Mae immediately reached up under her long prison dress and dropped her prison drawers to her ankles. While she was doing this, Farmer Brown grabbed two old horse blankets and laid them on the barrel.  Mae waddled to the barrel, climbed aboard, and reached out to grab the handles firmly.

Nora thought, “Thank God, I was correct about being punished on the bare. My lack of underwear would have been hard to explain had I guessed wrong.  Think I understand the shoes now.  When Mae reached for those handles, she had to pull herself forward and this brought her feet up off the floor.  Wildly kicking feet could send shoes flying.”

Farmer Brown next lifted Mae's long dress high on her back baring her bottom for punishment.  With all the exercise Mae got working on the farm, her now naked, round, firm cheeks jutted out and split by a deep divide. Obviously, all that strenuous exercise increased the muscle mass in Mae's hind cheeks, but that was not all Nora noticed. Clearly, this was a bottom that had been thrashed recently, as could be seen by the tell-tale bruises and welts from her paddling. Undoubtedly, her impending punishment would hurt that much more when applied to Mae's still sore behind.

With Mae in position, Framer Brown walked over to the wall and took down the heavy strap.  He flexed it a bit and it became clear this was a serious instrument of chastisement. He then walked to the right side of the barrel and laid the strap across Mae's white, quivering cheeks.  (Up overhead was a rather large opening in the barn wall that let light in and sound out.  Now, there was a rope to close the opening, but Farmer Brown usually kept it open. He felt natural light helped him determine when the delinquent had enough, plus their yells would be heard by other inmates out picking fruit.  Letting these “workers” know that discipline was enforced on the Brown farm, was a good thing as far as Farmer Brown was concerned.  He felt it reduced the number of infractions requiring punishment.)

Framer Brown made sure that he was positioned so that the strap would lap the far cheek.  This ensured each stroke landed fully across both cheeks and was “appreciated” to the fullest by the miscreant.  He then took the strap all the way back and returned it to the waiting behind with a loud   CCRRACKKK!!

The sound was like a rifle shot as it reverberated around the rafters.  Mae raised both head and feet, but uttered no sound. Almost immediately, Farmer Brown brought the strap back and delivered another hard stroke. He followed that up with another quick, hard stroke across Mae's now reddening and squirming hind cheeks.

Farmer Brown's “method” was three quick, very hard strokes and then a slow walk to the opposite side.  The severity and rapidity of the strokes caused a crisis in the culprits that eventually caused them to lose control and scream shamelessly in the vast void of the barn.  Mae, however, was now breathing rapidly; her head was up and mouth open as she released a silent scream.  Nora guessed that Mae was following her “plan” to hold back until she couldn't.  In addition, Nora noticed that as Farmer Brown walked to the other side of the barrel, Mae stopped the wiggling of her backside and lifted her naked cheeks as if offering up for the strap to punish. Again, this would be consistent with Mae's strategy.

At the end of the next three strokes, Mae was howling and begging for respite. None was given, of course.  After the next three, a howling Mae promised:  “I'll never talk back to the foreman again.  Please, Farmer Brown, I've learned my lesson.  I'll only speak with respect to my betters....  OOOWWWW!!! HOW IT HURTS!!!...”  Not once, however, did Mae's hands move from those handles as she held on for dear life.

After several sets of three hard strokes, she was screaming even louder in pain and her hips were bucking all over the barrel; just as Mae stated all delinquents do. Nora was paying close attention as she was next, and she was dreading her impending punishment with every ounce of her soul.  At this point, Nora had counted 18 full strokes, but now Farmer Brown changed tactics and laid the strap across Mae's quivering and squirming thighs.  He landed a single stroke square across Mae's tender and unmarked thighs. This resulted in a piercing scream: “YYYYIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! NO MORE!  PLEASE NO MORE!!!”

In spite of her desperate plea, Farmer Brown went to the other side an delivered another sound stroke to the now reddening thighs that resulted in Mae howling her distress and tearfully begging for mercy... saying as how she couldn't take anymore and begging Farmer Brown to end the strapping.  That she had learned her lesson. Never again would she talk back to the foreman.

Farmer Brown pretty much ignored Mae's pleas as he knew she'd had a lot worse at the County Farm.  Nevertheless, he felt she had been punished enough for today's indiscretion. So, he re-hung the strap and told Mae to get off the barrel.

Mae hopped off still crying and immediately grabbed her sore thighs.  She rubbed briskly as she hopped around with her underpants still stretched tightly between her ankles.  “I'm so sorry for the disrespect I showed your man, Farmer Brown.  Please forgive me!” chanted Mae over and over and over as she continued nursing her inflamed thighs.

“Yeah, yeah, Mae.  Pull yourself together and get back to work!” commanded Farmer Brown who clearly expected to see the “mouthy” inmate back in the tack room again in a few weeks.  He'd just seen far too many inmates that lacked control over their tongues, so he wasn't going to waste any time lecturing Mae.  Plus, he had to get back to work himself and needed Mae out so he could dispense Nora's punishment.

Mae, pulled up her pants, stepped into her shoes and ran out of the tack room, nursing her sore hind end, which was now purple, black, and red.  These colors would last a few days and sitting during this time would be most unpleasant.

Farmer Brown addressed Nora, “We both know why you are here, Mrs. Petersen. But I'd still like to get your take on what's going to happen.”

“Of course, Mr. Brown,” replied Nora softly. “Due to my error today, you're going to whip that heavy strap onto my behind until you believe I'm committed to becoming more focused on my work. This is so mistakes, like the bag order, will NOT happen again.  I fully accept the consequences for my failure and appreciate, Mr. Brown, your willingness to help me “refocus” my efforts.”

“Very good, Mrs. Petersen.  Do you have any questions about the process forward?”

“No, Sir.  Before you arrived, Mae was kind enough to explain the standard 'procedure'.”

“Well, then would you please position yourself on the punishment barrel, Mrs. Petersen.”

“Yes, Sir,” answered Nora as she climbed on the barrel and took hold of those solid handles.

Farmer Brown noticed that she did NOT lower her underpants as was the normal 'procedure' and wondered how he should handle.  After all, Mrs. Petersen was not an inmate on the County Farm.  Nevertheless, it was important for the strap to land on a bare bottom for he had to be able to see the effects it produced and to avoid areas where continued punishment would require medical treatment. He decided that he could always begin on her underpants and then lower as the punishment became more serious.

With this in mind, Farmer Brown approached Nora and lifted her light dress high on her back.  To his surprise, her bare bottom was exposed and in proper position for punishment. Delighted that he wouldn't have to deal with a covered backside and pleased that Mrs. Petersen was accepting this punishment in the correct spirit, he grabbed the prison strap and moved into position.  He laid the strap across the obediently-presented hind cheeks to measure the distance.

Nora had a firm plump bottom flaring out from a slim waist. These twin full, firm globes, now quivering slightly, and split by a deep cleft, were best characterized as heavy and low slung. Her unblemished, pale naked cheeks were nervously twitching with the dread and fear of the forthcoming chastisement.

After several years of disciplining the prison workers, Farmer Brown discovered that lessons were only learned with firm, sound strappings.  “Going easy” was a mistake he made early on and one he was determined NOT to repeat.  It was also compassionate as a hard strapping made it clear to the delinquent that she had better mend her ways and in this way, avoid repeated punishments for the same infraction. To this end, Farmer Brown pulled the strap all the way back and brought it back down with a loud CCRRACKKK!  And heavy strap wrapped around those obediently-presented cheeks with tremendous force.

Nora stiffened in shock - eyes and mouth going wide; she hadn't imagined anything could hurt so much! Before she could respond, Farmer Brown quickly laid on two more strokes equally as hard; then began the slow walk to the other side.

As he was walking to the opposite side, the naked ovals of Nora's bottom fairly danced and shifted and rolled and contracted and yawned and jiggled.  With a wild scream the girl lunged forward over the barrel and twisted and squirmed frantically.  No, way could she “hold it in” as Mae had done, as the pain just overwhelmed her. She remembered Mae's caution to hold onto the handles and she was able to do so, but it took considerable effort on her part. She also remembered Mae's suggestion to “offer up”, but her hind end was squirming frantically trying to dissipate the intense pain.  

Farmer Brown delivered three more hard fast strokes of the strap that left Nora just howling in pain and jerking like a puppet on the barrel - arching, twisting, squirming.  With each stroke, her hips bucked up and down on the barrel as fireballs of pain were ignited in deep in her bottom cheeks. She could only imagine how this would feel without those horse blankets. Never had she ever experienced strokes this severe.  Yes, she had been taken to their woodshed on many occasions, but Jimmy's strap was nowhere near as heavy.  All she could think was: 'this prison strap is an agonizing implement of punishment - no wonder it's the instrument of choice for maintaining discipline on the County Farm!'

Another three strokes were delivered, and Nora was in panic.  She had to end this punishment soon or she'd lose all control. Earning penalty strokes was something she knew would result, if this intense punishment continued much longer. Thus, she cried and begged: “PLEASE, MR. BROWN, IT HURTS SO MUCH! PLEASE I'VE LEARNED MY LESSON. MERCY, PLEASE!!!”  Then she remembered Mae's advice to “offer up” and using every ounce of control she had left, she raised her behind to indicate that “acceptance”.

Farmer Brown immediately recognized that Nora's punishment was achieving its goal of “teaching” and ended her chastisement with a final three, but only moderate strokes.  All three landed in the undercurve of Nora's upraised hind cheeks. In spite of the reduce severity, Nora's seriously inflamed, tender behind continued plunging, twisting, and jerking as she pleaded, blubbered, and promised to do better.

Twelve strokes would be considered “insufficient” for an inmate, but Farmer Brown felt it was adequate as a “first” punishment for Mrs. Petersen.  Thus, he re-hung the strap and told Nora her punishment was over.

Nora very slowly got down from the barrel and stood facing Farmer Brown with both hands nursing her burning, throbbing, bare hindquarters.  Still sniveling she said, “Thank you, Farmer Brown, for the chance to prove I can do better.  Your punishment will help remind me in the days and weeks to come, that I must stay totally focused on the task at hand.  I will NOT disappoint you.  Should I do so, however, I would hope that you would once again teach me the error of my ways.”

“Of course, Mrs. Petersen, but I doubt further “sessions” will be necessary.  Now, I simply must head out as I still have work to do.”

As Nora headed back to the office still clutching her bottom, just as the inmates would, she tried to figure out how many strokes she'd taken.  Clearly, she got less than Mae and thankfully no strokes on her thighs.  Her bottom was no longer throbbing in highly intense pain. Nevertheless, she considered this strapping pretty much equivalent to one she'd get from her Jimmy.  While Jimmy's strap wasn't as heavy or the individual strokes as severe, he'd give her a lot more - like 30 to 40 strokes.  These “woodshed” strappings always ended with her howling and begging.

Upon reaching the office, she got her underpants from the drawer and put them on even though they would “hold in” the heat.  No, way, she dared go home without underwear. How could she explain that to Jimmy? She then locked up and headed out for the school.

While walking to get her kids, the throbbing, burning, stinging, aching, and itching in her hindquarters continued unabated, and Nora couldn't help thinking how severely she had been punished and how unlucky she was to have such a strict boss.  No, question she had suffered a far worse punishment than her secretary friends, whose bosses spanked with a hairbrush. Suddenly, she remembered that those bosses all sent notes home to her friends' husbands.  So, while the hairbrush spankings weren't as bad, their trips to the woodshed to have hubby's strap applied to their sore behinds might actually be much, much worse.  Consequently, life wasn't so bad after all... AND she still had her job! Not so bad, that is, providing she prevented Jimmy from seeing her black and blue, welted and bruised bottom.

For the remainder of her walk home, she planned her actions to achieve this goal of blocking Jimmy from leaning about today's discipline. Now, this turns out to be a rather difficult challenge as her backside's bruises and welts will be visible for a week or more!

Well, there you have it.  Just another day on the fruit farm, but today only two delinquents to punish. Yes, there was the bag issue, but there were challenges every day.  Heavy loading equipment frequently broke down and needed servicing.  Inmate buses were frequently late, but that was the norm. Rarely were they on schedule.  Inmates like Mae, who had trouble controlling their mouth, were also the norm.  Thus, usually there would be 3 to 6 inmates requiring "re-focus" each day.