Disciplinarium

Author: Milard 1

With childhood violence reaching epoch proportions, Congress passed the Uniform Child Discipline Act of 2001.  Due to the wide variety of discipline practices allowed for children in various jurisdictions, it was determined that a federal law would best serve the public interest.  The law was sponsored by both sides of the House, and after debate, and enthusiastic reports from voters, the Senate passed it, and sent it on to the president, who quickly signed it.  The bill required parents and/or guardians to discipline minor children (defined as "not having reached the age of 18".  Corporal punishment was outlined as the form of discipline to be used.

The giant Toshiba corporation, seized the opportunity, and developed a corporal punishment machine, which they called the "X-243", but the public quickly named the "disciplinarian".  Toshiba envisioned the machines being installed in large cities, and smaller, mobile machines being available to smaller communities to share.  These mobile units were dubbed "disciplinariums" by the public, and eventually all of the punishment sites were so called.  With the federal government paying for the machines, and their expenses, it became quite clear to parents who did not relish the job of disciplining their children, that sending them off to the disciplinarium was the best thing since sliced bread.

Larger cities had units installed in urban, and suburban areas.  Each child was given a card with their social security number imprinted on it.  Parents, guardians, school officials, or public officials such as judges, or the police, could order punishment for a child by simply attaching a computer chip to the back of the card.  Children were required to carry the card at all times.  Failure to do so would allow the person ordering the punishment to 1) punish the child on the spot, and 2) double the punishment ordered by the machine.  It only took a few horror stories of kids being whacked with a policeman's belt on the bare butt on a street corner for the word to get out.  Carry the card!

The disciplinarian was set up so that it would record the type of punishment ordered (Three levels of severity), and allow a random form and amount of punishment to be given.  The disciplinariums were all set up pretty much the same.  (And, a child could go to any one of them.)  There was a waiting area, with hard plastic bences to sit on.  Then, there was a sign in machine by the door.  The child would simply swipe their card through a reader, and the machine would determine the exact type of punishment ordered.  The machine would "queue" the children up, and provide directions both in writing, on a moving sign, and verbally.  Once called, the child moved to a loced door, was allowed inside, and ordered to remove their clothing except for their shoes and socks (if any).

They were allowed 3 minutes to strip and enter the machine.  If they did not do so, additional punishment would be given to them.  Once in the machine, they were ordered to step forward, and place their feet on the yellow footprints in the floor.  Then, they were ordered to raise their hands up over their head, and grip the two pistol grips.  Soft bands inflated over their ankles, and wrists, and a padded belt was pulled over their back, exactly 2 inches above the top of their butt crack, and further bands were inflated over their upper thighs, and around their bicep muscles.

With a soft hissing sound, the machine then rocked slowly forward, lowering the child's head, and raising the target area.  The legs were then pulled forward, allowing the buttocks to hang as loose as possible, and positioning them in a proper angle.  At that time, the machine turned on a video recorder, and a monitor screen in front of the child, to record the punishment.

The screen would then lite up and indicate both in writing, and verbally, the child's name, and the type of punishment to be given.  Once punishment was finished, the child was released from the machine, and told they had 3 minutes to get dressed and leave the room, and to pick up their card from the registration machine.

Jeremy Higgens was an all around good kid.  He knew about the punishments, and had even witessed the backsides of his friends after a session, but he had never been punished, and knew that he never would be.

All this changed on that fateful Friday, when he ran his bike through a stop sign into the side of a passing car. Lukily, neither the driver, the car, nor Jeremy were injured.  Un-luckily, a police officer witnessed the incident, and rushed over to Jeremy.  After making sure that there was no damage, and no injuries, she let the driver of the car leave, and had Jeremy follow her to the sidewalk.  She asked to see his card!  With trembling fingers, Jeremy pulled it from his pocket. 

"Let's see, it says here you are 12 years old, 5 foot tall, and weigh 93 pounds.  Blonde hair and blue eyes.

Is that right?" asked the officer.

"Yes mam." said Jeremy, with a quiver in his voice.  "You aren't going to give me a punishment sticker, are you mam?"  "I've never been to the machine"

"Well, you are going tonite, son.  I think it will do you a world of good, and teach you to look where you are going.  Do you know what could have happened if you were just a little earlier?" she asked.

Crestfallen, with tears starting down his face, Jeremy could only look at the ground and sob.  The officer handed him back his card, and told him to scoot along the the disciplinarium. She told him the closest one was on 22nd street, just 3 blocks away.  With fear in his heart, he got on his bike, and rode to 22nd street.

There it was, a one story beige building, which could have held any of a million stores.  There was no missing what this building was for, however, with it's large TOSHIBA emblem, and "Disciplinarium" under it.

Jeremy parked his bike in a bike rack (They think of everything, he mused).  He then went to the door, and opened it.  He immediately noticed 3 other kids there.

There was a boy of about 7 or 8, a boy who looked like he was in high school, and, seated to his right, was Cheryl Laughton.  She was in his class at school. She was a cheerleader, and he had had a crush on her for three years.  The registration machine told him to swipe his card and take a seat.  He did so, sitting across the room from Cheryl, who looked up at him, and then put her head down in her hands and appeared to sob softly.  Just then, the metal door opened, and a sobbing, newly spanked boy of about 13 came crashing out, pulling up his shorts, as he rushed to the registration machine to retreive his card within his time frame.  Apparently, all worked out well.  He put the card into his back pocket, winced, and put in his front pocket. His face was red, but other than some redness in his eyes, he did not look all that bad.  Then the machine called the older boy, who sort of sauntered to the door.  It clicked behind him, and the kids all stared at it.  The little boy, sobbing, asked Jeremy what he was in for.  Jeremy told him.  The little boy said that he had spilled paint on! his grandmother's carpet, and she had sent him over.  The clock ticked away, and suddenly, the door opened, and the high school boy appeared, with tears and snot running down his face.  He was holding on to the seat of his pants, and grimaced with every step. He quickly grabbed his card, and left.  Jeremy's face turned white.

Just then, the machine called out a name, and the little boy quietly slipped insided.  He came out sobbing, and holding his butt.  He told Jeremy that it wasn't as bad as when his dad used the belt on him. He quickly retreived his card and left, just as the machine called for Cheryl. She slowly got up, and disappeared inside the room.  Several minutes later, the door opened.  Jeremy couldn't believe what he saw.

She was carrying her panties in her hand, and using them to soak up the snot and tears from her face.  When she bent down to retreive her card, he saw livid red marks on her bottom.  She suddenly let out a yell, as ths machine advised her that she had taken too much time to dress.  She was ordered back into the room.
In a few minutes, she ran out, still holding onto her panties.  She pulled the card out, and went quickly out the door, without a word to Jeremy.  Just then, the tinny voice announced his name!

Stiff legged, Jeremy got up, opened the door, and went into the changing room.  There, he was advised of the 3 minute rule, and quickly pulled off his tee shirt, shorts, and jockey shorts.  He moved into the chamber, and was shaking so much that he did not move onto the foot pads within the time limit.  Suddenly, he realized that the machine was telling him that he would receive additional punishment for every second he waited.  Quickly, he rushed to the foot pads, then lifted his arms as directed, and grabbed onto the pistol grip hand grips.  He felt the bands tighten around his ankles and wrists, then felt the wide band pull itself snug over his kidneys.  Then, his upper arms, and upper thighs also were fastened down.  Terror was in his heart as the machine, with a soft hiss, bent him forward and down, while raising his bottom as the same time. Then, his legs were pulled forward, and moved apart.  He felt like a letter "C".

A monitor screen lit up in front of his eyes.  It listed his name, social security number, and date.  Then it listed "LEVEL TWO" punishment and "5 ADDED STROKES".  He gulped.  He knew that level 2 punishments were twice as hard as level 1 punishments. He couldn't believe that that cop had given him a 2!  Then, the screen lit up showing a close up of his bottom.  He realized that he was all buttock.  With his legs apart, his bottom hole, and his balls were clearly in evidence.

Then he heard a sound, and turned his head to see a plastic paddle, with lots of little holes, being lifted by a mechanical hand.  Without as much as a pause, the paddle slapped into his butt.  Before he could even cry out, it hit a second time, this time lower down.  Tears dropped from his face.  He then saw the screen change from 20 to 19 to 18 as SMACK, the paddle tore into his right butt cheek. Then again, on the same spot.  Then, he felt a pause.  The screen showed 17, and for the first time, he saw his butt on the screen.  It was so red, that he didn't even believe it was his.  But he knew it was, as the screen showed the paddle flashing down from the other side, to double hit his left buttock.  Then, following another pause, it started down his butt, from the top to the extra sensitive spot where his butt and thighs meet.  Five more whacks, and the screen showed "10".  Jeremy did not think he could survive another ten swats.  His butt was cherry red, and pain kept coming in waves.  He tried to pull against his restraints, but it was all in vain.  Then, he suddenly realized that the machine had re-aligned itself again. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, it now visited his right cheek vertically, as if it were standing in front of him and hitting him.  Three more on the left side.

Jeremy was growing faint when he felt his legs being gently pulled apart, and suddenly felt the paddle smacking the insides of his crack, right next to his hole. The final 4 hit him where he never expected to be hit.  The monitor showed his butt, red, with small blue dots where the paddle holes had made their mark.

Jeremy started to relax, thinking it was finally over, when he heard a whirring sound.  The arm had appeared holding a cane.  Suddenly, he remembered the penalty strokes, as the machine gently closed his legs together, and half straigntened him up.  Then, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK! the cane sounded off like a pistol.

Jeremy felt the bands go loose and wobbily got up

His time was over. He was in too much shock to feel good.