Chapter 1

"Darling they can't really do this to me can they? There must be a way out of this?" Sophie clung to her husband, ignoring the worried stares of her three children sitting opposite. She was terrified and was sure she wouldn't be able to cope with what she was facing. "Can't you see someone, sort it out?" "Honey, I've got you off at home for shoplifting, just by paying a few officials and using my influence. But the rules in this country are very different to ours back home. These people don't even call it shoplifting, they call it stealing, and the penalties are severe. Here they put people in prison for long terms even for quite trivial offences. And I have been told very clearly that attempting to bribe anyone is considered very serious indeed. I just daren't try that, we could both find ourselves in prison. I think you just have to be glad you were offered that alternative." "Some alternative! It's going to hurt! What do you think I should do?" Michael squeezed his wife's hand, trying to give her strength to face the ordeal ahead. The man from the Justice department was due very soon and Sophie would have to give him her decision. Michael knew what he wanted her to say, but wasn't sure she would be brave enough. He knew a little about jails in this country and hated the thought of Sophie locked up in one for a year. He wasn't sure he would want her back after a year of what those places did to a woman. He had spent the last couple of hours trying to make her see that the alternative the justice department had offered was better, but Sophie was frightened of the pain and dreaded the expected humiliation. "Baby I think you have to accept what they have offered, a public caning! At least it will all be over by tomorrow evening and we can all go home." Sophie looked at her kids, sitting open mouthed, very distressed by what was being said, although her son Tim was looking unpleasantly interested! "Mom, are they going to cane you?" "Be quiet Tim, your mom isn't in the mood to talk about it," Michael admonished him.

Sophie buried her face in his chest. "How many strokes will I receive?" "They haven't said. I get the impression it's not even decided yet. I guess it sort of depends on how we behave during the interview. You must be careful not to insult them! Be apologetic and make it clear you understand and accept your punishment. Don't try to pretend you don't deserve it or anything like that. Say you are very sorry you stole and that you are extremely grateful they have offered you this option." Sophie shuddered, wondering if she could cope with acting submissively with some black official from the ministry. "I will try darling," she mumbled. "But do you think it will be six strokes? More?" "Baby there's just no way I can guess right now! I'm sure this guy will tell us in a few minutes, just try and be patient." Sophie sat back, emotionally drained. It was nearly seven hours since she had been caught trying to smuggle that bracelet out of the shop. Lisa, her youngest daughter, chipped in with, "Mommy are you really going to be caned?" She sounded more excited than alarmed, and Sophie glared at her. Michael told Lisa to try and be a bit more sympathetic.

Lisa's brother Tim dug her in the ribs, he obviously loved the thought of his mom touching her toes and having her panties taken down! Then he asked, "Did mom say it's going to be a public caning? Can we watch, dad?" "SHUT UP," howled Sophie just as the doorbell rang.

Michael told the kids to be silent, while Sophie went reluctantly to admit the man from the Justice Department. She was surprised that it was the same man who had come to the shop to arrest her that morning! He was black, and tall, perhaps forty years old. And beside him was the shop owner, in his fifties! Both men were looking stern!

She remembered the horror of that morning, when she had been stopped trying to leave the man's jewelry store with a bracelet she hadn't paid for. The shopkeeper had forced her to go with him to a back office, and had locked her in there while he went off to summon the police. The policeman had arrived soon after and had interrogated her at humiliating length while the shopkeeper sat listening avidly. Then the policeman used his phone to report to his superiors, going into great length to tell the person on the other end of the line what had happened. He even described Sophie, in excruciating detail, as though that was relevant!

Then he listened for a few minutes, and finally said, "Yes, alright, if that's your decision." Putting the phone down, he seemed to be surprised by what he had been told. He had turned to her and said, "Normally you would go to prison for a year or more for stealing such a valuable bracelet. However in view of you being a tourist, they have decided to offer you an alternative punishment. The choice is yours, a year in prison or a public caning." She had been too shocked by that to respond, and had sat helplessly while he continued. He had instructed her to be in her hotel room at six o'clock that evening, waiting with her family present, ready to give her decision. If she opted for prison she should have her bag packed ready to go. "Just take some underwear, everything else will be provided." He had told her that, if she decided to take the caning, she would be caned next morning some time after ten o'clock. The man in her hotel room would tell her more about what was involved, where she had to go for it, and what she was to wear.

She was still too shocked to ask questions, and was left pale and shaking as the man walked out.

The shopkeeper had grinned at her and asked if she would like a drink, and she nodded, and he handed her a glass of wine. She sipped it, then turned to him. "Please, what did he mean, a public caning?" "Just that, you will be caned on your bare bottom. It hurts, but it's better than the alternative. You are very lucky. Not everyone is given that option. But our prisons are awful even by our nation's living standards, and very overcrowded, so anybody allowed to take the caning normally is grateful to do so, and the state benefits by not having the cost of keeping you in prison. You really should take the cane, and be ready to say that when he comes to see you tonight. Believe me honey, you really wouldn't want a year in one of our jails." He took her hand and squeezed it sympathetically. "Mrs Russell, I am sorry that you will be suffering tomorrow but you must admit it was your fault." She nodded reluctantly, and thanked him for his concern and left the shop.

At home she had told her husband Michael what had happened, and he had been quite unsympathetic. Once before, back in America, Sophie had shop-lifted something, more for the excitement than because she wanted it, and Michael had managed to pay off the shopkeeper, and got her off. She had assumed Michael could, and would, do the same here, and gave him the phone number that the policeman had left with her. He phoned the number and talked for some time, then came back to her and said that there was nothing he could do.

"They made it clear that if I attempt to bribe the man when he attends tonight then I will go to jail, after you and I both take a caning. Sorry Sophie I'm not prepared to risk it. You deserve punishment and a caning seems to be appropriate." And now that awful policeman and the man from the shop were in the front door of her hotel room, waiting to be taken through to meet her family and hear her decision.

"Good evening Mrs Russell." the policeman said, his voice deep, gravelly. Sophie tried to reply courteously but her mouth was so dry she could hardly speak. "Hello sir," she croaked.

The policeman gestured to the other man, the shop owner who had apprehended her. "I have invited Mr Odinga to be present this evening. If you opt to accept the caning then he will need to arrange for someone to manage his shop tomorrow so that he can attend." Sophie looked at Mr Odinga's grinning face and flushed scarlet at the realization that he was looking forward to watching her being caned! She nodded a reluctant acceptance of his presence. "Hello Mr Odinga," she muttered.

The policeman continued. "You were instructed to have your family present for this meeting. Are they here?" "Yes, through there," she groaned, gesturing to the lounge room. The men walked ahead of her.

Michael was standing when they entered, looking very worried. Mr Odinga stopped with his back against the wall beside the living room door, while the policeman walked confidently into the middle of the room, looking at the three children on one sofa before turning to Sophie's husband. "Mr Russell?" "Yes," Michael responded.

"I am Sergeant Jacoob. I presume you know that I had cause to arrest your wife this morning for theft. Rather surprisingly the authorities have offered her the option of a public caning instead of jail, and I am here now to learn her decision." He waited for those awful words to sink in, then turned to Sophie. "Have you decided?" She nodded and whispered, "I don't want to go to prison." "That is not sufficient, Mrs Russell, I need you to say, clearly and precisely, that you have decided to take the public caning." Sophie took several deep breaths, cleared her throat, glanced at her three children, then turned back to the man. "I wish to have the public caning rather than going to prison," she whispered.

"Please say clearly that you wish to be caned." She looked at him, flushing, and said clearly, "Sir I wish to be caned." The man took a form from his jacket pocket and handed it to Sophie. She read 'I' (and here someone had filled in her name and address) 'have chosen to receive a public caning / a year in prison (circle the chosen option and delete the other option)'. Below that was a place for her to sign beside which someone had again written her name, and further down there were places for other signatures, Justice Department official, witnesses, and 'husband / parent / guardian', against which someone had written 'Mr Michael Russell'.

"Please circle the option you have chosen then sign against your name." Sophie's hand was shaking so badly she could barely manage even those simple tasks. The man signed as the official, then turned to Mr Odinga. "Would you please sign as witness?" Mr Odinga did so, and the form was given to Sophie's husband. "Please also sign, to verify that you agree to your wife receiving the prescribed punishment." Michael asked, "Can you tell me how many strokes she will receive?" "No. Please sign where I have indicated." When Michael had done this, the man flipped the form over and said, "Since your wife has opted for the caning I am required to prepare her for the punishment that has been determined for her. I will also have to examine your wife and ensure she is fit to receive the cane. Please sign here to give your consent for this to be done." Michael looked at his wife before signing the form, wondering exactly what this meant. But rather than question the man's authority he just signed the form, giving his consent for whatever process the authorities decreed his wife must undergo.

When the completed form was back in his pocket, the man said, "Very well, please be seated, Mr Russell, on the sofa. Mrs Russell, please stand beside me." As they took the positions allocated, the man turned to the three children. "You are all the children of Mr and Mrs Russell?" They all nodded. "Your names and ages please." He nodded at the girl on the left, whom he correctly judged to be the oldest.

"I'm Jessica, 19," the pretty blonde child whispered. He had his notebook out, and as Jessica replied he made a note, obviously checking her response against the details Sophie had supplied that morning.

"Thank you Jessica. You?" "I'm Tim, I'm 17," the boy replied, trying to sound nonchalant but looking flushed.

"And you, young lady?" The youngest child tried to smile as she nervously replied, "I'm Lisa, 16." "Good, that means you are all old enough to be present for your mother's caning." Sophie went pale! "Surely not!" "I distinctly remember telling you that it would be a public flogging. Surely you realized that would mean your family would be present?" "I thought you just meant that Michael would be there!" "No, we believe that all members of the family should be present when punishment is applied. So we will reserve four seats right at the front for your family." "How many others will be there?" "We normally use a room in the Justice Department, and always have a full house for canings. But for a white woman's punishment there will be much more interest, and it has been decided that your punishment tomorrow morning will be administered in a public park in the city, to avoid problems with crowd control. I am sure there will be a good turnout." Sophie thought she would die! But the man continued as though unaware of the effect his words were having.

"Allow me to confirm some details from this morning's questioning. How old are you Mrs Russell?" "Thirty eight, Sir," Sophie whispered.

"Please speak up. You will be asked questions as part of your discipline tomorrow and I expect good clear loud answers that are audible to everyone in the audience, is that clear? It is quite a large park, and there are no microphones. So, how old are you Mrs Russell?" "Thirty eight sir," Sophie said, trying to speak clearly despite the tremors running through her whole body. He took her through the other questions he had asked that morning, and she flushed as she answered, with her name, age, address, marital status, and some much more personal things that seemed unrelated to the offence. Why did he, and apparently the audience, need to know her bust, waist and hip sizes? Would she really have to tell the audience such things?

Finally he asked, "Have you ever been caned before, Mrs Russell?" "No sir," Sophie panted, face pale, sweat on her brow.

"What about your family? Have any of you been caned?" He looked first at Michael, who shook his head quickly, then swung his gaze around the room and the three children all shook their heads vehemently. "I gather that corporal punishment is no longer used in your country. That explains why Mrs Russell is here now awaiting the discipline she should have received many years ago. Perhaps this will be a lesson for all of you, and that is why the State expects you all to attend." "How many strokes will I receive sir?" Sophie whispered.

"That will be my decision, Mrs Russell. The normal absolute minimum is twelve. But based on your performance this evening I may increase that, and could even reduce it. Remission for good behaviour, as it were." That left Sophie gasping, wondering exactly what performance he meant, and what would constitute good behaviour.

"First, I need to check you physically, to determine your ability to accept the caning that you are due to receive. Are you wearing panty hose, Mrs Russell?" Sophie flushed but muttered that, no, she was wearing stay-up stockings.

"Very nice. Please wear them tomorrow. I presume that you are wearing panties, and if so please push them down to your knees." Sophie stood looking at him, open mouthed, for a few moments then lifted her skirt and reached up under it, thumbing the panties down, her son looking in awe at the bare thighs above her stocking tops as she did so, and not quite managing to get a glimpse of her crotch. After the panties were at her knees, Sergeant Jacoob gave Tim what he wanted!