LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

Dr. Larry Clive pulled up to the front gate of the Eastern Penitentiary for Women, otherwise known as 'The Prison Farm' from its prime function in the early days. The drive through the pastoral countryside and wooded hills had soothed the tension he was feeling about taking on a new assignment. The look and feel of the grounds, albeit surrounded by a double, ten-foot high fence with razor wire along the top, looked much less oppressive than the stone-walled fortress, where he had worked for almost five years in the western part of the state.

Clive, as he was known, presented his papers and identification to the guard in the concrete entrance building. The first set of gates opened. He drove in. They closed behind him. The second set of gates opened. He drove through up the tree-lined road toward the administration building. He could see the second set of gates closing in his rear view mirror.

The whole setting looked like a college campus with trees and lawns, well kept. But this was no college. About a quarter of a mile up the road he saw the first two female prisoners, young women in prison shifts, with two burly male guards each carrying a riding crop. One of the women looked like she had been crying. She was biting her lower lip and rubbed one of her buttocks through her dress.

It was clear that the incident with the Warden Jenkins out west, in which he had been caught on tape on the verge of raping a woman he had just punished, had not persuaded the minds of the legislators to revise or eliminate the program of strict punishment of female prisoners for breaches of discipline. It was thought that women, especially, could be reformed this way.

Then again, that was why he had a job here; he was being assigned to monitor that very program, among other things. He would head up the counseling staff, whose job was to compliment the discipline program with a nurturing process to help the women to turn their lives around. He got the job because apart from his experience out west, his doctoral dissertation had been on the topic of using Behavioral Modification Therapy to rehabilitate female prisoners. In his capacity at the western facility he was not part of the disciplinary staff, but on occasion was required to administer spankings. When he started the job, he was not much inclined to enjoy that part of the job, but in time, after seeing many women punished, he found himself somewhat turned on a bit by the whole ritual, although he'd never admit it to anyone. By the same token, he'd never seek out the opportunity to punish.

A little further up the road he noticed a squad of female prisoners, ten or so, running in formation. He was impressed. The place had a good feel to it. As a resident psychologist, he would be housed in a staff building on the grounds.