Pillory Park
by Richard Lovel – Copyright 2025 – All rights reserved
Chapter 2 – First Offender
Gladys arrived at Pillory Plaza, the centerpiece of the park’s disciplinary features, a circular amphitheater where justice merged with public entertainment. The morning sun glinted on the shiny stone of the elevated stage at the center, where a PostureFrame™ 2.0 Pillory System was ready. The seats arranged in tiers around the platform were already filling up with women of different ages, their excited chatter forming a constant buzz.
Gladys Reever welcomed her trainee, Lucy, whose pale blonde ponytail bobbed with every step. Lucy’s hazel-green eyes were wide as she absorbed the vastness of the venue, trembling with excitement next to Gladys.
“I’m a little nervous,” Lucy whispered, “Do you think I look professional enough?”
Gladys gave her trainee an appraising look, reaching out to straighten Lucy’s identification badge. “You look just fine, sugar. Remember, it’s not about how we look—it’s about how they look when we’re done with ’em. Though,” taking a second look at her trainee, “those fellas are gonna get an eyeful of you regardless. Pretty young thing like yourself—they’ll be standing at attention before you even touch ’em.” Lucy blushed, self-consciously but not unpleased.
Gladys inspected the restraints and genital manipulators on the Pillory while Lucy cleaned the semen-capture and drainage apparatus. They fine-tuned the large screens placed strategically around the plaza that would capture and display every grimace, every blush of embarrassment, and every involuntary physical reaction.
“Now, today’s schedule is pretty straightforward,” Gladys explained, pulling a glittery clipboard from Lucy’s hands and flipping through the attached papers. “Two demonstrations—basic exposure with supplementary spanking for the first offender, followed by an edging and ruined orgasm sequence for the second. You’ll observe the first one, then assist with the second.”
Lucy nodded eagerly, her ponytail swinging. “Omg, I’m so ready. I’ve been practicing the penis pinch technique on a simulator all week.”
Excited murmurs filled the audience as two officers led a short, plump man to center stage. Despite being cuffed, he exuded defiance. His expensive charcoal gray pinstripe suit, once a symbol of authority, now seemed powerless. The officers placed him at the center and moved back, while Gladys stepped forward, tapping the microphone on her collar.
“Good morning, ladies,” she began, her tone conversational yet authoritative. “I’m Senior Pillory Matron Gladys Reever, and this bright young thing beside me is Trainee Lucy Teasley, who’ll be assisting with today’s demonstrations.” She gestured toward Lucy, who gave a small wave and a nervous smile.
“Today’s first subject is Roger Stucker, age forty-two, cited for repeated incidents of mansplaining to female colleagues at the Department of Urban Planning.” Gladys circled Roger slowly as she spoke, her sensible boots clicking against the platform. “According to the complaint, Mr. Stucker has developed a habit of interrupting female presenters during project meetings to explain concepts they had already articulated, often using identical information but presented as if it were his own unique insight.”
A collective murmur of recognition rippled through the female audience—the shared experience of being talked over made manifest in their collective response.
Roger rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath that made Gladys pause in her circuit around him.
“You have something to add, Mr. Stucker?” she asked, her tone still pleasant but with a new edge.
“This is ridiculous,” he said, loud enough for the first few rows to hear. “I was just trying to clarify complex zoning regulations for the benefit of the team.”
Gladys’s smile didn’t waver. “Well now, clarification is precisely what we’re offering you today. Let’s start with a simple instruction: Mr. Stucker, please remove all of your clothing.”
A flash of genuine alarm crossed his face. “Here? Now?”
“Unless you’d prefer assistance from security,” Gladys replied mildly, gesturing toward the officers standing ready.
Roger’s hands trembled as he struggled to loosen his tie, hindered by the cuffs an officer temporarily removed. The audience watched as he shed his suit jacket, tie, and white shirt, revealing a soft, pale torso. Hesitating at his belt, Gladys cleared her throat, prompting him to remove his shoes, socks, trousers, and finally, after a pause, his underwear. He stood naked, covering his genitals, his face flushed with anger and embarrassment.
“Hands at your sides,” Gladys instructed. He complied, revealing a penis that shrank under the collective gaze of hundreds of women.
She pointed to the gleaming PostureFrame™ 2.0. “Mr. Stucker, please approach and assume the position.” Roger hesitated, glancing around for an escape. A nod from Gladys brought security forward, prompting his reluctant compliance. He shuffled toward the device, his face reddening. “Bend forward, place your head and wrists in the openings,” Gladys instructed, as if teaching a child to tie shoelaces.
As Roger leaned forward, Gladys and Lucy secured him in the apparatus. The top section encircled his neck and wrists with a soft hydraulic hiss, magnetic seals clicking into place. Simultaneously, the lower spreader-bar mechanism locked his ankles in cushioned cuffs, forcing his legs wide apart. His spine arched forward, arms immobilized and head fixed to face the audience. Most notably, his genitals dangled openly between his parted thighs, fully exposed to every onlooker and displayed in stark detail on the surrounding screens.
“There we go,” Gladys said cheerfully, patting Roger’s exposed buttock as one might pat a dog. “All snug as a bug in a rug, aren’t we? Much more comfortable than that stuffy suit, I’d wager.” She circled around to face him, bending slightly to meet his eyes. “All that expensive tailoring just to hide what nature gave you. Seems silly now, doesn’t it?”
Roger’s face contorted with humiliation as titters rippled through the audience.
“And look at the view everyone gets,” Gladys continued, gesturing broadly toward the audience. “Not a bad seat in the house. They can see everything—especially that little package dangling so nicely between your legs. Wave hello, ladies!” On the large screens, Roger’s face was shown alongside a split view of his exposed genitals. The audience reacted with gleeful laughter and some rude gestures.
Roger’s face, now level with Gladys’s waist, reflected his shift from defiance to helplessness. His eyes, darting between the audience and technicians, showed rising panic. Lucy watched keenly, clipboard in hand, noting the contrast between Roger’s vulnerability and Gladys’s calm authority. The audience was captivated by the change, as Roger’s silent objections were rendered futile by the conspicuous PostureFrame™ 2.0, leaving him exposed to the female gaze.
“Now, ladies, what we’re doin’ here today is all about makin’ thees fellas remember their missteps long after they’ve left our little stage.” She picked up a matte black paddle, showing it to the audience. “The magic happens when we connect their behaviors with the memory of standin’ out here naked and getting a good paddlin’. They’ll think twice before pullin’ that nonsense again, I promise ya.”
Lucy stood at attention nearby, occasionally jotting notes. Looking at Roger’s naked helpless buttocks and Gladys poised to spank them, she felt an odd stirring in her loins, not at all what she expected.
Gladys stepped to the side of Roger’s exposed form, paddle dangling casually in her right hand. “Now, I’ll start with medium strikes to gauge his response,” she declared. “Watch for facial expressions and muscle twitches.” The paddle struck Roger’s left buttock with a sharp crack that resonated through the amphitheater. His body jolted against the restraints of the PostureFrame™ 2.0, a grunt slipping out despite his efforts to maintain composure.
“That’s it,” Gladys encouraged, a smile curling her lips. “Let it out, champ. Those noises? Just your pride packing its bags.” She followed up with three swift strikes, alternating between buttocks with practiced ease. The pale skin quickly blushed under her expert touch. Roger’s initial grunts transformed into deeper sounds—not quite shouts but strained breaths he couldn’t hold back. His face flushed crimson, visible to the audience and magnified on the surrounding screens, creeping down his neck like shame itself.
“I’ll switch to hand spanking for a more personal touch,” Gladys declared, her gloved palm on Roger’s already reddened backside. “Just so he’ll know it comes from a woman.” With a sharp slap, her palm met his flesh, followed by a fleeting caress that teased at comfort before another strike landed. The rhythm was unmistakable—strike, caress, strike.
A woman in the third row raised her hand, and Gladys paused, acknowledging her. “Senior Matron, does the caressing element confuse the corrective message?” the woman asked.
“Great question, mam,” Gladys said, maintaining her steady rhythm of strike and caress. “In fact, it makes things even better. Creates a little confusion in their heads. When a man can’t figure out if he’s gonna feel pain or pleasure next, his brain gets all tuned in to the lesson we’re teaching.”
Throughout the exchange, Roger quietly protested, “This is absurd,” and “completely unnecessary spectacle,” as slaps reddened his skin. “I’m a respected urban planner,” he hissed after a stinging blow. Yet, despite his verbal resistance, his penis began to lengthen and thicken with each impact from Gladys’s hand.
Lucy noticed the change, her eyes widening. A small giggle escaped her lips before she clapped her hand over her mouth, attempting to regain her professional demeanor. “Um… Matron Reever,” Lucy whispered, “Look at what’s happening down there.”
Gladys paused her spanking to circle around to Roger’s front, bending slightly to meet his mortified gaze. “Well, well. Your little friend down there seems to be enjoying our ‘ridiculous’ and ‘completely unnecessary’ correction,” she announced, her voice carrying throughout the plaza.
Roger’s humiliation visibly intensified, “This is—this doesn’t mean anything,” he protested, his voice strained. “It’s just a physical reaction.”
“Sure it is honey. That little thing just has a mind of its own.” Gladys resumed the spanking, now alternating between the paddle and her hand with increasing intensity. Each impact elicited a jerk from Roger’s body, and with each movement, his erection bobbed between his legs, now fully engorged.
The audience leaned in, anticipation rising as Roger’s arousal increased. His breathing grew labored, sweat beading on him. His protests turned into gasps, his defiance shattered by his body’s response. Gladys delivered firm paddle strikes, setting a faster rhythm that vibrated through him.
Lucy’s clipboard slipped in her suddenly clammy hands. She caught it with a fumble, her heartbeat accelerating as she watched Roger’s penis bobb with each impact. Her mouth felt dry, and she licked her lips unconsciously.
“Everything alright there, Trainee?” Gladys asked without breaking her rhythm, a knowing gleam in her eye.
“Yes, Matron,” Lucy replied, her voice higher than normal. “Just… taking mental notes.” She shifted her weight, feeling unexpected dampness between her thighs. Her training hadn’t prepared her for the visceral response to witnessing a man’s pride turn into shameful arousal.
Gladys mocked and taunted him as she spanked. “Now you be careful, Mr. Stucker. Don’t you go popping off. You don’t want to be making a mess right here in front of all your friends, do ya? That would be so embarrassing.” She leaned over and whispered to Lucy: “Watch close now, honey. Roger’s about to lose it.”
Without warning, Roger’s body convulsed within its restraints. A strangled sound—half protest, half pleasure—escaped his throat as his penis pulsed visibly. Semen spurted from his untouched member in several strong jets, collecting in the drainage tray positioned beneath the pillory for this precise purpose.
The audience erupted in applause and cheers, several women rising to their feet in appreciation, some brazenly with their hands between their legs. The screens captured the moment in high definition—Roger’s face contorted in unwilling ecstasy, his body trembling through the final spasms of release. Roger hung limply in the restraints, the fight completely drained from him. His expression had transformed from defiance to a dazed surrender, sweat-dampened hair hanging over his forehead as he panted softly. The once-proud Department of Urban Planning employee had been reduced to his most basic elements, and total submission to female authority.
Gladys stepped back, allowing everyone a clear view of the aftermath. “And there we have it,” she announced, satisfaction evident in her voice. “That’s gonna make a heck of a trainin’ video for your HR team, Mr. Stucker.”
As the officers led a still-trembling Roger off the platform, Lucy pressed her thighs together, her breathing shallow and quick. The clipboard she clutched against her chest couldn’t hide the way her nipples had hardened beneath her technician’s tunic. A flush spread across her cheeks that had nothing to do with the morning sun.
“I… I need a moment,” she whispered to Gladys, her voice unsteady. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”
Gladys’s eyes crinkled with motherly understanding as she placed a steadying hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “Oh, honey lamb,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only Lucy could hear. “What you’re feeling is perfectly normal—standard issue, even. First time I performed a correction, I had to change my nickers afterward.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “Really? You too?”
“Course I did. Why d’you think we have those private Comfort Stations for staff?” Gladys gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Tell you what—after we finish up with our next fella, I’ll show you exactly how to handle that little situation brewing in your panties. It’s one of the unwritten perks of our profession.”
Lucy’s blush deepened, but relief flooded her features. “Thank you, Matron Reever.”
“Call me Gladys, honey. We’re gettin’ to know each other.”
~~~ continued ~~~
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Pillory Park | by Richard Lovel | Copyright 2025 | All rights reserved
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
RL-2025-07-05