Minister Devon and Baron Crawford had the Magistrate office standing on their toes in no time, and the clearly upset Magistrate Chief rushed to their assistance. They found Anita Fohlstrom in less than an hour in one of the dungeon cells beneath the main building of the Correctional Institution. The girl was laying face down on the narrow bench with her skirts folded up over her back and her bottom bared and marked all over hundreds tiny red swellings.
Anita had turned her head towards the door when it opened but did not make a move to cover herself, neither did she close her eyes or react in any way.
“Oh my God !” said the Baron.
“The prisoner was birched on the flogging bench this morning “, the guard said.
The Baron went over to the bench and covered Anita’s nakedness with a soft blanket, and striking gently her hair he felt a strong compassion and warmth for the poor girl.
“Anita…this is Baron Crawford I have come to take you home ” he said kneeling down beside her and touched her cheeks in a gentle, fatherly way.
Anita looked at him. At first, it seemed that she looked into an endless emptiness but suddenly there was a reaction. Her eyes started to wet when the first teardrops filled the corners of her eyes.
“Baron…” she whispered
The whole plot was slowly unfolding.

The lights had gone out for the night when Peter Crawford heard the soft knock on his bedroom door.
“Anita, what? Come in…” he said, when he found her behind his door in her small nightie. She looked ravishingly beautiful, smelling fresh and soft.
“I…cannot sleep…Sir “, she whispered, and her moist, blue eyes told Peter she really needed someone.
He took Anita in his arms, feeling the warmth of her soft, warm skin through the thin nightgown. Anita responded to his kiss in a way Peter had never experienced before, clinging herself onto him in a manner that gave him an immediate erection.
When he lowered her onto his bed, he did not know if it was he or she who took the initiative. One thing was clear though, Anita needed a fuck and she needed it badly. And, after all, she was not a virgin any more. No young women who was released from the House of Correction was a virgin any more. For the unwilling and especially for some young suffragettes with an “attitude” they had that humiliating fucking trestle with the adjustable restraints… With her nightgown removed from her voluptuous beautiful body she reached out for Peter in a state of hunger and a pulsating urge for love and relief. Her trembling fingers clawed into his neck drawing him closer. However, she still felt that something was missing.
“I need to be tied ” she whispered, biting her lower lip, surprising Peter totally in a way he had not expected. He had been ready to enter her right there and then, but when his dizzy brain finally comprehended her words his first reaction was the disappointment for the interruption but immediately after that his dominant tendencies in his sex life caused his erecting member to swell out into maximum size.
“I don’t have any ropes in here ” he groaned in despair.