Justice under the New Laws: by The Bitchfinder-General Part One: Sarah in the Pillory: Sarah Williams had good reason to be worried. Since the Justice Party had won the recent elections on an extreme anti-feminist programme, they had introduced numerous laws that had long ago been dropped from the statute books. Among the most popular of the new changes to the criminal system was the reintroduction of public punishment. This could be as minor as forcing an offender to parade through the streets wearing a dunce's cap and clown costume, right up to capital punishment, which had not only been brought back but was now conducted in full public view. It was even shown live on television and videos of the events were now best-sellers. One of the most popular of all the new measures was bringing back the pillory and stocks. The sight of offenders - especially young female ones - being helpless as the community threw things at them seemed to attract huge crowds of enthusiastic participants. Sarah was an eighteen-year old girl who had been found guilty of shoplifting. She had been caught red-handed and the security guard at the store had put her into handcuffs and restraints before the police arrived and took her off to a cell to formally charge her with theft. She hoped that her youth and sex would let her get off more lightly, but the judge looked sternly at her as he read out her sentence. There was no hint of mercy in his cold eyes. "Sarah Williams, I hereby sentence you to a session in the pillory, followed by a further session in the stocks, a lashing at the public whipping post, and 180 days of community service." He paused for a moment before continuing to pronounce sentence. "You will also be required to wear a placard around your neck for the next two years bearing the word "thief." Do you have anything to say before I order the punishment to be carried out?" Tears filled Sarah's eyes. She felt absolutely helpless. It was so unfair, she thought. Of course she shouldn't have tried to steal that designer outfit from the department store. But how could she afford it on her wages? Now, under the new laws, she was going to suffer one of the most dreaded punishments of all. She knew that she'd been stupid - but perhaps the judge might have pity on your youth? She tried to plead with him, anyway. "Please, Your Honour, I'm really sorry that I stole those clothes. I didn't really mean to. It was a spur of the moment thing, you see. I can't afford clothes like that on my wages and I thought if I could just have one really nice outfit ... well, it would.." Her voice tailed away in confusion. She realised that she was saying all the wrong things. Shaking her head sadly, she looked at the judge once more. "I'm very sorry, Your Honour. There was no excuse for what I did. I can only throw myself on the court's mercy." The judge only looked at her sternly and shook his head. "You ask the court for mercy, yet you have just tried to excuse your crime. Clearly, you are not truly penitent and need to feel the full majesty of the law's chastisement to acquaint you with the full gravity of your offence. In fact," he added, "the attitude you have demonstrated just now minds me to increase your sentence. You will serve 365 days of community service instead of the 180 that I felt you originally deserved. Do you have anything further to say to this court, Williams?" "No, Your Honour," said Sarah quickly. "Good," the judge smiled. "The first part of the sentence will be carried out tomorrow morning in the main town square. You will be held in custody overnight and then brought into the presence of the pillory for your public punishment." He paused briefly before continuing. "Let this be a lesson to you, Williams, and to all others who think that they can transgress the law with impunity." Sarah was led away, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had a good idea that her time in the pillory was not going to be at all pleasant. Sarah had already seen many local girls, especially the whores, hanging for hours in the pillory while the crowd pelted them with abuse, rotten vegetables and anything else that came to hand. Morning came, and Sarah was led out to face the waiting crowd. There was always a large number of people only too anxious to watch a pretty girl being punished in the pillory. Especially when they got to help out with her punishment! Sarah was led out on to the main public square of the town. Her wrists were handcuffed behind her back, her legs fixed in metal shackles, and a huge ball-gag firmly placed in her silently protesting mouth. The crowd burst out laughing at the sight, almost baying for blood. They quickly surrounded Sarah and only the presence of the two burly policemen who were bringing her to the pillory prevented them from manhandling the poor girl. She stared at the people gathered round, her eyes pleading for mercy. But this crowd was in no mood to show her any kind of mercy. All they wanted was to see her suffer abuse and insults in the pillory. Sarah gazed upon the wooden construction that was to be her instrument of torment for goodness only knew how long. Since the new laws had come in, some victims had been left in these infernal devices for up to 24 hours. In spite of the warmth of the day, Sarah shivered as she hoped that her ordeal would be a brief one. There were two posts on either side of the pillory, with two boards placed horizontally across it. In the centre of the twin boards was an opening for the girl's neck, with two much smaller holes to hold her wrists. A steel band was also set in the centre of the pillory, its purpose to secure the victim by her waist. A padlock was attached to the band which, when locked, removed even the slightest possibility of escape. As Sarah stood before the pillory, trembling, one of the policemen unlocked the padlock. He turned to the crowd theatrically and said, "By the sentence of the court, Sarah Williams has been found guilty of theft. The decree of the court is that Williams shall serve the first part of her punishment in the pillory. However, as is the custom, it shall be for the good citizens of this town to decide the manner and duration of her punishment. What say you, then, to the question of how Williams shall be punished? Shall it be clothed or naked?" "Naked!" came the unanimous roar from the crowd. "Strip the bitch naked for her just punishment!" Sarah stared at the people around her in disbelief and shame. She noted sourly that the women of the town were as eager as the men to see her body stripped and abused in public. "Naked it shall be, then," the officer announced the decision. "And as to time - how many hours shall Williams stand before you naked in the pillory? One, two, four, six, eight, sixteen, or twenty-four?" "Let the bitch stay there for twenty-four hours!" came the unanimous cry of the crowd. Now fresh tears flowed once more down Sarah's cheeks. 24 hours naked in the pillory! Could she stand it for so long? And how bad would it be? She shivered once more at the prospect that faced her. The rough hands of the policemen stripped Sarah of every vestige of clothing. Her shoes were removed first, then her T-shirt, then her jeans, and then her tights. She now stood before the crowd dressed only in her bra and knickers. As Sarah stood there mortified, exposed to public shame, the policemen addressed the crowd again. "Let all who wish come forward and examine the bitch Williams before she faces her just punishment. Two at a time, please." Eagerly, the men rushed forward, intent on one of the favourite parts of pillorying a woman. Sarah knew what was coming but the reality still surprised her. Rough hands, two at a time, fondled her large breasts, squeezed the cheeks of her arse, and probed and teased the soft flesh of her pubic regions. Sarah wept again with the shame and humiliation of it all. When they had finished, each man also took good care to pull on the straps of her bra as hard as he could before letting to. The crowd roared with laughter as Sarah flinched away from the snapping of the bra straps on the flesh of her back. She wondered what else they would get up to before the worst part of her punishment began. It was not long before she found out. The policemen removed her bra and knickers before making Sarah face the crowd in unadorned nakedness. Her face blushed with the shame of it all, which of course made the crowd laugh even more. Then, for the briefest of moments, Sarah was free. The policemen removed the cuffs from her wrists and then the shackles from her legs, even though they took good care to keep her held while they unlocked her. If Sarah gasped for a moment at the relief of her brief freedom, her joy was short-lived. With an obviously practiced efficiency, her head and arms were quickly fitted into the hole designed to contain her neck. Then her wrists were placed into the twin holes intended to fasten them securely. The steel band was fitted around her waist and shut tightly. Her ordeal would start soon. Then one of the police officers snapped shut the padlock, turning a combination on it for good measure. It was now not only impossible for Sarah to escape from the pillory, but also extremely difficult for her to move at all. That was, of course, the intention of the deliberately rigid bondage into which she had been so cruelly placed. Sarah, who was only 5ft 4 inches tall, found even the height of the pillory oppressive. Her small chin was forced to push down hard down on the bottom board, adding to her discomfort. Her hands, of course, were fastened in place very securely indeed by the twin wrist holes. The crowd roared with delight at seeing the young girl locked firmly into her uncomfortable place, only her head and wrists protruding through the holes. Her legs and the lower part of her body were not shackled, though this was not an act of mercy, but designed deliberately with the intention of increasing her suffering. Sarah stood, or rather hung there, her head and wrists firmly encased in their wooden prison, to the delight of the crowd. She was forced to arch her back and keep her legs as tightly together as possible, realising that any other position would be even more uncomfortable for her to maintain, especially over a period of 24 hours. Not that she could move around much in the pillory anyway. Her posture was the best in the difficult state of affairs that she found herself in at present. The senior policeman then turned to her for a minute before the commencement of the main event. "Williams, having been found justly guilty by the sentence of the court, you are about to receive your well-deserved punishment." Removing her gag at last, he asked her, "Do you have anything to say to the crowd before sentence is carried out upon you?" Sarah thought for a moment about pleading with them for mercy, but one look at the faces of the crowd made her realise how hopeless and futile a gesture that would have been. A mixture of lust and cruelty played over their faces, and she knew that it would only humiliate her further even to try to appeal to their better nature. "No, sir," she said, after a moment's thought. "Good. Then let the sentence of the court be carried out on the person of this reprobate criminal!" the policeman shouted to the crowd. "Unload the ammunition!" From a waiting van, boxes of rotten fruit, rotten eggs, vegetables and tomatoes suddenly appeared, as well as boxes of custard pies. The crowd seized the missiles eagerly. Men, women and children all grabbed an egg, a tomato, a maggoty apple, a custard pie, and began hurling them at the unfortunate victim, held fast in the pillory, hardly able to move at all, still less dodge the well-aimed and continual hail of missiles. Sarah, helpless in her wooden prison, was hit by a steady stream of rotten eggs,tomatoes, apples, cabbages and custard pies. Though the day was hot, yesterday it had rained, and the crowd also seized clumps of mud from the slowly drying earth. The mud, of course, hurt more than the other missiles targeting her, but all of them were extremely unpleasant. The filthy garbage struck her full in the face, again and again and again. The crowd's determination was relentless and their accuracy impressive. Soon Sarah's light brown hair was thickly coated with the foul stuff that was being hurled at her. Her face was also covered with dripping "gunge." Nor could she move at all, even to dodge some of the missiles, much less escape from the constant torment that assailed her from all quarters. Her face and head were constantly hit, but Sarah consoled herself with the fact that at least her body was not suffering much. Only the very occasional missile managed to hit her below the region of her exposed head. In spite of herself, for all the shame she felt, and even though she knew it would make no difference to the behaviour of the crowd, Sarah had grown desperate. With tears trickling through the foul stuff that coated her smeared and now bruised and slightly bleeding face, she pleaded forlornly with the crowd, but of course in vain. "Please, don't hurt me any more, please," she sobbed. "This really hurts and surely I don't deserve this much punishment?" The crowd only laughed. There only response was to throw even more missiles than before, faster and harder. Sarah wept in her pain and humiliation, while the crowd just kept on targeting the helpless girl in her prison of wood. Although it seemed to Sarah as if her punishment lasted for days, it was only two hours before the crowd had almost run out of ammunition. By that time her hair and whole face was coated with slimy eggs, rotten tomatoes, cabbages and custard pies. Some of the food by now had found its way into her mouth and ears, even her eyes. The morass of swill was not only continuing to run all down her face and all over her head, it was also slowly drying on her skin and congealing in the hot sun. The van driver then went off to collect yet more missiles to throw at Sarah. However, there was still enough gungy stuff to hand to keep the "entertainment" going. A man picked up an egg and walked over to Sarah, slowly and deliberately. "Enjoy your eggs, cunt," he laughed, breaking the egg right on her forehead. The crowd roared as its shell cracked and the slimy white and yoke ran all down the young girl's face and hair. Sarah was not only frightened, humiliated and in pain from her pillorying. The stench of the rotten food was making her feel extremely nauseous. Then the crowd, with the supply of regular missiles almost exhausted, and still waiting for the van to return with fresh supplies, picked up the plentiful supplies of dog-shit that lay to hand. There were numerous dogs in the square, all watching the "fun" excitedly. Naturally, they deposited quantities of shit everywhere. The crowd started picking up the dog-shit and deliberately hurling it right into Sarah's unprotected face. "Gotcha, bitch!" yelled one delighted man, as he caught the young girl right in the middle of her face. "Shit for a piece of shit!" the crowd yelled. Sarah's pelting with dog-shit lasted for a full ten minutes before the van returned with fresh supplies. By now, the poor girl had been pelted continuously in the pillory for almost three hours. Sarah's cramped body was in agony as she hung there, being pelted with refuse and dog-shit, and also having to listen to the insulting remarks of the local people. Even her "friends" joined in the mocking. There was a brief pause while the crates of fresh ammunition were being unloaded. For Sarah it was a blessed, if temporary, relief. However, her ordeal still continued on the mental level. The crowd began to make lewd comments about her. "Fat slag! Big-titted slut! Fat-arsed bitch! Fucking whore!" were just some of the insults thrown at her. Then, in the interval between replenishing the missiles, they wandered up to her and spat deliberately in her face. "Take that, cunt!" and similar obscene comments about her were made while they were doing it. Then the men surged forward, getting behind the pillory, and deliberately pawing and groping her tits and cunt and arse. Sarah wept in her shame and humiliation. The day continued with a steady stream of new eggs, tomatoes, cabbages, rotten fruit and dog-shit coming her way. Sarah, her eyes almost closed up under the assault of filth that covered her face, was gasping for breath by now. Yet it seemed that whenever she tried to take a breath of air she only received a mouthful of stinking eggs or vegetables or worse. Then a new method of attack opened. A crate was dragged on either side of Sarah and she was targetted from close range. An egg from each side was deliberately broken into her left and right ear. Then the missiles were thrown into her face from close range. All the time, the crowd continued to pelt her from the front. There was no escape for Sarah from her misery. The close-range attack on her face and head continued unrelentingly, and from that range they could hardly miss. Meanwhile the van returned for its third visit to the town square. This time, its contents were different. As the crowd continued pelting Sarah, in the background, the sound of can-openers could be heard. When the tins were finally opened, their contents were brought over to the waiting crowd. Now the people eagerly grabbed their cans. There were tins of beans, tomatoes, rice pudding and custard. They moved in close and deliberately emptied the contents over the luckless Sarah. Her hair, already a mess from the pelting, was now deluged with the contents of the cans. It became a mess of beans and custard, squashed tomatoes and soggy rice pudding. "Here's a little treat for you, you fucking bitch!" one man called out, as he smashed a chocolate fudge cake into her slime-covered face. "And here's another," said another man, as he emptied a carton of yoghurt over her head. The assault on Sarah's face and head continued in this fashion for around an hour before, once again, the crowd ran out of ammunition. Then the woman whose store Sarah had robbed came up with an idea that had the crowd in fits of laughter."Let's get some jars of honey and treacle!" she called out. "We'll pour them all over the thieving bitch!" The crowd just LOVED her idea. So the van made another journey to get the honey and treacle. When it arrived back, the crowd unscrewed the jars and opened the tins in eager anticipation. They KNEW that this part of Sarah's ordeal would be one of the most unpleasant of all. It was bad enough having the gungy stuff poured all over her face and hair, but the sweet sticky contents of the jars and cans soon attracted the unwelcome attentions of a swarm of flies and other insects. It was not long before they were swarming all over Sarah's naked body as it hung unprotected in the pillory. Sarah screamed at first with the discomfort of it all. Then she screamed as a wasp stung her. For the first time the crowd started to show some concern for her. "Here, we've got to watch out for the wasps," one man said. "It's all right if just one or two sting the bitch but if a swarm lands on her she could die. And then we'd miss out on the chance of more fun with her in the stocks tomorrow. AND the whipping post. AND the year of "community service" too." Reluctantly, the crowd agreed, not out of any pity or sympathy for Sarah, but out of the realisation that they did not want to forgo their coming fun at the young girl's expense! The only dissenting voice came from the woman whose shop Sarah had robbed. "Let the fucking bitch die!" she shouted. But she was outvoted by the others. So they saw to it that the wasps were kept away from Sarah, though not before she had been stung four times by them. They were, of course, happy to leave her with flies and other insects busy crawling all over her. As if what had happened already was not bad enough, Sarah found herself subjected to yet more humiliation. As she hung in agony and despair on her wooden prison, she saw a group of half a dozen people, led by the senior police officer, approaching her, each carrying a bucket in either hand. Sarah groaned inwardly as she guessed that the contents of the pails would be thrown over her, and also guessing that, whatever it was inside them, it was sure to be unpleasant and foul-smelling. "We decided you stink so much already, you might need a little washing down," the officer said, grinning. Buckets of slops from the local pub were then thrown over the helpless girl, at first from a short distance and then from close range, bucket upon bucket being emptied directly over her head and shoulders. Sarah's hair was by now a completely gunged-up mess, and her face, as well as parts of her body, was drenched in a slimy cocktail of filth - rice pudding, honey, treacle, eggs, custard pies, beans,tomatoes and mud, and the "slopwash" had only made things worse for Sarah as it only washed off the looser slimy bits, not the ingrained filth. It also meant, as she discovered when the crowd began pelting her furiously once again, that it allowed more of the newly arrived gunge to stick. The volleys of rotting matter coming her way continued for another few hours. Eventually, the crowd got bored, and only a few hardy souls remained. It was now eight o'clock in the evening, and Sarah had been stuck in the pillory, being pelted with all kinds of filthy mess, since eight o'clock that morning. She had long since retreated into a world of her own, trying to shut out the horror she was undergoing. Come eight p.m., though, the crowd melted away, partly to have their evening meals or go out for other, more normal kinds of entertainment. Largely, though, they had simply run out of ammunition. A few people remained to mock her, spit in her face, and throw whatever ammunition they could find at her. After a while, even they gave up. Sarah hung there in the pillory, but by 9.30 at night she was alone at last. Then, at midnight, she had an unexpected visitor. Though Sarah did not know it, she was about to become the latest victim of the town's serial rapist. He came up behind her, feeling her up. Sarah moaned in her agony but was of course helpless to defend herself. He spanked her arse a few times before getting out his prick and shoving it right up her cunt, brutally. When he'd finished, he simply pissed on her naked body. Sarah could only weep. In the morning, they would come for her at last, and set her free from the infernal device of the pillory. However, Sarah knew that she also faced the stocks, the whipping post, and the prospect of a year's "community service." She knew that today had just been the first day of her descent into a living hell.
Justice under the New Laws:
Part Two: Sarah in the Stocks:
At eight o'clock sharp the following morning, the senior policeman and his team arrived to let Sarah out of the pillory at last. The senior officer was holding the end of a fire hose attached to a water hydrant on the main road. "You can turn the tap on now," he told his colleague.
Once the water was turned on, the senior policeman aimed the hose right at Sarah's face and body. He knew from previous experience that the "clean-up operation," as the men called it among themselves, would be anything but a pleasant experience for Sarah.
The force of the water was so great that the hose was almost torn from his hands. When the first powerful jet of water hit her, Sarah's head snapped back in shock. She gasped as the water almost pushed into her face, twisting her head from side to side in a futile attempt to escape its power. The force of the sudden flow of water began the process of washing away the gunge that was matted in her hair and ears and even her eyes.
Then the officer lowered his aim deliberately, and the whole "cleaning crew" laughed as the jet thudded hard into Sarah's tits.
"Now do the bitch's cunt!" another cop called out, and the senior officer deliberately aimed for the softest and most painful of his targets. Sarah winced in pain as she felt the water hitting right up her cunt with all its force. She squirmed desperately in a vain attempt to dodge its current.
The policeman continued to train his hose all over the helpless girl's naked body until she was completely sodden. The slime that had covered her now lay around her in a giant mud bath around the pillory.
"Wait a minute," said the officer in charge. "Let's see the whore's tits dancing!"
He then trained the powerful hose right in between Sarah's big tits, the powerful stream of water forcing them apart. When he finally lowered the hose, he saw with delight that her tits bounced back into place again. This amused the crew so much that they had a new idea. By training his hose up and down at the right speed he could make Sarah's tits bounce in and out. The trick worked even better from side on. The men rolled around laughing as they watched the show. Sarah, though, found it anything but funny. The pressure of the water made her poor tits feel as if they were being used as punchbags.
Finally they let her out of the pillory, not helping her out in any way. Sarah staggered off the platform, sore, bewildered, and in a state of total shock. She also felt very humiliated by her ordeal. As she tried and failed to stand up straight and walk, Sarah fell helplessly over, landing on her big arse in the mud around the pillory.
"What a stupid bitch," the senior officer laughed. Sarah, broken beyond her worst fears, started crying as she lay there helplessly in the mud. "Come on, get up, you stupid fucking cunt," said his colleague.
They lifted the wailing wench and walked her a few paces through the mud to the stocks. There were four boards on the stocks, the two lower ones holding her legs and the upper ones securing her wrists firmly in place. The upper boards were finally removed and Sarah was made to sit on the bench behind the stocks, her legs forcibly lifted into the frame and the first of the three previously removed parts were replaced. Her shoulders were then pushed down, placing her in the approved position. Her hands were now helpless again as well as her legs and feet. A large iron clasp and strap were fitted in place, another padlock being attached to them.
The senior officer took a final look at his handiwork. Satisfied, he nodded at the helpless girl. "There you go, bitch," he laughed, "I think you'll find this lovely and comfy!"
Sarah was beyond words, not that there would have been any point in making any comments anyway. Probably it would only have encouraged them to even worse excesses. She did however notice that the crowds were beginning to come back. And, what was worse, fresh ammunition had also arrived for their "entertainment."
Then it was time for her ordeal to begin again. This time the young boys began the show, encouraged by loud cries of "go on, pelt the fucking bitch!" They took turns to line up behind her, breaking an egg over her head or throwing eggs and tomatoes from just in front of the stocks. There was no way they could miss from that range, of course.
After the kids came the grown-ups, pouring more beans, custard, and other slimy gunge all over her head and body, paying particular attention to her face, tits, belly and cunt.
After a few hours, the crowd moved in for the "kill." They were completely wild now and Sarah sobbed as she reflected that she had another twenty-four hours of this to go. The pelting got harder and harder. She noted, in spite of her pain and humiliation, that this time, unlike her session in the pillory, it was mainly her body rather than her head which got hit. The crowd also seemed to be more accurate in their throwing, perhaps because of the practice they had had earlier on.
The force of the missiles hurt Sarah badly as they thudded into her body. Even the eggs and tomatoes felt like stones as they hit her already bruised and tender flesh. Even her tears dried up as she tried to steel herself for the ordeal with the only comforting thought she could find, that it would be over eventually.
After around eight hours, Sarah's hair was a sodden mess of gunge, and her whole body was covered from head to foot in a slimy morass of custard, rice pudding, eggs, beans,tomatoes,mud, and shit. The crowd, Sarah became aware, were particularly keen on using her fat tits for target practice. As the rotten food smashed into her tits, they wobbled helplessly. A trail of assorted filth dribbled all down her tits, her belly, into her exposed cunt and finally into a disgusting pile around her arse. Again and again, the missiles rained down upon her body.
Then a new method of attack was tried. As her ankles were spread apart in the stocks, one of the men had tried bowling an egg like a cricket ball, aiming to land it right up her cunt. The crowd loved the idea and soon her cunt was hit by the missiles again and again. If Sarah's gob had not been so thoroughly slimed by now, the excited crowd would have heard a gasp of astonishment when the first one landed right up her cunt. The flow of missiles seemed unending, and poor Sarah could only endure helplessly.
Then her ordeal became even worse as the senior policeman made an announcement, that was greeted with huge cheers.
"OK, folks," he announced, "for the rest of the day the bitch in the pillory is also the public toilet! You know the rules, men first, then boys, then women, then girls. But, as is the custom, the victim of this bitch's crime gets to have first go. Go on, ma'am, piss and shit on the worthless cunt!" "It'll be a pleasure," the lady whose shop Sarah had so futilely tried to rob replied.
She squatted over the girl's helpless body and let fly a huge stream of piss, trying to direct at least the main stream over the girl's face and hair. Sarah gasped, and, to the delight of the crowd, some of the piss went into her mouth, which made her splutter even more. Then the woman farted deliberately in Sarah's face.
After she had finished relieving herself on Sarah's body, she kicked the girl's tits with her booted feet. "I'll be back again when I've got some shit for you!" she shouted.
A steady stream - in both senses - of customers for the new "toilet" made their way over to Sarah. She was pissed on from head to toe, most of the men directing their piss on to her face, tits and cunt. Some even managed to piss directly into her gob, and her gasps and spluttering when they did really amused the crowd.
After a while, customers also began depositing their shit on her helpless naked body. Poor Sarah was degraded utterly as the shit mixed with the slimy stuff already sticking to her face and body.
Then, on a signal from the senior policeman, the crowd turned really nasty. They began by picking up dirt and loose earth, and throwing it at her face and body.
"How do you like that, bitch?" they shouted at her mockingly. "Enjoying yourself, cunt?"
Then the senior policeman bent down towards her, a glass of yellow liquid in his hand. "You must be thirsty by now, Sarah. Do you want a drink?"
Sarah was beyond speech, but she nodded anyway, even though she doubted very much if the officer was offering her refreshment out of kindness. The crowd, who knew very well what was in the glass, just laughed.
"Open up your gob then," said the policeman, and when the helpless girl obeyed he began pouring the liquid down her throat.
It wasn't long before Sarah started spluttering again.
"What's the matter, bitch? Aren't you grateful to me for giving you something to drink?"
Gasping at the foul taste of piss, Sarah could only groan as her ordeal at the hands of the public continued.
Eventually, after who knew how many hours of torment, the crowd began to disperse. The policemen stayed behind a while longer before even they left.
Once poor Sarah was left alone at last, all she could do was lie there uncomfortably and pray for morning to come. Although even that would be anything but a blessing. First, she knew, would come another hosing like the one she had endured already. Then it would be time for her to be locked into the whipping post. Alone in her misery and humiliation, Sarah let the tears flow at last.
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