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Carly approached the raised reception counter at police headquarters downtown. The modern office building was all business from the outside, but the raised wooden counter, uniformed officers and functional carpet in reception proved its true purpose. She requested to see Melody. While waiting, she rested against the wall. Her paddled butt was so painful, she couldn't even glance at the plastic molded seats.

When her phone had informed her Melody was an Angel, she'd expected no favors from the police officer. Blasting through the stop sign without checking was a serious offense. She'd accepted her alternative punishment with immense gratitude, but the older girl had still given her a stern telling off. Escaping the fine and ticket was a welcome relief, the price a tough encounter with Miss Robert's heavy paddle.

Looking around the police reception, she doubted anybody was here to show their paddled butt to a law enforcement officer, except her.

In uniform with long, dark hair, she recognized Melody.

"In here, Carly."

Off the side of reception, Melody led her into a stark interview room with institutional gray walls.

"Lower your jeans and panties."

Carly faced away from Melody and complied. Being commanded by a police officer in uniform sent a vigorous pulse of pleasure through her sex. She undid her black jeans, slid them down, and lowered her white cotton panties.

"How many did you get?"

"Eight swats."

Peering, Melody noticed some feint marks, not made by any paddle. "Someone has also whipped you."

"Switched. I have a new boyfriend."

The pride in the younger girl's voice was unmistakable. Melody smiled. "You're well punished. Pull them up."

Carly obeyed. The deep humility of baring her bottom for official inspection heated her active sex and delivered soothing comfort to her aching pain.

"You'll drive with more care now, won't you?"

"Yes, Officer."

The crisp and respectful response pleased Melody. "Okay. You can go."

As they left the interview room, a sergeant entered through the front doors. He glanced at Melody, and then at her as he went by.

Melody stood before her sergeant's desk, her navy uniform pants crease free, her tight matching blouse flawless and her long black hair in a sleek ponytail. She'd waited all shift for this meeting. Hanging around the precinct had made her nervous. Only at 3pm had the call come.

"I've finished your annual assessment."

It had been a grueling experience. Having him beside her in the car for two days and her paperwork under extra scrutiny, she'd felt the pressure.

"Yesterday, you didn't write that girl a ticket after she blew through a stop sign. I advised you at the time I thought you'd made a misguided decision. As it was me who ran her license plate, I remembered it. Returning from patrol this morning, I noticed the black VW Golf parked on the street outside and you were with a young girl in reception. Do you know her?"

Melody sweated. She'd done Carly a favor. Eight swats with the heavy paddle on your thin cotton panties wasn't what she'd call being let off with a warning.

"Yes, sir."

She didn't know Carly. She'd never met her before the stop sign incident, but she couldn't explain their connection to a man, or anyone.

"That's not honest policing."

"I judged her to be sorry," she said, desperate to come up with a reasonable defense.

"But you knew her," he yelled.

It was no use. He'd decided. "Yes, sir," she said, adopting a meek tone.

"I don't want to fail you, Melody. The rest of your performance was good. But this incident calls your judgement into question. As a police officer your judgement is everything. I'm not satisfied by what I've seen."

Fear coursed through her body. She was a police officer. She couldn't be anything else. He was right, judgement mattered. She'd exercised hers well, but she couldn't tell him. Any explanation would bring to light the nature of their club. Even to save her job, it was against the Virtue rules and she couldn't live with him knowing about her private business.

"I'm sorry, sarge," she said. "Please don't fail me. Some strict duties, a serious lesson, but please don't fail me."

He stared up at her. "What kind of lesson would teach you not to do favors for your friends?"

"I don't know," she said.

"Well, go away and think about it. Return in an hour and I want a proper answer."

She'd escaped his office and bought time, but she already knew the answer. Miss Roberts chastised her, and now her husband, too. Angst free, her pleasant life had flared up in her face. Crap canteen coffee in her hands, she considered her sergeant's demand. Every permutation produced the same conclusion. Horrible duty shifts were a poor solution. She must win back his admiration.

She knocked on her sergeant's door, entered, and stood before his desk.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry, sir. I deserve to be taught a serious lesson, one which will hurt and be unpleasant."

He nodded.

She steeled herself. He didn't know the severe punishment she'd imposed on Carly, and seeing it from his viewpoint, her conduct appeared alarming.

"Sir, I'd urge you to paddle me. Six hard swats. I'm sorry and I want you to know it."  

Admiration crossed his face before he masked it. Her hopes rose. It had been a courageous move.

"Eight," he said.

"Yes, sir." She straightened her back under his stiff sentence.

He had an oak paddle at home. It hadn't occurred to him to apply it at work, but the pretty officer presented a compelling case. "Okay. I applaud your guts and pride. Tomorrow morning 7am at the shooting range."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me yet. You must turn up with your friend. If she's worth what you did for her, she'll stand beside you and take her swats. She didn't deserve to get away with her offense."

Melody's mind spun through the web of lies which had brought her here.

"I'll do my best," she said.

"Make certain you do. Being a police officer also requires tact, wisdom and diplomacy."

Outside the basement shooting range, Melody waited alongside Carly. Officers used it to maintain their skills, but this early in the morning, it was empty and soundproofed, a quality she'd never contemplated until now.

In silence, their hands behind their backs, they stood against the wall. Melody felt tremendous guilt. Carly had understood her plight as soon as she'd called. Sending an urgent message on Virtue, she'd wondered if the younger girl would even call her back, but she had. She'd been gracious and generous. Asking her to take another paddling two days after Miss Roberts had thrashed her, had stuck in her throat.

Melody's heart went out to Carly. The young woman in black jeans and crisp white blouse beside her was a credit to girls everywhere. Her sergeant wasn't likely to go easy. However much it stung, she'd take her swats in solemn silence, even if she had to summon all her strength to accomplish it. Carly had the raw deal.

"Impressive," her sergeant said. "I expected excuses. You deserve this, young lady," he said, staring hard at Carly.

"Yes, sir. I do. Sorry," Carly said.

Melody wanted to wrap the girl in a tight hug. Her attitude was admirable.

"In you go," he said, opening the door to the shooting range.

The range itself occupied most of the area, leaving a small space for shooters. Covered in gray carpet, it extended up the walls. A line of thick glass panels separated the eight shooting stations.

Dumping his sports bag on the floor, he pulled out a massive oak paddle, polished to perfection, and switched on the electric door lock, which lit up a red sign outside announcing the range was in use.

"This is Carly, sir," Melody said.

"You recognize you didn't deserve to dodge a ticket the other night, Carly?"

"Yes, sir. I mean no, sir. I deserve my paddling." She shut up.

"Good. Melody will go first."

Unclipping her holster and handcuffs from her belt, Melody laid them on the table at the back of the range and walked to the middle of the space.

"Bend over and grab your ankles," he commanded.

She obeyed, the position humiliating in front of the younger girl. Her tight navy pants stretched, outlining her bikini panties beneath.

"Melody. I'm pleased you've admitted you were wrong. Eight hard swats as agreed."

She breathed in and let it seep out as the paddle massaged her uniform. The extra protection was unusual. Miss Roberts would have stripped her to her panties. But Carly's jeans would bury the evidence of her previous paddling and keep their shared secret.

Intense string spread across her butt cheeks as the carpeted walls deadened the thud. She clutched her ankles as the pain passed through her pants and panties. Not expecting to undress, she'd worn crisp white cotton bikini panties in case. For a formal punishment, it felt fitting, their innocent honesty appropriate.

The paddle slammed into her bent backside, pounding pain deep into her disobedient bottom. She put herself in his shoes. Letting off a friend was a significant transgression. She hadn't committed it, but she'd caused Carly two terrible paddlings in two days. She deserved to hurt.

The oak roasted her thin pants and sting spread low as he hurt her where she'd sit. The pain blended into her shame. She'd let Carly down when she'd meant to help and risked her sacred job. She'd trained hard to wear her uniform. It was fitting she was bent over in it now.

Ferocious swats slammed into her still bottom as she visualized how red and marked she'd be. She'd told Martin what had transpired. He'd commiserated with her and warned her to expect the cane after she'd recovered. The further sanction from her husband had been everything he should do. She'd failed as a police officer and as a dutiful wife.

The last swat crashed into her underside, and she took it with pride. She was a paddled police officer, receiving fair punishment.

"Stand up," he commanded.

Melody released her ankles and rose. Facing him, her buttocks in flaming pain, she said, "Thank you, sir. I'm sorry I let myself, and you, down."

"You took the paddle well. Stand over there." He pointed to the rear wall. "Hands by your sides."

"Carly. You've seen what I expect of you. Will you bend over or must I mark down your friend's assessment?"

"I'll take my paddling, sir," Carly said.

He pointed with the paddle to the spot vacated by Melody.

Carly stepped forward, bent over, and grasped her black skinny jeans. It was strange to have their protection. Even at law school, Curtis had made them strip. If he could see her now, he'd be proud of her, but she'd never told him about Miss Roberts, or that Anya caned her. They'd only spoken on the phone since getting home. She was itching to see him again. But if he came over too soon and touched her bum, a distinct possibility, she'd flinch for sure.

The large oak slab tapped her behind, and she took a deep breath. This was going to be awful. Miss Robert's paddling had penetrated deep and hurt more today than it had yesterday. She thought of the ticket she'd escaped. It deserved more swats. She owed Melody for her kindness. This second paddling was a tough price, but one she was proud the police girl had asked her to pay. Virtue was a lovely club. She'd only browsed, not contacted anyone. But knowing all these smart girls, many older than her, held themself to account filled her with pride and a powerful sense of belonging.

Sting burst across her backside as the muted crash disappeared into the walls. Heat developed in her tight jeans. She'd thought they'd help, but god, it hurt. In agreement, the huge paddle slammed into her jeans, pounding her bottom with pain. She clenched her teeth, trying to stay silent.

"I bet this is teaching you a better lesson than a ticket," he said.

"Yes, sir," she replied. "It is." She hoped her humble admission might lessen the pain, but he slammed the oak into her denim without mercy. She cried out.

Melody's heart surged with respect and love for the generous girl. She was taking her painful paddling with such honor and integrity. She willed her to bear it.

Carly allowed herself to feel sorry. This hurt like hell, but her dangerous driving deserved punishment. Her humble submission was fair penance. The paddle blasted into her denim, ramming fierce heat into her butt. The fire in her jeans poured heat into her sex. She pictured herself bent here before two uniformed police officers. It was an official paddling. In her uniform, Melody looked incredible. The older girl's inner strength and commitment only impressed her more. It had required guts to call and ask her to take this harsh paddling. Her admiration heated her sex as the paddle burned her butt. She imagined Melody was beating her, eliciting a proper penance for her driving offense.

Tears inched towards her eyes as heat and pain engulfed her behind. She gripped her ankles, determined to live up to her promise. The intense desire in her sex minimized the pain and magnified her pride as she held her beaten bottom dead still.

The last swat was the worst, bursting sting across her agonized cheeks right where she must sit to drive.

"Your paddling is over," he said.

As she rose, her bottom muscles decried every motion. Fired up on pride, her tortured backside in agony, she said, "Thank you, sir."

"You took your punishment with grace. Well done, young lady."

Turning to Melody, he said, "You've passed your assessment. I'll see you upstairs on parade in thirty minutes. You may both go."

Showing her out, Melody whispered, "I owe you, big time."

Carly leaned into the beautiful older girl, gave her a kiss on the cheek, "No, you don't. It was my duty."

Stunned, Melody watched as Carly walked from the police station, her gait giving no hint of the devastating pain in her paddled bottom. If girls like that owned the future, it was in safe hands.

Carly let herself into Anya's apartment. Every minute spent on her feet around the office had been a blessed relief as the ache in her bottom had deepened and escalated. Proud of the guts she'd displayed, she'd endured her continued suffering with the grace she expected of herself.

Home early to study a complex point of case law, Anya looked up from the couch with a frown. "I cleaned up the honey you spilled on the floor this morning."

"Oh, sorry," Carly said. Her police paddling consuming her, she hadn't noticed.

"I also washed up your snack plate last night," Anya added, her tone stern. "Your standards are sliding, Carly. Six strokes of the cane before bed."

"No!" she cried.

Anya stared, aghast. It was not the response she'd expected or ever received from Carly. The younger girl was fair-minded and good at accepting her discipline.

Carly burst into tears. Anya rose from the couch, came over and put her arms around the younger girl. Through huge sobs, Carly explained her driving offense, her paddling from Miss Roberts, the trouble she'd caused Melody and her police paddling this morning.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I was so worried last night and this morning about how much it would hurt."

"Of course you were. We'll let it go."

"No," Carly murmured into Anya's shoulder. "I'll let you know when I've recovered. It won't be this week. Then you'll cane me, as you should, and I'll thank you as I must with the respect you deserve. Thank you for your kindness tonight. But when the time comes, show me no mercy."