Page 10 of Thwack!

“This is a very serious business,” Judge Roberts told Mather, peering down at him through his spectacles from the high and lofty bench. “As the duly elected representative of this Commonwealth, I cannot condone such sins against Our Lord.”

“Aw, we was only having a bit of fun, yer honor. The lady what saw us took it the wrong way. Wrestling—that’s all we was doing.”

“I assure you, young man, that the lady in question has no doubts about what she saw. She was raised in farm country and recognizes an act of… bestiality when she witnesses one.”

“Now, now,” Mather protested. “Wasn’t no beasts involved. That fella—”

“Exactly,” Judge Roberts roared. “A fellow. Another man. Against all that is holy. Give me his name and I might be moved to show you some mercy.”

Mather shook his head. He didn’t know the man’s name, not beyond a Christian name. He’d just been some farmhand in for market day and up for a little hanky-panky behind the ale house. But Mather wouldn’t give the man’s name even if he knew it. That busybody of a barmaid had recognized Mather, so he had the misfortune of appearing before the bench today, but men of his sort didn’t rat on each other or there wouldn’t be any fun to be had at all.

“Since you show no repentance—‍”

“I’m a mite repentant.” He was sorry he’d gotten caught anyway.

“If you were repentant, you’d give the other man’s name.”

Mather shook his head again.

“Then you leave me no recourse but to be harsh. Very harsh.” Judge Roberts banged his gavel. “I hereby sentence you to twenty-four hours in the public pillory, said punishment to take place on the next market day.”

Mather nearly shrugged. No one had such a high opinion of him that it would be harmed by seeing him in shackles. A day in the pillory would be boring and uncomfortable, but he would soon be free to resume his activities, including the sort that had landed him in the pillory to begin with.

“And,” Judge Roberts continued, “since you are determined to participate in public lewdness, your punishment will be carried out in the altogether.”

Some of the townsfolk waiting their turn before the court gasped. Others tittered. It was true that women in the pillory occasionally had their skirts turned up, the better to shame them, but men weren’t treated that way.

“You mean I’m not to have any clothes on?”

“Exactly. And furthermore—‍”

“There’s a furthermore?”

“I count myself generous not to lock you up. An offense such as yours is worth a good year in the jailhouse.”

Mather considered whether he’d rather spend a day with his bottom hanging out in the public square or a year in a cell and decided he’d antagonized Judge Roberts enough for the day. He composed his features into something resembling humility.

“Beggin’ your pardon, yer honor. Only my behind is very pale and I fear what a day in the sun will do to it.”

“It won’t be pale for long because I furthermore decree that a paddle be provided and that any who care to administer punishment should dole out however many strokes they feel is just.”

Snickers rolled through the courthouse until Judge Roberts banged his gavel hard enough and long enough to stop them. It wasn’t uncommon for a public paddling to accompany a sentence of pillorying, but said paddling was usually of a known duration and administered by an officer of the court. Mather’s sentence seemed uncommonly harsh. And for a first offense too. Not that the encounter with the unnamed farmhand had been his first outing of that kind, but it was his first time getting caught at it.

“When is the next market day?” Judge Roberts asked the bailiff.

“Why it’s this very Saturday,” the bailiff replied, sounding eager for it. He was a tall, sturdy fellow, rough around the edges but trying not to look it here in court, with a shock of blond hair and a patrician chin. Mather would rather fancy him in a different setting, but he didn’t appreciate the way the man was eying him at the moment, not with arms like those. Imagine them swinging a paddle!

Mather felt an unexpected stirring in his pants and turned away from the bailiff toward the crowd, many of whom were eyeing him with a similar leer. The rotten bastards. Look at Tom over there, cupping his hand over his crotch to hide his excitement. Mather and Tom had once been thick as thieves until they’d had a falling out over a petty bit of business and now Tom saw a chance to take his revenge, the bugger. Mather’s ass hurt just thinking about it, but his cock was twitching like a snake caught on a sharp stick.

“I thank ye for your kind consideration,” Mather told Judge Roberts, in a rush to get out of the room and away from all these men looking at him like he was going to be their Saturday supper. Even Judge Roberts had a bit of a leer to him.

“Go on then. And behave yourself in the future.” Judge Roberts dismissed him with a final bang of the gavel.

The bailiff called the next case as Mather wandered out of the dark courtroom into the sun. There, in the middle of the square, sat the wooden pillory he would be fastened to, large and intimidating. Most of the folks passing through the square avoided it, but a group of young men hardly older than teenagers lounged against it, smoking tobacco and teasing each other.

The boys were handsome, like young’uns often were. Loud and sure of themselves, the way young’uns were too. Every one of them fit and strong. Mather could only hope they would find a different spot to occupy come Saturday.

~~~