Fem/Auth Brochure #3

Who We Are And What We Do

Since the shift earlier in the century to methane induced exponential growth in climate change, the Great American Dollar Collapse of 2037, and the Worldwide Great Northern Climate Diaspora which followed, the Matriarchal Zone was established in Northeastern North America, formerly New England, which was virtually deserted by it’s original population in the Diaspora, and whose survivors reformed as the New England Plantation on the west side of Hudson’s Bay and James Bay in New Canada.

At the Zone boundaries and airports are Customs and Passport Offices, or Cus/Pas, where all non-Matriarchal visitors to the Zone must register and accept temporary GPS chipping of the European Space Agency’s satellites network, They also must undergo retina scanning to go about their business, familial visits, and/or recreation within the Zone, with mandatory passport renewal and re-chipping every three months. Under the terms of the Six Genders Compact this will be extended to six months after 2070.

Non-Matriarchals are not legally obligated to openly display their status, but both Fem/Auth and Cus/Pas strongly encourage it, and offer free badges and badge protocol training for non-Matriarchals planning an extended stay.

The Feminine Authority Office, known as Fem/Auth, is the licensing, training, and development agency for Female managed homes, workplaces, and Female-led relationships. It exists to assist in the stable overall inclusion into world society of Matriarchy, in accordance with the Worldwide Six Genders Compact negotiated in 2045 by the World Negotiations Agency. Included in this compact is the stipulation that Dominant Women be licensed and trained and that Submissive Men be psychologically evaluated for fitness in private Female-led relationships. These are some of the major functions of Fem/Auth.

Fem/Auth works closely with Cus/Pas to see that relations between our Matriarchal citizens and our non-Matriarchal visitors remain smooth and amicable. The Zone itself is always open to applications from both men and women from outside it’s borders for submissive and dominant Zone citizenships, respectively. Ex/Pat, is the clearing house and service office for Citizenship Application and Judicial Arbitration of Submissive Abuse Cases.

In addition to these “front slash” agencies, Civ/Crim are the ordinary Civil and Criminal Courts who deal solely with legal cases involving Dominant Women Citizen Households, including Maleservants, as well as Sec/Spy, the Security and Espionage Identification Office.

Since both the legally Patriarchal dictatorships of Mormonia and Dixieland, and the “Free and Equal” democracies of the Alaskan Republic; New Canada and the New England Plantation; Pacifica; and Great Lakes Consortium have chosen, as permitted by the Compact, to be much more travel restrictive of citizens of our Matriarchy, ALL front slash agencies have summary police powers of arrest and indefinite detention over Submissive Male Citizens, non-Matriarchal visitors, and citizenship applicants.

Such agencies work closely with the Feminine Dominion Police or Fem/Dom, our ordinary national police and prisoner housing agency, with Fem/Dom housing any individuals subject to summary detention.

Submissive Male Citizenship.

The largest, and most important function of Fem/Auth is the voluntary training of male citizenship applicants in submission and subordination, as well as the compulsory re-training of male submissive citizens who are not adapting productively to a Feminine-led life. Fem/Auth also retains summary powers of arrest and detention of any male citizen, or citizen applicant, for re-training purposes.

In accordance with the Compact, male submission training consists ONLY of usual and customary subordination in the home and workplace, and such corporal punishment as is required for this with customary instruments such as hairbrushes, paddles, belts, straps, tawses, crops, light canes, and martinets. No other discipline and corporal punishment instruments are legally permitted in the Zone.

Dominant Woman Training

The Fem/Auth training program for Dominant Women and Women Citizen Applicants is designed to develop student expertise in ordinary Domination both in the home and the workplace. This program also administers Primary and Secondary education within the Zone. Currently, women citizens seeking University education must travel beyond Zone borders.

From the first Establishment of the Matriarchal Zone, men have been permitted to work in subordinate positions only, with Dominant Women in all supervisory and policy making roles.

At the Establishment it was clearly foreseen that both fair promotion and fair monetary compensation would be difficult to achieve with a Dominant/Submissive workplace. While all men must work as a subordinate to a Dominant Woman, the ranks and grades among men must, in practice, correspond to some differences in level among men, based on experience and authority. It is ALWAYS the duty of a working Dominant Woman not only to supervise each male in her workforce, but also to rank organize them and delegate authority for efficient work.

The Matriarchal Zone is like any other political entity. People have ordinary lives, careers, and jobs. In the workplace, what is needed is not only team effort and subordination, but also organization and esprit. Men follow the orders of women, but they also need to feel accepted, valued, and protected.

Twenty years ago, as the Zone coalesced, the Chief Matriarchs of the United Clans (forerunner to our present governmental system of a bicamerally gendered legislature) created The Hierarchy, a workplace template, based on the military system of commissioned and non-commissioned officers of multiple ranks. All men were subordinate to all women, and every in house business entity has a Woman-In-Charge, equivalent to commissioned military rank of lieutenant and higher, as well as a promotional hierarchy of men charged with accomplishing the basic work with status ranks, equivalent to non-commissioned ranks of Sargeant Major down to Private Soldier.

The purpose of these is to establish a system of fair reward and promotion for both genders, as well as the right of reprimand and punishment of men by women. As in the military, Dominant Women status is licensed, demanding discipline limits of the Dominant by the Dominant, and requires careful training in male psychology, as well as the development of a moral compass of both fairness and firmness in supervision of men.

Finally, Fem-Auth exercises legal authority to hear initial complaints by submissive men of Dominant/Submissive Abuse. It will evaluate such complaints and refer the ones with merit to Ex/Pat which will offer temporary housing to alleged victims of such abuse while it’s judicial proceedings are ongoing.

In the Zone, male submission is terminable by the man at any time through his permanent renunciation of Zone citizenship. And, in accordance with the Compact, until 2080 Fem/Auth will provide repatriation and refugee assistance to all citizen renunciates, and will proactively seek placement of them in the other governmental entities of the world.

The Matriarchal Underground.

A major reason why the Matriarchal Zone exists at all is that the Northeast United States and Maritime Canada was home to a large Matriarchal Underground consisting of interbreeding clans from the Highland Scots and Irish diasporas of late 18th and early 19th Centuries. It stretched from Buffalo, N.Y. on the Erie Canal in the West, to Halifax, Nova Scotia in the East, also with pockets in Bluefield, West Virginia and Boone, North Carolina.

These Southern USA pockets were the oldest female-led clans in the New World: MacDonald and MacKinnon in 1732; then came Campbell and Mackenzie after the ill-fated Jacobite Rebellion of 1745; finally MacPherson, MacQuarrie and many others after the Highland Famine of 1836.

The worldwide COVID-19 plague, beginning in 2020 and the abrupt collapse of the American Dollar in 2037 released the pent up economic stresses on humanity leading to the years of civil violence and the dissolution of the United States of America.

As well, exponential acceleration, of man made climate change by the immense and sudden Arctic tundra methane release of 2038 triggered the worldwide Megadiaspora toward the North Pole. A mass panic consuming the totally interconnected 21st Century world to avoid the now inevitable destruction of all land between the Tropics of Capricorn and Cancer, rendering it too hot for any human habitation.

The violent times that ensued are still fresh in the memory of many citizens here as is the contraction of the wide spread USA and Canadian Matriarchals into refuges in the Berkshires centering around the three state Connecticut River boundary of Vermont, Massachusetts and New Hampshire. And the capital of the Zone still retains its former name of Montpelier.

Here we do not need to go into very much detail, but there are still Matriarchal literary artifacts from the time of Emerson and Thoreau all the way up to the Megadiaspora that deserve inclusion in the Female-led story. Most are anonymous, in keeping with the secretive culture that produced them. We print here an example.

A Chat In Matriarch House ca. 2010-2020.

That’s right. This a home, not a dungeon. Here, have a taste of this 1792 Bourbon. Cheers. Isn’t it something? A home. That’s why we call it Matriarch House. It’s feminine led and feminine run, but the men here are not worms or slaves. We get punished only when we truly deserve it, not both whether we’re wrong or right.

Anybody can appeal to the Matriarch. She’s fair but firm, and it isn’t always the man who ends up over someone’s knee or on top of the bed pillows. Calling out a man to be spanked for no good reason usually gets a woman a good butt burning by the Matriarch herself with the House Strap. Happens more often than you might expect, if you listened to the gossip around us. Just like the gossip never mentions this “men’s club” leather chair library and it’s liquor cabinet where the ladies are kind enough to not intrude.

I’m sure you’ve heard exaggerated rumors, but our spanking in the boudoir is play not punishment, play between people of mutual respect who draw the line well before chastity punishment or cages, whatever their gender. A home and not a dungeon. Alice and Corrine just got married, you know. Fine thing having to wait 25 years to openly acknowledge your love! The prudes who’ve been trying to keep that closet locked in this state deserve the paddling of their lives for doing it, and, if any show up here, they just might get it.

A couple of years back I ran my mouth too freely about Corrine (who’s the in-law, Corrine Baker, I’m also not a MacPherson by blood, Kodaly is my last name) and the three of us had a little chat with me getting twice the paddling that my own wife would give me for the same thing, so the girls could both let out their feelings, and the whacks I got “in-law to in-law” had a LOT of feeling behind them, I can tell you. Talk about bulls-eye bruises! I could hardly walk straight for the rest of the day. But I did deserve all I got. Prejudices are a sneaky thing, and could have broken the family bonds between us three for good. A sincere apology and a week of sitting on the effects of a hard, hard hickory paddle were more than worth how we still feel about one another.

How do they work out “female led” between them? Well, apparently it takes more than just a hairbrush, and you can sometimes hear the crack of that thick hickory paddle involved. But their boudoir is their business, everybody here has hairbrushes, and Alice and Corrine do regularly come down to breakfast, or even lunch, rubbing their bottoms with big grins on their faces. Occasionally, at least, we all do.

Do any men spank? Of course not! We wouldn’t love the women we do if we didn’t trust their judgment about us unreservedly. And domestic peace and bliss in a feminine run household, where women fear no man’s physical strength, must be experienced to be understood. Without that fear lurking behind it, for the first time you get REAL respect, if you deserve it. And you have the chance to give back some real respect of your own.

Yes, this is my Annabelle, always more beautiful with steam coming out her ears. A very truthful lady that we all call Belle. Belle MacPherson. The clan sisters have a long tradition of keeping their names. She made good on her prediction there about my not sitting down. If you don’t spank or get spanked a lot you don’t understand how much skill it really takes to leave a man’s fanny in that much discomfort. That time Belle was true to her word, and it left most of the house a little awestruck at how good a job she did on me.

Do we tease each other after a spanking? Of course! But we know that when we do, male or female, we’re on a knife edge–a little too much and a girl, or a man’s wife, just might call you out, leaving YOU ready to be teased after. That’s the best evidence there is about a woman’s better judgment. More often than not, it is we men who cross the line of hurt feelings. And pay for it sorely.

Another bourbon? I always try to stop at two, since Belle takes a dim view of my hanging around here smashed. And she has the most marvelous hangover treatment. Takes your mind right off your headache and puts it on your bottom end. But two is enough, really, and two I will do, without fear or shame.

House rules? They’re really simple. The Matriarch can spank anybody, though she very seldom has to. Her daughters, Annabelle, Alice, Abagail, and Artemis, can spank almost everybody and can call each other out if need be. Mothers can spank daughters and daughters-in-law. Aunts can spank nieces. And any woman over 18 can call out and spank any man. We men don’t spank. With the Matriarch and the House Strap there to deal with any arbitrary and immature spanking whims of the young women, all of us are pretty much content. Rules like these are doing a good job holding 4 generations together so far.

The rest is common sense. We all have chores, men and women, and it’s the Matriarch’s full time job to keep it all straightened out. It’s a big compound, one large house and three guest houses. These are occupied by two couples each, usually Aunt/niece pairings, who work together on our internet mail order businesses. Others of us, like Alice and Corrine and Belle, and a number of the men, have jobs in the City to take the train to. And some, like me, are retired stay-at-homes, keeping the compound clean and in repair. I do some cooking, but my specialty is the garden and grounds. It’s easier to stay out of trouble and keep sitting comfortably out there, so I appreciate my place.

Since you’ve started dating Belle’s grandchild, I hope you can understand “appreciating your place”. Henry tells me (oh, she’s still Henrietta to you, I suppose) that you’ve had your third date and already know what a paddling over the back of the couch for doing something stupid feels like, so nothing of what I’ve told you should take you that much by surprise.

I don’t know how easy she went on you. If you didn’t cry real tears and only had an excellent night in bed, you really don’t know yet what you’re getting into. If Belle gets a hold of you over some conflict with Henry, you’ll experience a whole new dimension of what “a good old-fashioned hiding” is all about, and you probably aren’t ready for that. Don’t say you weren’t warned after a warmed backside from Belle or any other woman here. Since you’re Henry’s guest this time around, you’ll be cut some slack. But don’t push it.

So mind your p’s and q’s while you’re here, particularly with Henry. You can call me either Ed, or Grandad Ed, but for now you’d better stick to “Mrs. MacPherson” or “Mrs. B.” when talking to Belle. Do you go by Peter or Pete? One more thing, Artie’s granddaughter Hebe has a lesbian partner Mary. We don’t at the moment have any more same sex couples here, but we don’t discourage any relationship the young ones want to cultivate, as long as their guests know their place and keep to it.

How did I come to be here? First thing you have to understand is that the MacPherson clan is some of the “old money” in this county–stock trading mostly–and it’s always been matriarchal, all the way back to the Highlands. Because of this, there may have been such a thing as a stingy MacPherson, but there IS no such thing as a lazy MacPherson, and never has been. Time was when the MacPherson girls largely had to seek “women’s occupations” to satisfy the mores of the day, but work they did, nonetheless.

Even then they were unconventional. Were they Abolitionists and Suffragettes? Of course! And “first woman” anything for three counties around, Doctor, Lawyer, you name it, was almost always a woman of the clan. It was Belle’s great, great grandfather Donald that founded the brokerage business in 1885, but it was his daughter that bought the bargain blue chip stocks after the Crash of 1929 that became the real basis of the family fortune.

The Miss MacPhersons work. Always, and no matter how rich the clan is. When I was in high school in the late 1960’s here, the current Matriarch, Elizabeth had just started work as the Vice Principal. I was a high strung, rule breaking young man, and one Friday me and a couple of my “buds” were caught “mooning” the school with our bare asses out the window of a passing car. We also, of course, had cut school and stayed hidden while we smoked a little weed and drank some illicit beer before our theatrical display.

So we ended up in the office of Vice-Principal MacPherson. Since she was new, and a very attractive woman in her twenties, we gave ourselves knowing looks about her being in charge of “school discipline”, much of which, in the late 1960’s, meant swinging the paddle. To our surprise, she gave us a world class dressing down and, at the end of it, stood up, pulled a paddle out of her desk drawer, and said, “Since you gentlemen are so eager to moon people, I’m going to have you moon me. One at a time, step up to the desk, drop your jeans and underwear, bend over, and put your elbows on the desk top!”

You could have heard a pin drop. I could feel the blush rising through my ears as she silently pointed the paddle at me and waved it toward the desk. As I got into position, I remembered the one or two other times I’d got my butt burned like this. It hurt a lot at the time and it stung for the rest of the day, but I didn’t think this slender young woman could do anything near that, even to my now embarrassingly bare bottom.

“Your each getting six. Don’t move out of position or I’ll start over!” There was a long and pregnant pause as I stared at the back of her desk chair….

KA-POWWWW!!!

The first whack left me gasping in the microinterval my butt took to report to my brain, and then I discovered that I had sat on a red hot stove! Tears burst from me spontaneously and by the sixth swinging insult to my glowing bare bottom I was actually sobbing. Nothing I knew had EVER hurt that much!

Miss MacPherson was a good sport after we three completed the round robin of whacking and weeping. She chatted with us and gave us ample time to reassemble our male egos while we cleaned up all traces of our tears. Looking at her, you wouldn’t have believed that she had just whacked three deserving bottoms a total of eighteen times, roughly about the same arm exercise as a full tennis set.

For the rest of the day I did everything I could to use my legs to continuously try to push my blazing rear up from the hard wooden school seats. We had been the first to get Miss MacPherson’s paddle and the rumor mill about it didn’t get started until the following Monday, so I had my throbbing butt cheeks all to myself.

When I got home and told Mother my side of the story (she had already heard the school’s) she dropped the thick leather belt she had been idly twirling and nearly fell off her kitchen step stool laughing.

“So you got to be the first to be paddled by a MacPherson did you! Lucky you! Haven’t you heard the gossip about that whole family up on their rabbit warren of an estate? All the women wear the pants in their marriages and spank their husbands and boyfriends routinely. And YOU got to be the first to experience the one school official with the hardest and most practiced spanking hand in the whole county! On the bare as well!! Woo Hoo Hoo Hoo!!!” she cackled.

“Well, it’s still your lucky day! I was going to beat the behind off you myself, but I can’t bring myself to do it since you told me. But just turn around and take down everything so I can see your poor little heiney. Oh my! Both cheeks are as red as a tomato with a big blue spiral bruise in the center of each!”

My paddling was on a Friday and my bruises got steadily worse over the weekend, to the point where I was sleeping on my stomach. On Sunday I spent much of the day sitting on a bag of ice, which I should have been doing Friday night. Mom called the school attendance office on Monday to tell them that I wouldn’t be in. She may have been pulling my leg (she often did) by telling me that Attendance had the speaker phone on and she heard LOTS of laughter in the background. Otherwise, I guess that word had got around.

Funny thing, that paddling actually turned my school life around. I didn’t do much any more with my buds (we were all too embarrassed with each other anyway). But I started really getting into reading in the school library and my grades shot up like a weed. Miss MacPherson must have heard about this because she started taking a real shine to me and wrote an incredible letter of reference to my eventual small liberal arts college.

She would also tease me, if there was no one else in earshot, telling me with a laugh that if I ever needed to stop by her office, she was always ready to give me a “very warm welcome”. Blushing and staring at my penny loafers usually followed. We were only ten years apart in age and I’d get a little stirred up in my pants thinking about how warm my bottom would be after a MacPherson style of “welcome”. I had had, you might say, personal experience with it, really didn’t want it repeated, but got a little excited over it, nonetheless, which she certainly knew.

After a few more paddlings over the course of a month, her need to give those “very warm welcomes” reduced considerably. And the rep she got for expertise and vigor when burning a student butt (male or female) was positively hair raising. One day after school, my then “steady” girlfriend, who wore my class ring with a tight rubber band around it to make it smaller, ended up with a pressing need to visit the Vice Principal in her office.

When I took her home in my car, she was still absolutely bawling and stayed so all the way until she went to bed that evening. Three days later, she showed back up at school, tender, but able to sit without squirming. With her red hair and pale translucent skin, her backside must have looked like a Tijuana sunset, but I didn’t get a chance to appreciate it. We hadn’t quite yet taken our first tumble under an old apple tree in a secluded dell in the Park of Roses. She had always laughed at me and my story of my first meeting with Miss MacPherson, but after her own warm welcome she didn’t mention it much and certainly wasn’t laughing when she did.

These days, since Elizabeth is only ten years older than me and her husband died 5 years ago, we both like socializing with each other as the two oldest at Matriarch House. Work keeps us from doing it much, but it’s always enjoyable when we do. And, of course, I’ve had regular warm welcomes over the years from her 15 years younger daughter, my beautiful wife Belle.

How did that happen? My college had a wonderful program of foreign study in Europe. I grew up talking to my Grandmother in Magyar (Hungarian) as well as English, so I picked up languages quickly, and after two years study at the University of Denmark and a couple of affairs with blonde and willowy Danish ladies, I had all Europe at my feet.

I had lucked into a job as a fashion photographer on a new, trendy, and young staffed magazine in Dresden, Germany and, after five years of that, I had made enough money to have a well equipped personal photography studio, so I left Dresden for Paris and went freelance. I was quite successful, frugal with my money, and had a good eye for European stocks, so my net worth rose high enough to be a serious contender as a potential husband in the American upper classes, “old money” or not.

And then I met Belle and fell head over heels in love with her, in Paris, in the Spring, just like one of those 1960’s romantic comedy movies starring Shirley McLaine or Audrey Hepburn. Things like that really do happen. She did the same with me….

Dinner might be just about to start. It’s a workday, so it will just be the residents of the Main House. Belle and the Matriarch (everybody addresses her as Momma or Momma Mac) are chief cooks tonight, so you’re in for an old fashioned comfort food treat.

Oh, hi, Henry! What’s that? You and Belle want a word with Peter in private? Your looking rather glum Henry, you should cheer up. It’s been nice meeting you, Peter. I guess I’ll see you at dinner, which I’m certainly looking forward to. One thing you can say about Matriarch House, living or visiting you get exactly what you deserve. Drink the last of your bourbon. Cheers.

The Matriarchal State

To turn a matriarchal underground into a matriarchal state has been the constant tribulation of us all. For 400 years, the USA had been perfect for us and many besides us: the Irish Travelers, the Romany, and so on. So we didn’t have worry about the Scotland of strife and land evictions and could settle down to farm, keeping ourselves to ourselves and ordering our clans as we would.

All clans fled after 2037 to the hospitality of the broadly extended and prosperous MacQuarries and were given refuge in the outlying clan farms of Northfield, Mass. There was formed the United Clans that negotiated in the Six Genders Compact Conference, creating the Matriarchal Zone, the land from the Hudson and Lake Champlain to the Maine coast and Nova Scotia having been deserted by non-Matriarchals. Hearing the news of the formation of the Zone, thousands of Female led families flocked to it from all over the old United States and New Canada.

Matriarchy, however, is a living, growing thing, best grown in the clan environment and the stresses of the large number of nuclear family households, particularly from Pacifica and Great Lakes Consortium, have led to the formation of a semi-authoritarian social order of the Chief Executive Matriarch (an until retirement position held by the Chief Clanness of the former United Clans), the Matriarchal Cabinet of Clan Chiefs (also until retirement); and the two elected legislatures, the lawmaking House of Matriarchs and the advisory House of Men. They meet for three months of each year to examine the executive decisions, determine which will be abandoned and which will be given permanent force of law. They have a regular election every seven years.

The fact that the Zone is officially self designated as a semi-authoritarian Matriarchal Hierarchy means that all citizens are NOT equal under law and that, even if there is not gender segregation, there are still Female social and political prerogatives that men do not have. The motto of the Zone is quite explicitly not, “Liberty and Justice for All” but “Everyone Knows Their Place and Takes It.” This is the price of building a society where Women no longer need fear men, and Men get respect for how they act, not who they are or what they look like.

The basic activity which stratifies all into their place is Corporal Punishment both in the home and out of it. This is not just a matter of an ordinary spanking for occasional readjustments in the home or the workplace. It is a matter of holding everyone, Woman or Man, responsible for maintaining the place of subordinates, and also responsible, with consequences for failure, for taking their own proper place.

Thus in the Zone, while Women spank Men, Women also get spanked, if need be, by higher ranking Women, or, failing that, by professional members of the “front slash” police agencies. In a female-led society, the need for this is rare for women above the age of 25, but often occurs through the teen years and early 20’s as fast physiological growth leads to much psychological “acting out”. The bottom tanning of an inexperienced and antisocial young woman is not just the responsibility of her mother, grandmother, and aunts, but also that of any adult woman with an established place in the hierarchy.

To sustain all this, there are several different “front slash agencies” all of whom have cooperative police powers: Cus/Pas, Fem/Auth, Fem/Dom, Civ/Crim (citizen courts), and Sec/Spy (security and counterintelligence) This is for the reason that if anyone, female or male, citizen or non-citizen, refuses to “take their place” they must swiftly be removed from circulation and either deported or retrained. Without this the social glue of fearless women and subordinate men will not hold.

However, with the great growth of single woman or mother/daughter households, with the responsibility for one or more Men, sustaining this sort of social adjustment is often problematic. The combination of adapting to a semi-authoritarian social structure and the strains of being a one-woman disciplinarian can give them a very rough time.

As with the members of the Matriarchal Underground in the United States the Zone is relatively crime free. When males are well supervised and their impulses kept in line, most violent crime simply vanishes. Particularly noteworthy is the total ban on private firearms and carrying any other concealed weapon within the Zone.

In our past diaspora to the Berkshires we lost much; many of us still can remember having much more wealth. But with the male energy supervised and harnessed to female diligence and industry, we have made a community that is prosperous in moderation and relatively equal in income and wealth distribution. In the terms of another day, we call this “job jar economics.” Under these circumstances, property crime is rare.

The Matriarchal Police or Fem/Dom are the national police, customary keepers of the peace on the streets, in the neighborhoods, and investigators of both personal and property crime throughout the Zone. 

Ordinary policing in the Zone is household to household as it was in Japan before it’s total nuclear contamination. All police are women. And Fem/Dom neighborhood foot patrols have a standing order to regularly knock on doors in their district and become well acquainted with the citizens they protect. In addition, they are trained to be as tough as they need to be to proactively prevent crime.

Their firearms are concealed, but tazer, collapsing nightstick, and handcuffs openly decorate the duty belt of a neighborhood patrol. They also are issued a three-tailed Glasgow tawse and it is used legally and firmly (though relatively infrequently) to deal with public misdemeanors in their district.

A few tawsed hands and good public bare bottom whackings over the hood of a parked electrocar, with the neighborhood looking on, discourages most petty crime and, particularly, any male juvenile crime. The miscreant is usually escorted to his own home, the household is informed, and he is left to the private hiding certain to be applied over his public tawsing.

There are courts to handle major citizen crimes, but Fem/Dom, Cus/Pas, Fem/Auth, and Ex/Pat together hold broad powers of indefinite detention of male citizens, citizen applicants, and non-citizens in Vauxhall Prison, in Peterborough. Almost all indefinite detentions of non-citizens eventually result in expulsion from the Zone, but with standard terms of time (measured in weeks) in Vauxhall, where non-citizens are placed on genuine matriarchal discipline at the hands of our tough, but professional, Fem/Dom cops. However, any non-citizen may waive his or her rights and take the same strapping a citizen would be given for a similar offense. 

2061 Edition, All Rights Reserved

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