by Nicola Diaz
Once inside, I realized that the lighting was too bright, that the shelves too cramped, and the dogs too noisy. I was very particular about where I would accept employment, and I didn’t want to go through the drawn out process of job training, only to find out that the atmosphere hampered my creativity and dulled my senses. I decided, instead, to focus more intently on my burglaries. In the past, they were conducted, as I mentioned, more so out of pleasure than out of necessity. Yet now, I decided that it would be essential for me to steal them so that I could sell the various coins to the poor village on the outskirts of town. I knew that there were members of the Unix Society that would take them off my hands, and for a good price.
I tossed the newspaper in a wire waste-bin and then proceeded to walk to my flat which was in the neighborhood affectionately referred to as Fascista. I unlocked the door to my metal framed saucer-like contraption, and then walked quietly inside. All of the Fascista residents lived in what looked like flying saucers. They were oblong in shape, and large in diameter. They held a copious amount of furniture, but out of preference, I opted to move in with only a bed, a bookshelf, and a thought-crimes device. Simplicity seemed to be working out quite well for me at this time in my life.
After I had taken a quick shower, I changed into my favorite tight black dress and then strapped my silver backpack on my back. I pulled on my black bandana and then stepped into the night. I knew where I could find a few coins, as this family was known for being a collector. I wanted to get them inside my pack before it got too late.
If I could steal them and get them to the Unix Society before midnight, then I would probably still able to get home in time to watch Psychic Files X, my favorite real-time show about telepathic communication and unidentified flying objects.
“Giselle!” I looked over my shoulder when I locked the door and saw that one of my neighbors was waving me down. I ambled to her porch and saw that she was upset. “Have you heard about the latest move on behalf of the Task Force? They are enforcing laws much harder now, and they are getting more intense with their forms of punishment.” Annabelle looked at me with a concerned expression. She knew that I had a habit of stealing coins, although she was not privy to all of the details.
“Yes, Annabelle. I read the paper a few hours ago. Don’t worry about me.” I smiled and pulled my thick, red hair into a pony tail, then adjusted the straps on my pack. I wanted to tell her that I actually hoped to be caught, that I desired the cruel and unusual punishment that the Task Force promised to deliver when its criminals were snagged. Annabelle wouldn’t understand, so I simply smiled and then continued on my way.
For years, I had been attracted to BDSM and torture as forms of sexual expression. I felt that the lifestyle opened me up to a word that I never knew existed, and inspired in me a sense of excitement that I had never before experienced. The thought of being chained up, tied, bound, and tortured made me sexually excited, and it was only among a small circle of friends that I could ever explain these intense emotional and physical sensations.
I walked along, consumed with my thoughts, until I reached one of my first homes. It was a small, oblong saucer, but it was different in that it had long, red stripes on the side. It also had several levels, and I would need to climb to the top story. I knew that an elderly person lived inside, and it was the perfect condition for breaking in and stealing away their coins, if they had them. I carefully opened the back door, and could immediately hear someone snoring in one of the back rooms. I crept around the corner, and then stopped when I reached the doorway.
My heart lept when I saw a black cat curled up on the couch. I pet him once on the head, and then gingerly scanned the room for a coin box. Once I saw it, I opened it and dumped the contents inside my pack, and then tiptoed back toward the door. On my way out, I noticed one more coin box, and when I opened it saw that it was filled with various coins from all over the world. Surely, they would be worth a lot of money in the right hands. I looked over my shoulder, and then stepped out into the night. I had no idea that I was being watched.
I walked purposefully until I reached the large, barbed wire fence that separated the citizens of Utopios from the citizens of the Unix Society. I remembered when all of the houses were part of the same community, when we shared food and farms among one another. But all of that changed when the Task Force rose to power. Now, we were reverted back to segregation, to excluding each other from daily activities and from any sort of co-mingling. It was a daring move on my part to even approach their secluded fence, but I had a strong enough desire to be caught, so it made the task exciting.
I could hear voices inside one of the homes, and I chucked a rock up to see if I could gain someone’s attention. As soon as it plucked the window, a boy poked his head out and then smiled when he saw my face. We had done business once before, and he had been more than happy to send me on my way with a wad of cash in exchange for the rare coins. I knew that he would help me achieve my goal, and I returned the smile as soon as we locked eyes. “Coming down!” He motioned for me to wait, and then his face disappeared from the window.
As soon as he got to the fence, he smiled and then lifted up the passage way that was concealed by a boulder underneath. It was a secret tunnel that nobody else knew of, and it kept me safe when I needed to cross into the other zone. I took off the pack, and then handed the pack over to the boy. I was excited. The robbery had been a success, and it had satisfied my unfettered desire for deviance. Now, I’d get paid as a bonus. Just as I handed the pack over to the boy, I heard someone yell. “Stop in your tracks!” A large man wearing a striped navy uniform came barreling down the hill and toward the fence.
I froze in my tracks and was then handcuffed and dragged over the concrete ground, beyond the ridge that separated Utopios from the Unix Society, and then into a large, white Task Force Vehicle. Three men, also in navy blue uniforms, stood with their hands on their hips, waiting for my arrival. The man who dragged me into the vehicle then blindfolded me and slapped handcuffs around my wrists.
My cuffed hands were yanked over my head and clipped to a hook. My arms felt like they were being stretched to capacity, and my eyes welled with tears in pain as I realized that I was now being punished.
“You thought you could get away with it, didn’t you?”
One of the men laughed as he questioned me, and I could feel their stares, even under my blindfold. I heard the engine start, and I lowered my head, wondering where they were taking me.
“I was only doing what makes me most happy.” I tried to be strong, so that they would understand that I had no fear, that I desired torture, and that I would be willing to submit to whatever devious sort of punishment they unfurled.
“I’ve been a thief for most of my life.” I shrugged and then one of the Task Force officers yanked the clip tighter above my head.
I could feel the skin around my armpits stretch, and I winced. He laughed and then someone in the vehicle lit a cigarette.
“You must not read the newspapers. We made it very clear in the latest edition that crime, especially crimes of robbery or of arson, would be handled with the highest level of deterring consequences.” One of the officers spoke as the vehicle bounced along the rocky roads that led out of the Unix Society border. I guessed that they were hauling me into the station in Utopios, but so far no one had alluded to our destination.
“You don’t know what I read, officer.” I gave him my smug response with dignity.
“I happen to read the Utopios Times every day.” I couldn’t see a thing from under the blindfold.
The pressure around my wrists was intensifying, and I wondered how much longer they would keep me bound in such a way. Before I could think further, one of the officers stuck a rubber electrode to my bare arm. I heard a grating sound from the front of the vehicle, and then a pulsing shock ripped through my body. I jumped up, but my wrists were confined to the hook, so I could barely move when I stood up.
“It would be
in your best interest to just sit still and accept your punishment.” One of the officers whose voice I didn’t recognize blurted out his command and then laughed when the others saw how much the shock had jolted me.
I felt a moment of panic, and I wondered if anyone in the community knew that they had captured me. What if they took me to an abandoned warehouse and then locked me up where nobody could find me? In the midst of all of my excitement over the potential for BDSM and torture, I had failed to consider the potential harm that could be inflicted on me, and I shuddered to think of what might happen next.
“Take her shirt off, Joe.” One of the men laughed and then I felt someone take a knife and slice my shirt right down the front.
My breasts were exposed since I never wore a bra, and I could feel their eyes staring at my nipples. One of the men sat beside me- I could smell his cigarette as he got close, and pinched my right nipple with his fingers. I cried out, even though it felt stimulating. I loved to have my breasts fondled, and the way that he touched me set a fire between my legs.
“You know, I enjoy being tortured.” I couldn’t help but say something.
It was difficult enough sitting there, tied up, being electro-shocked and fondled in silence. I felt like I had to speak up to declare that I still existed.
“I used to steal more coins years ago, but as soon as Utopios cracked down on our relations with the Unix Society, I scaled back.” I though that maybe they were interested in my history, that they would be interested in knowing a little more about me.
After all, I was chained to their vehicle and half-naked.
“Shut your trap, Giselle.” One of the Task Force officers spoke up and I was startled.
How did he know my name?
“You knew that you would be captured and tortured before we even thought about coming for you. It’s common knowledge in Utopios that criminals know their punishment before they commit their crimes. We all know that you climbed the fence to the Unix Society so that we would come trailing after you.” I could feel his stare, and the blindfold was beginning to hurt my eyes.
“Well, then at least we’re on the same page in that respect.” I writhed on the cold, metal bench, and felt the pull of my wrists grow stronger.
A chill ran down my spine, and I could sense that my nipples were now hard as rocks. I wanted to scream, but I knew that my punishment might be even harsher if I got loud. Before I could say anything else, I felt another electrode being placed on my skin. This one was stuck on my stomach, and as soon as it was secured, the hair-raising, grating sound from the front of the vehicle sounded once again, and a shock jolted through my body.
“That one got her good.” I heard one of the Task Force officers smirk.
I then felt the vibration of the shock sidle up through my torso, into my arm and through my neck. It was an intensifying sensation and I got both woozy and disoriented.
“Let her out of the cuffs for a minute.” The same voice piped up and I felt a twinge of hope.
Maybe he’d finally let me stretch out for a minute, re-group, and rub my raw, chafed wrists. I felt a tug on my hands, and then a feeling of relief as the cuffs were unlocked, and my hands were set free.
I gently rubbed my wrists, and although I couldn’t see anything through the blindfold, I could tell that they were raw and blistered from being bound up on the hook. I touched my breasts, and I wondered if anyone thought I looked sexy. As if reading my mind, one of the Task Force officers spoke.
“Take off your jeans. Then get back on the bench. You’re in for a treat with this next one.” He laughed and I felt both excited and humiliated.
For as much as I wanted him to let me free, I also wanted him to torture me further, to play with my breasts and make me feel that my burglaries had all been worth it.
I slowly unbuttoned my jeans and wriggled my way out of them. I held them in my hand for a second, and in an attempt to bring some levity to the situation, twirled them on my finger. The officers didn’t find any humor in my behavior, because the vehicle was filled with silence, and I heard no applause of approval. I sighed and then hung my head, feeling ashamed and lonely.
“Hey, Jeb. Put the cuffs around her ankles this time.” One of the officers gave orders and apparently the other followed them, because within minutes, I felt the cold circumference of metal bind my ankles, and I was literally forced to sit back on that cold bench.
Without the protection of my jeans, the bench was disturbingly uncomfortable. Little metal ridges from the seat’s construction dug into my thighs, and I squirmed around, diligently trying to find a more comfortable position.
My feet, shackled and twisted, were of no use now. I could swing my legs back and forth, but I couldn’t get up if I needed to, and it made me feel even more powerless than having my hands bound. One of the officers lit another cigarette, and I coughed.
“Keep quiet over there or we’ll have to give you more shocks.” Another officer spoke, and I winced from the pain that the metal seat inflicted.
“Well, you ought to give her another shock, regardless.” I heard a voice from the front of the vehicle speak out, and I figured that one of the Task Force officers must have been in the driver’s seat, controlling the electro-shock mechanism, while the other three remained in the back, handling the blindfold and the handcuffs.
I braced myself for what I knew was coming next. One of the officers slapped an electrode directly under my left breast. He fondled my nipple after he stuck it on my skin, and then I heard the grinding sound.
I lurched forward after the shock. It sent a tingle throughout my entire body this time, and I figured he must have increased the voltage. I wanted to kick and scream, but my feet were bound, and my mind was beginning to grow weary. I could only imagine what they had in store for me next. I was hungry, thirsty, and needed to use the bathroom. One of the officers must have decided to have some mercy on me, because he whispered to one of his comrades that they ought to let me out for a little break. I hoped that they would at least have enough decency to let me pee.
“Unhook her feet and take off the blindfold. We’ll give her a break before we take her to the center of the square.” One of the Task Force officers spoke up, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
The Square? I didn’t know why they would be taking me to the center of Utopios. Did they plan on performing a public humiliation? I tried to remember all that was written in the paper, and recalled a brief blurb about some of the more serious crimes being punishable with routine, enclosed torture as well as public humiliation and torture. I became filled with anxiety.
“Sit still.” One of the Task Force officers came to my side and started to un-lock the cuffs from my feet.
I sighed with relief when they were removed, and wiggled my toes around, hopeful that he’d take off the blindfold next.
“You get fifteen minutes to use the bathroom and get some water.”
He untied the blindfold and I shielded my eyes from the blinding light that emanated. I looked out and saw the three Task Force officers, standing at the bottom of the vehicle ramp, with hand on their hips, and smirks on their faces.
I tried to steady myself because I was feeling a bit wobbly on my feet. One of them laughed and lit a cigarette.
“How are you feeling now, Giselle?” He laughed after he asked me the question, and then the other three laughed as well.
“Was this a shocking experience for you?” He slapped his hand on his knee, apparently amused at his pun.
I stood silently, trying to make out the names on their badges. I turned around and realized that we were parked about a block from the square. I wondered what they had up their sleeve.
The officer named Jeb took me by the arm and led me to a portable toilet. He motioned for me to sit, and I did with relief. It felt so good to let myself relax for a moment, even if it was only to go to the bathroom. I had no problem urinating in front of him. In fact, it felt kind of exciting, and I remembered that part of
my intentions with stealing the cats in the first place was to experience the tortuous sensations. I believed in living an experiential life, and this was all part and parcel.
“Get ready for the square.” Jeb cocked his head to the side and grimaced.
I craned my neck and tried to see where they would station me, what they would do for my punishment. I could see a large, wooden platform standing in the center of the square, and my heart raced with anticipation. There was what looked to be a long, metal crane hanging from one of the walls that held up the platform, and it reminded me of a gallows. Were they planning on hanging me from the crane?
I was both mortified and enticed. Before I could cast any more worry into the scenario, Jeb guided me around to the staircase that led up to the platform. He watched me cautiously as I walked, slowly and sure-footedly, across the platform and underneath the crane. I hesitated as the other officers followed behind him, their batons in their hand and their voices gruff and deliberate. I didn’t want to look in the other direction, toward the square, itself, because I could hear a crowd beginning to congregate below.
