by D. A. Maddox
“Is that … a problem?”
“Fucking no,” he laughed, throwing her over his shoulder and peeling off her pants with both hands in a single tug. “Makes me fucking horny, Savannah.”
“Yeah, I … got that,” she managed, head down over his back, “from your sim.”
Even as, onscreen, Melody unleashed Veronica from the collar.
I love you, Melody said, and quite literally, reverently, kissed Veronica’s ass.
You better, Veronica answered. Fucking brace yourself for when I get to love you back.
Then the other subs—Veronica’s furniture—transferred her to an X-shaped white stretcher and restrained her at all fours.
****
“What do you think?” Zeke asked offhandedly, lathering cream into Veronica’s armpits, one after the other with a shaving brush. He patted her uncoated, untreated wild thatch of black pubis. “Full bald? Kojak after an axe attack?”
They were dressed in surgical scrubs, complete with tie-off cloth facemasks. On the tin table between them, there was everything they’d need for a complete wax job, once they were done with the initial shaving. There was also a shock rod, just in case Veronica resisted or gave them attitude—or “flippancy”, as Zeke called it. Bright white globe lights on wires shone from overhead. Officer Theo mounted his camera between her legs, about a foot and a half back, so that her breasts didn’t completely obstruct the view of her face.
“It’s a tricky angle,” he told the boys. “But if you can get the twat shot in frame with her face at the same time, the audience loves that shit.”
Good to know, Veronica thought. Her ankles gave another reflexive jerk. Useless.
Rusty twirled his finger in her nether hair, pulling it a little here, a little there. “Racing stripe?” he suggested. “You know, in honor of her replacement?”
Tabby, as Veronica knew quite well, had a flaming orange racing stripe that made her look like her clit was at the fiery end of a lit fuse. Tabby didn’t give a fuck who saw what.
“What do you think, Ronnie?” Zeke asked, going to work on her fairly well-groomed pits with a safety razor. Swipe, swipe.
Rusty clicked on the electric shaver over her privates, then held it to her ear so she could listen to it buzz. “Not that it matters,” he said.
Veronica closed her eyes as the shaving began. Rusty had the beard trimmer attachment at work between her legs. It tickled her labia as her pelt was shorn away from the outside working in.
“I think,” Veronica said, spread-eagled and naked and utterly defenseless, “you should go home and motorboat your sister.”
At the monitoring desk, Nurse Reyes-Garcia sighed and dropped her head into her arms.
She laughed, as though against all efforts.
****
SUMMATIVE HUMILIATION AND DISCIPLINE REPORT
Subject: Inmate 197, Veronica Selena Jada Cruz, Age 22.
Special Penitent’s Clause 12A, Section 1, referred by parent (mother) and Professor Emile Krantz of Bridgemont University. Consent form on record.
Session 1a: 9 A.M. – 9:25 A.M. Collar and leash crawl / Subject nude and still wet from the shower / Walkers consisted of fellow students and transitional peers / Presented before fellow inmates in protective custody, taunting allowed / Role play: dog.
Infractions: 1: Disrespect to a punishment warden.
Punishment: Hairbrush paddling, pain level moderate.
Total complaints: 46, standard objections. Response: Filed.
Notable complaint: 1, Jada Forsythe Cruz, subject’s mother. Petition by videophone message when contact with administrator denied. Claim: “excessive recruiting of peer volunteers,” and “deliberate and calculated public cruelty.” Petitioner was abusive and used profanity. Threatened lawsuit. Petitioner is a regular Channel 382 subscriber going back 2 years, 7 months. Response: Filed.
Notable complaint: 2, Senator Brenda Worthington. Petition by email. Claim: repeated from previous petitions. Response: Filed.
Average Viewership during live feed: 188,901.
Peak viewership during live feed: 302,544.
New subscribers: 621.
Notes: Veronica’s system remained at acceptable levels throughout. There was one significant elevation, duration 23 seconds. Responses were typical, distress level productive. No cessation or pause was granted in the execution of sentence.
Session 1b: 9:30 A.M. – 10:57 A.M. Quartered restraint in vertical “Vitruvian Punk” X-frame bunk / Rolled into Preparation and Grooming spread-eagled, legs first, in the presence of fellow transitionals and peers / Denuded of 96.3% total body hair, minus head, including pubic shaving, plus waxing / duct tape adhesion and removal at armpits, legs, and buttocks. / Application of aloe accelerants over aggravated skin patches. / All contact by male Volunteer Humiliator transitionals and peers.
Infractions: 5: Repeated shouting, disrespect, and name-calling to Volunteer Humiliators (e.g. “cum-chugging fuck biscuit”), both while under and not under duress.
Punishment: Shock rod (level 2 of 4) to breasts, stomach, and pubis. Pain level: moderate-acute. Subject topped out on maximum allowable punishments and would not desist.
Total complaints: 358, standard objections. Response: Filed.
Notable complaint: 1, Senator Brenda Worthington. Petition by email. Claim: repeated from previous petitions. Bitch does not know when to quit. Response: Filed.
Average Viewership during live feed: 722,845.
Peak viewership during live feed: 1,300,112.
New subscribers: 11,639.
Notes: Veronica’s system remained at acceptable to moderately elevated levels throughout the session, but she seemed to “hit her stride” and achieve Acceptance Level, in spite of her verbal responses—which are simply part of who she is. Less crying in Session 1b than 1a despite increase in the intensity of corrections. No spikes in heart rate or blood flow, no excessive heavy or labored breathing. Responses were uncommon, distress level productive. No cessation or pause in the execution of sentence.
Humiliators broke form when hugging the subject at conclusion of discipline—deviation permitted. Subject remained bound but kissed both on the cheek in return. Subject wheeled from the room shouting, “One down! Three to go!” Returned to her cell, subject cleaned her face, refused assistance redressing.
Adjustments in discipline required. Not sure exactly what is happening here.
Filed by: Officer Helena Reyes-Garcia, R.N.
****
When class ended at three o’clock, Scott ambled over to the visitors’ family playground on the Orientation Quad. And it was exactly that: a slide, monkey bars, a swing set—all of the standard stuff—and all in an almost perpetual state of disuse. The exceptions to this included six days per year when family visits were permitted, and also change of semester when new students arrived, typically with parents who had their younger children in tow. Members of the campus staff and faculty, too, sometimes brought their kids here—but that was rare, as most of them lived off grounds.
This particular Tuesday, the playground was predictably deserted. There were still people about—the park was just off the bike trail, for one thing, and less than a quarter mile from the campus bookstore. Scott had to walk the perimeter of the playground, feigning nonchalance, whistling tunes, five times before he was completely certain that he was in the clear.
Quickly, trying not to think too hard on what he was doing, he bolted to the swing set, throwing his backpack ahead of him. From it, he withdrew a pair of bolt cutters and a rectangular white placard, which he placed at the foot of the swing set.
I promise to return this soon, with payment in an envelope for the broken chains. Please don’t try to bust me—I mean no harm. Sorry, kids! I just need this more than you do right now. Trust me. Sincerely, the nicest swing set burglar ever.
The set had two normal swings, one on each side, and a double-grip trapeze swing bar in between.
Scott took the swing bar and one seat
. Then, one completely stuffed backpack slung over his shoulder, he ran like hell.
Please don’t let me get caught, God, he prayed. As an afterthought, he added, and forgive me for praying to get away with it. Kind of conflicted here, God.
Scott didn’t think swing set stealing or vandalism amounted to much in the annals of crime and punishment. Surely the campus police had bigger fish to fry than him. But, if there was one thing Scott had learned in the past six hours, it was that the United States Department of Justice did not fuck around.
****
SUMMATIVE HUMILIATION AND DISCIPLINE REPORT (cont.)
Subject: Inmate 197, Veronica Selena Jada Cruz, Age 22.
Adjustments in Punitive Plan Implemented; B-Team Humiliators temporarily activated.
Session 2: 6:30 P.M. – 8:28 P.M. Hands in the Dark / Sensory Deprivation by blindfold and expanding inner ear plugs (subject tested positive for allergens in the Chemical S.D. compound). / Stripping by strangers in the Cold Room / Suspension by single double-wrist knot, one-foot elevation from floor, intermittent relaxations to avoid injury / Weighted clamps attached to nipples and inner labia by mystery humiliators / Blindfold and earplugs removed to reveal three former high school acquaintances, all suitors subject had rebuffed / Body painting / Hose rinse.
Infractions: 3: Profanity and screaming while not under physical duress (e.g. “Go ahead. Take a good look at what you’ll never have, bitches”).
Admin. response: Ball gagging, wet towel-whipping, ten minutes while still suspended.
Subject temperament modification successful. No further adjustment or deviation from schedule anticipated for Sessions 3 and 4.
Total complaints: 518, standard objections. Response: Filed.
Notable complaints: 0.
Average Viewership during live feed: 3,822,430.
Peak viewership during live feed: 5,107,288.
New subscribers: 850.
Notes: Prior to sentence execution, I explained to Veronica what we would do and reminded her that at no time would she be in physical danger. I further explained to her—reminded her—that this was penance, both physical and psychological, and not a party. Veronica’s resistance was mild to moderate, but resigned. More tears, repeated requests for an alternative plan, all denied on my authority.
Veronica’s system remained elevated at non-threatening levels throughout. Four significant elevations, durations 28 seconds, 15 seconds, 45 seconds, 202 seconds. Responses were typical, distress level productive. No cessation or pause granted during the execution of sentence, except as noted above.
Offer of post-session counseling met with, “You think I need a goddamn shrink? Please, Madam Reyes-Garcia. You mean well. Don’t even.”
This, in the end, is Veronica. This is what I must deal with.
Punishments already on schedule for tomorrow.
Filed by: Officer Helena Reyes-Garcia, R.N.
****
Savannah slumped down at her desk, tired but done for the day. It was past dinnertime, but she’d wait for Alisha, as usual. She had forty-five minutes to kill and, oddly for her, nothing much to do. She powered on her laptop.
New email alert. How had she missed that? She drew out her phone, realizing she still had it on mute for class.
Dummy, she thought. You could have missed a text from Scott.
Fortunately, she hadn’t. She was hesitant about opening her email, though. Her track record with recent emails made the very appearance of a new message send low rumbles of warning thunder through her brain. But, then again, what could you do?
She opened her inbox. It was from Dr. Kubilus. The subject line read: News.
Savannah’s eyebrows arched in surprise. This would be about her essay. It had to be, even though the good doctor had assured her the response time would be weeks, perhaps months. Certainly not days. But Savannah just didn’t have any upcoming projects or assignments in that class—hadn’t even been in that class since last week.
She clutched her pendant. What do you think, Mom? Maybe?
She opened the email.
And squealed so loudly with delight that four of her dorm sisters broke into her room to make sure she was okay.
Chapter Twenty-Six:
Trial
Wednesday, 8 AM.
A hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Veronica’s eyes fluttered open, then batted some more against the light. She passed a hand over her face. She rolled over.
Nurse Reyes-Garcia, the very queen of her nightmares, in the spare chair in front of her cot.
“Good morning, Veronica. How are you feeling today?”
She was glad it was her, although she could not have said why. Officer Alejandro hadn’t put her through half of what his wife had, and yet she felt safer with the nurse. Probably because she is a nurse, she told herself.
Neither of them meant her real harm. In the light of a new day, she finally believed that.
“Who, me, Madam Reyes-Garcia?” she said with a yawn, sitting up. “Oh, I feel reprimanded as f—”
“Careful.”
Veronica winked at her.
“You slept through breakfast,” Nurse Reyes-Garcia said. “We shall see to a light brunch after your next session.”
“Yes, ma’am. And you’ll be torturing me and having people play with my clitoris around what time, exactly?”
Nurse Reyes-Garcia seemed unruffled. “Your teachers must adore you. Stand after me, please.”
Veronica obeyed, rolling her eyes. She made no effort at resistance as a new collar went around her neck—but this one was metal. “Hey,” she said, starting to reach for it.
Nurse Reyes-Garcia flashed a small handheld control in front of her face. “Don’t,” she said. “That is a shock collar. You are familiar?”
Veronica’s lips narrowed. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Excellent. You require no explanation. You need never feel it, Veronica, even though you have already earned one punishment for today because of your language yesterday evening—and another for your sarcasm and petulance just now. I do not wish to add to that. And yet I get the sense there is something at work here I am not a part of. If I did not know any better, I would venture you bring this misery upon yourself on purpose. The parameters laid out in your consent form forbid me from certain lines of questioning. It is very frustrating. Understand, it is an important part of my work to help my charges through this experience, and in your case, it is difficult for me to do so.”
Veronica looked away from her, off to the side. “I owe a debt,” she said, feeling her face redden with the admission. “I didn’t know it until I got here. I … have to pay it, Madam Reyes-Garcia. You can help me do that.”
“Something not listed in the consent form? I am not asking you for specifics. ‘Yes, ma’am’ or ‘No ma’am’ will do.”
Just talking about it made the guilt hit her all over again. She palmed her eyes. “I did something … so fucked up, Madam Reyes-Garcia—” Then she stopped. The swearing…
Nurse Reyes-Garcia actually brushed that aside with a wave of her hand. “If you wish, continue. I will not compel you. But I am here.”
“I broke a … sacred trust,” Veronica said, now looking down over her jumpsuit, thinking how appropriate it was that she was wearing one. “I set people up to be hurt who did nothing to me. I betrayed the only friends I had. I … suck, Madam Reyes-Garcia.”
She sat back down, unable for the moment to keep her feet, and wrapped her arms around her stomach.
“I’m a bad person. There’s no reason in the world why you should want to help me. Just punish me.”
Nurse Reyes-Garcia took a knee in front of her, set down the remote, and took her hands. “You have done bad things,” she granted her. “You shall pay for them—have already paid, in part. But you are not a bad person, Veronica. I am not sure I entirely believe in ‘bad’ people … although I confess you can be quite a pointy-tit witch bitch from time to time.”
They shared a laugh, V
eronica again wiping her eyes.
“For the sake of argument, a ‘bad’ person is not likely to feel as you do now—ever. You are twenty-two years old, Veronica Cruz. You have your whole life to make new choices. Some, I think, will be quite good, going forward. Others not so much. It is how we are as human beings. You have not even been criminally charged.”
“I could have been,” she said. “Just punish me. Let me pay the only way I can.”
Nurse Reyes-Garcia then enclosed her ankles with two unlinked rings of much the same make and material as the collar. “Oh, but I shall,” she then said, rising again. “I fear that I have as much context as I am likely to get from you, Miss Cruz. It will have to be enough. I do think I understand you a little better, personally—the motives for your behavior, as well. I am content. We shall finish today, and tomorrow you shall go back to school. I will do as you have asked.”
“What, Madam Reyes-Garcia? What will you do?”
“I shall let you pay,” she said. “Your way. By the time that we are done, no one will doubt your account is settled in full.”
“You sure about that?”
“I guarantee it,” said Nurse Reyes-Garcia. “Oh, Veronica. It is my specialty.”
****
The third punishment session was already set. There was no altering it at this point. But as Nurse Reyes-Garcia marched Veronica Cruz down the hall that led to the chamber with their upscale restaurant settings and props, her mind was hard at work on the re-specifications of the final ordeal.
There would be judgment as well as payment.
But first—there would be service. At the end of the hall was a bib apron and lace cap bonnet hanging from a wall peg. They were such as a French maid might wear attending to the housekeeping needs of a billionaire. Of course, a typical servant would have more than a strip of cloth around her waist, one that would not cover the crotch, and a hat. But Veronica would make do.
Nurse Reyes-Garcia let her arm go at the door—a door which looked like any other in this part of the prison. But behind it, there awaited a surprise. Also, there was the smell of food: eggs and sausage, syrup for waffles, bacon, coffee. The young lady awaiting service had specifically requested no meat or dairy, so there would also be a generous selection of fruits and cooked vegetables, as well as a variety of toasted breads.
