by Mark Andrews
Carl withdrew the lash from his body and I now invited Jan to move up close to him. “Feel him down, if you like. Pretend he is a slave you are assessing for possible purchase... anything that strikes your fancy, Miss O’Connor,” I said softly.
“Can I really?” she asked, staring up at me.
“You can indeed. Don’t worry about him trying to touch you. If he even moves a finger, he will be zapped - like this...”
I pressed the buttons on my controller which sent him into more strictures of pain and she stared at me in wonder. “What did you do? What is it?”
I explained about his testicular implant and she nodded, her face now registering more glee. She reached in and ran her small hands all over his body, just as he had done with her on that fateful night...
But then it was time for his second stroke and this time, Carl applied it from behind. It landed near the site of the first stroke and his reactions were similar, if not a little more intense still. Again she moved in and felt him down until it was time for the third stroke - and all the rest that followed, each time, her former malaise and distress seeming to be washed away by his punishment.
When Carl had delivered the last stroke, she moved up to him and laid her hand up on his smooth broad chest. “Thank you so much, Mr Jordan. I really feel cleansed of his stink now...”
We, Jan, Arthur and I left then to go back to my office for another coffee, while they let Sandy down and prepared him for the final act in this high drama.
I had asked Arthur how he had raped her, explaining that I wanted to reproduce the act but with the boot on the other foot, so to speak. He had understood immediately. “As I understand it, he got her back over a low table, Will.”
Accordingly, we had set up a similar table in a room I had set aside for these events and Sandy was even now standing against its edge with his feet drawn out wide and tied to the foot of the near legs. His arms weren’t tied down. Carl was going to look after that aspect himself.
He was waiting for us in the room, still wearing the wrap-around loincloth but with the helmet removed. Jan was still unaware what was coming but I told her that this final act would hopefully rid her of all the cobwebs of fear and distress at her treatment by this scum. She looked up at me confidently. “I have no idea what you are going to show me, Mr Chalmers, but I have trust in you...”
We walked in and I think she guessed straight away what was coming for she moved straight up to Carl. “Make him hurt, Carl,” she said, and now her voice was strong and almost authoritative.
“I sure will, Miss,” he said softly and then whipped off his loin cloth to reveal his enormous pecker, already twitching in anticipation of the coming act of retribution. She stayed near, watching avidly as he stroked it to a full erection and then moved up close to Sandy’s curvaceous buttocks, bending his knees slightly to allow entry between them, while Sandy moaned in more fear and then screamed.
“No, don’t do this to me! I’m sorry for what I done. I’ll never do it again! Please don’t fuck me!”
I looked at Jan. She just smiled. “Do it to him, Carl,” she said - and he did.
He rammed his now iron-hard pole up between Sandy’s so boyish buttocks, as before, penetrating his anus in one clean movement and burying the whole length of his cock right into his rectum. Sandy screamed long and loudly, of course, just as he had the previous time Carl had raped him. Carl’s gigantic weapon stretching his anus so wide could hardly allow otherwise, no matter how often he suffered under that incredible tool. I knew it would take a long time for his anus to adjust itself to something of that size, even allowing for the remarkable property of that organ to adapt to larger and larger intruders.
And then Carl started to rut, jerking his weapon in and out of Sandy’s backside, sometimes pushing his upper body down over the table, at others allowing him to rise but all the time putting on a magnificent show for Jan who prowled around the table, staring in at her rapist now getting his what for, delighting in the agony on his face, which after an hour or more on the plough and a dozen strokes of the lash to his testicles and penis, was most vividly displaying his distress.
Carl was able to keep it up for nearly half an hour but then he could hold back no longer and withdrawing his cock from the prisoner’s backside, sprayed his come all over his back and buttocks.
I hastily escorted Jan out of the room and back to my office where she stared from Arthur to me dreamily. “That was wonderful,” she said softly. For the first time since my rape, I feel whole again.” She paused a moment but then asked if we would be repeating this punishment.
I grinned. “Oh he will be working on the plough alright, but yes, while the whip and his rape this time were for you alone, in the future he will be scheduled for the same things but this time in front of a paying audience. We want to make this place pay for itself, you see, Miss O’Connor.
She grinned - and this time it was a real grin and not just a weak smile. “Wonderful. And I just might be among the paying customers,” she said.
Chapter 4
A week after Jan’s visit, I had a visit from my friend Wayne Childs. You will remember he was the head of MediAid, the firm which had devised and created the tiny capsule which we had implanted onto each of the male prisoners’ testicle (and to the inner clitoral wall of the females).
After our greeting, his usual inspection of the facility and our catching up socially, he grinned as he sipped his coffee and looked at me over my desk.
“What?” I said, knowing he was going to drop a bombshell.
“Well, first off, here it is,” he said, fishing out from his pocket an even smaller, wafer-like card than the testicular implant. He tossed it across to me.
I turned it over in my hand, marvelling at its tiny size and of course remarking on the speed with which he had come up with it. “How much?” I asked tentatively.
“About half the testicular units,” he said, grinning even more widely. “By the way, how are they working on your female prisoners?”
“Perfectly. The gun zaps them through the skin and onto the ultra-sensitive flesh of the clitoral organ. I think it might be even more successful with them.” I paused a moment as I turned over the tiny chip in my fingers. “And this one will sense an incipient erection and zap the males’ cocks?”
“It will, but our researches have suggested that it will work best if inserted near the root of the penis. That way it will sense the flow of blood at the very outset of an erection and since the zap it gives will be very powerful, you don’t need it near the more sensitive head of the penile organ.”
“Thanks, Wayne, I suspect when this takes off, you’re going to be inundated with orders from all over the world - by the way, are you getting orders yet for the testicular zapper?”
“We sure are. Word travels fast in your industry. We’re getting enquiries from as far afield as the UK and the Middle East, not to mention Russia and China. If it wasn’t for your ridiculous ethics, we would be paying you handsomely for your ideas.”
I laughed. “I’m being paid well enough by the department, Wayne, but thanks for the vote of confidence - and I’m glad you’re going to be doing so well out of it.” I paused then, looking at him inquiringly for a few seconds.
Now it was his turn to laugh. “Alright, I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. What I’ve just told you could just as easily have been said over the phone. But not this...”
He reached down to his bag and drew out a small plant in one of those cardboard-type pots which are used to grow seedlings and put it on the desk in front of me. “Ever seen one of these before?” but I knew his question was rhetorical. Its stem was smooth, like a round bean although the top of the shoot looked like a little like the mouth of a Venus fly trap or perhaps more like a marine anemone, both of which suck in their prey from the air (or sea).
�
�What is it?” I asked
“I’ll tell you in a minute, but first, have you ever heard of the Chinese torture where the victim is seated naked over a chair with a hole in it? A fast-growing bamboo is then placed under the hole and its shoot is introduced into the man’s anus. In that warm, foetid atmosphere it then grows even more rapidly swelling and shooting up his intestine until he is in real agony?”
I nodded. “Vaguely, but not for a long time. I don’t think it’s in use these days, is it?”
“I suspect it might be. Who knows what goes on in various parts of Asia and I wouldn’t put it past the CIA either, if they have heard of it... But no, this plant doesn’t do that. Actually its properties are quite remarkable.”
“And they are?”
He grinned. “Unlike the bamboo, whose shoot has to be manually introduced into the anus, this one actually seeks it out and when it is well inside, about thirty centimetres, I believe, it start work.”
“What does it do?”
“It gives them electric shocks, right up inside their bodies. But there’s more. Once it senses it is inside its victim’s rectum, it sends out another shoot that winds around to the front. If it encounters male genitalia, it winds this secondary stem around the balls and cock and then, when it reaches the end, extrudes a thin tentacle from its ‘mouth’ and slides right inside the urethra where it starts to shock him some more, both inside and outside the genitals.”
I was in a daze by now and made as if to speak but he grinned again and held up his hand. “There’s still more, Will. The anal branch is still growing, right on up to the end of the large intestine and sometime up into the small and it continues to shock its victim. So does the second branch and the pain here is even greater for the while the external male genitals are sensitive enough, the inner lining of the urethra is very much so, as you know.
“But then a third branch emerges from the stem and this finds its way up the body to the nipples where it divides in two. If the victim is a male, it merely clamps on to them and shocks him some more; if female, it will already have induced lactation (by means of a secretion from the mouth of the first branch immediately it entered her anus). It is apparently a secondary thing but the plant likes human milk.
“If the victim is female, the second branch goes into her vagina and starts work there...”
“But what is that work?” I cried, dazed but astonished.
He grinned again. “The shocks, together with the various secretions from the three branches cause the human (and some other animals, too, apparently) body to secrete various hormones which are essential to the plant’s continued existence. It continues to feed on them for a couple of hours that exhausts the victim but gives it life for about a month. As soon as it is replete, it retracts out of its victim’s body, shrinks back to an innocuous-looking cactus and waits for another suitable victim to come along.”
“How does it trap him or her?”
“It’s smart. It can grow a beautiful flower in seconds and when the victim bends over to look at it, it paralyses him with a shock. It then starts by boring through his clothing at the crotch, using chemicals and teeth to penetrate the cloth and starts burrowing. As this happens, the chemical begins to work on the victim’s remaining clothing and in only a few minutes, he is naked - stark naked. Don’t ask me what the chemical is; I haven’t got that far yet. Anyway, as soon as his clothing is gone, the other two tentacles or branches start to grow and do their work...”
“Wayne, this is all very interesting but what’s it got to do with me or this unit?”
Again he grinned and now I knew I was going to get to the crux of the matter.
“It seems that each victim, male or female, once the torture (for what else can you call it) is over, becomes a model citizen. If they were aggressive, they become mild-mannered and pleasant. If greedy, they become generous; if lazy, industrious, and so on.
“The plant comes from the high Andes. It came to our notice by means of an explorer who spent some years living with the Indians in the high mountains. They trusted him enough to show him the plant and also showed him how they used it to tame their criminals... Is it starting to mean something now?”
“Good God. You’re suggesting we use it on our cons?”
“I am. I suspect the authorities will jump at it for, according to that explorer, the tribe has no need of prisons or any other form of punishment. If a tribesman or woman errs sufficiently, he or she is subjected to the rigours of the plant. The pain is apparently extraordinarily intense and that instils fear into the tribes-people for each ‘treatment’ or punishment is carried out in front of them all, even the children, as a deterrent to aberrant behaviour.
“As soon as I heard of it, I thought of you and this unit. Laws, local and international have been changed to accommodate what you are doing here, Will; don’t you think this could be an even more salutary means of correction than what you are doing - or perhaps at the end of it.
“Believe me, I had some doubts about bringing it to you for if it proves to be as efficacious as I have described, it will render this second implant superfluous.”
“Oh no it won’t. Even if it works as well as you intimate and the government went along with testing it, I doubt they would forego your units, at least not until it was very well tried and tested and that would take years. But do you seriously suggest that it will do all you claim?”
“To be honest, I have no idea. All I have told you is from the explorer’s report. He brought this plant back with him and showed us how to grow it. I’ve brought it to you. You can do with it as you will.”
He paused a moment but then grinned again. “Even if it only shocks the victims though, it would be a marvellous punishment, wouldn’t it? Imagine setting the criminal up in front of his victim and then subjecting him to its rigours. It’d be better by a mile than merely raping him, wouldn’t it?”
I laughed. “You’re impossible, Wayne, but yes, I agree. Are the instructions with it?”
“Here they are. They’re simple enough and it’s a very hardy plant. Let me know how you get on with the DG.”
“Sure will, and thanks, friend.”
I was somewhat surprised at the DG’s reaction to Wayne’s plant. He was actually enthusiastic and said he’d be down that afternoon as he wanted to check it out himself. I suspected he had heard of it elsewhere but I wasn’t prepared for his orders after he had looked it over and read the details Wayne had left with me.
“I want you to contact Jan O’Connor again, Will. Tell her briefly of the plant and invite her to come and see its tender mercies inflicted on young Sandy Blake. I take it he has recovered from the demonstration of our new treatment?”
“He has, David,” I said, but I was shocked that he was implying that we were going to use it on the young punk without referring it to the government. He caught my look and smiled briefly. “You’re wrong, Will. The minister is well aware of this plant and of Wayne’s visit to you; in fact he suggested it. He is very keen to see if it works. If so, we believe a combination of your methods and the plant’s, er, treatment, will quickly spell the end of the vast majority of major crime.”
“How are we going to test the one if we’re still using my methods?” I asked, but I already knew the answer and I was right.
“As soon as he has been ‘raped’ by the plant, you will house him by himself in a proper cell with a bed and bedding equivalent to that he had in his old prison. He can eat your food. With you, if you like, while you, as a trained psychiatrist will observe and determine if it really works. Did Wayne say how many treatments were recommended?”
“He didn’t, but the implication was one only.”
Right, then let’s leave it at that. Any objections?”
“No, sir - David.”
I didn’t, either. My system had been based on existing know
ledge. If the plant did indeed ‘cure’ criminals and aberrants of their antisocial behaviour, I would be more than happy to use it but somehow I doubted it would be. It was just too good to be true; the powers attributed to a simple plant just too incredible. But I was more than willing to test it out and who better than Sandy Blake.
Jan was ecstatic about the invitation, at least according to Arthur Franks, her psychiatrist. What Sandy thought about it we didn’t enquire. She even agreed that Wayne and the DG could come along to watch.
I would have liked to test it according to Wayne’s advice - that the plant could beguile people into bending over to examine its beautiful flower and then suffer its ministrations - but reason told me it would be better for Jan’s treatment if he was secured already naked. Accordingly we suspended him in a long ‘X’ between two uprights we built in between the floor and ceiling.
Once Jan and the other visitors were in place, Carl brought in the plant and placed it below Sandy’s widely outstretched thighs. We hadn’t told him anything and he now stared down at the plant in its pot in some mystification.
The plant didn’t waste any time. Don’t ask me how it sensed his presence above him but it did, for the primary shoot immediately began to extend upwards towards his buttocks and its (at the moment) pointed tip (like that of an asparagus shoot) to delve in between them. Sandy cried out and started to struggle but the plant was resourceful and soon wormed its way into his anus.
As soon as it was inside, the second shoot began to grow up towards his genitals. I glanced at Jan and was pleased to see her looking almost ecstatic at the plant’s two shoots now working on his body; the first already inside it and presumably doing nasty things to his anus and rectum, while the second was clearly headed towards his genitals.
