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The Facilitator
Chapter 2
The Harris Service
Lisa’s wedding had gone very well, for everyone but the blushing bride. Within 30 minutes of the post-ceremony check, I had returned to my desk and was reviewing the monthly report on pre-trial semi-custodial inmates. There you go – anyone who thinks that the life of a Facilitator is all public ceremonies and wild experiences should sift through just a small percentage of the paperwork crap that I have to put up with every day. Whoever said that the HoloWeb would decrease paper? They must not have worked for the Government!
To tell the truth, though, I often enjoyed these reports. This month’s report focused on private contractors who had recently begun running pre-trial centers for the Government. This was a system known as the “Harris Service” after Francis Harris, the high-level bureaucrat who first designed the idea. It was a simple but effective process – rather than have every pre-trial detainee cluttering up the system, why not let those who have actual jobs to remain in the community, with restrictions? Most of the time this worked very well, and since the private contractors had gotten involved, the style and quality of the monthly reports had greatly improved.
This month’s was no exception. Behind a glossy cover showing a young woman racing towards a door while looking anxiously at her watch, the report promised that it would contain the full account of Melanie Barren’s first month in pre-trial custody.
Melanie Barren was one of those rare phenomenons in today’s society – the female celebrity. A weather girl with GGBN (Global Government Broadcasting Network) she had become part of the background of the morning news report for many people. Dressed in frilly tops, she spun and twirled her way across the screens, managing to make even the gloomiest November day seem like a passing cloud.
Naturally, she attracted the attention of many male suitors, and since she was already the property of the GGBN, the network soon decided to auction her off on air. The viewership numbers for the auction were among the highest the Government had seen, and Melanie quickly became the fifth wife of Roger McMalley, one of the wealthiest media tycoons in the area.
McMalley enjoyed his wife for about six months, until one day he awoke to find his morning holo-screen covered with an interview Melanie had given to a rival videopaper. In it, she claimed that McMalley allowed her great freedom, and that she didn’t even listen particularly hard to his stated desires.
Within moments, Melanie had a civil contempt order slapped on her. She was lucky that she was not charged with Criminal Breach of Contract, since this would have landed her in immediate detention. Since she was only being sued in civil court, she would have access to semi-detention options for pre-trial.
But what would this be like for such an attractive, spoiled young woman? I turned to the first page, and chuckled out loud. On the left was a photo of Melanie taken from the publicity spread of GGBN 18 months ago. Wearing a string bikini made of a see-through polymer, Melanie was caught at the moment of orgasm, gasping backwards as the first jets of a warm summer rain played upon her body. I smiled at the memory of her ‘Summer Special’ weather reports. On the right was a photo of Melanie taken today, one month into her pre-trial experience. Her brunette hair chopped roughly short, her eyes lowered demurely to the ground, and a rough sack-like garment covering her body. She was reaching out towards a pole that had a pair of handcuffs dangling from about six feet, and I could easily tell from the hollows and smudges on her cheeks that she had neither slept nor washed very much recently.
The report itself was set out as an interview between Melanie and the Manager of the Home in which she had been housed. Rather than attempt to summarize it, I’ll just let you read the interview in its complete form.
Q: Good morning, Melanie.
A: Good morning, Madam. (Melanie then stood up and curtsied, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground).
Q: On GGBN, you were known for your sexy and outrageous outfits. I’m sure that everyone reading this would like to know what you think about your current outfit. Let’s start by telling them what you wear every day.
A: Ma’am, next to my skin I wear a one-piece woolen girdle that goes from my neck to my ankles, and has long sleeves. It is purposefully one size too small.
Q: How does it feel?
A: May I be honest?
Q: Of course.
A: Terrible. It itches constantly, and I can’t breathe very well. And I hate, just hate how I must look.
Q: There’s something else you’re wearing under the girdle, isn’t there? That’s one demerit for forgetting.
A: I’m so sorry. I am of course wearing a chastity belt. It’s made of poly-metal, which softens only when I evacuate waste. It stops any attempt at penetration, and I can’t touch myself down there at all. Not that I would want to anymore.
Q: Why not? I thought you were highly sexual.
A: I am. Or, I was. But I have an internal inhibitor emplaced now.
Q: What does this do?
A: If my body temperature rises too far, it begins to send electric shocks to my clitoris. And if anything ever penetrates me, needles insert themselves into my inner labia.
Q: Has anyone penetrated you since your arrival here?
A: You’ve been kind enough to not force me to sleep in the common dormitory. But my husband still has marital rights, so once a week he has taken me. The pain is really awful.
Q: Let’s get back to your clothes. What do you wear over your underwear?
A: I wear thick black wool stockings, and on my feet I wear these horrible sand shoes.
Q: Sand shoes?
A: Yes. They are two sizes too small, and have sandpaper lining. Not to mention that one sole is 2” thicker than the other, so I limp all the time now.
Q: That’s a really ugly dress you’re wearing.
A: Yes Ma’am. I’m learning to hate my appearance. It is made of jute, which is a rough fiber and colored gray even when it is clean. As you can see, I cut the neckholes and arm holes myself, so they are a little rough.
Q: Are you wearing any jewelry?
A: Only the wristband that marks me as a civil pre-trial designee. I am not allowed to wear jewelry, makeup, or perfume.
Q: What happened to all of your jewelry?
A: I think it was automatically forfeited to my husband.
Q: And your hair? Is that a new style this year?
A: Um, no. I had it cut off two days ago because I had earned five demerits this week.
Q: Do you mind?
A: (crying quietly) No. It … it was starting to smell pretty badly anyway.
Q: You do smell. When do you wash?
A: Your Home supports HSD (NB: “Historical Standard Detention”). I wash fully once a month, and well, I suppose the readers want to know how often I change my clothes? Once a month as well. So hopefully tomorrow I’ll be allowed to wash myself and these clothes.
Q: Do you wash at all between the official washing days?
A: I take a turn at a bucket with the other detainees once a day, but usually I can only clean my face and hands a little.
Q: What about using the toilet?
A: Well, I am only allowed to use the toilet four times a day, and naturally I understand that a flush toilet is too good for the likes of me. I use a chamber pot, and you are very kind to provide me with newspapers and rags to tear up for the paper.
Q: Tell us about your typical weekday.
A: I get up at
Q: What’s your normal breakfast?
A: Cold mutton, a tin of water, and stale bread.
Q: Pleasant!
A: I used to be a vegetarian.
Q: Then what?
A: Luckily, I am allowed out
from
Q: What do you do there?
A: I am in charge of copying the dictionary out by hand.
Q: And lunch? You used to be famous for your gourmet tastes!
A: I don’t eat lunch, since I have no right to a bank account anymore.
Q: What happens at
A: If I am not home by
Q: And what do you do at home?
A: Evenings are always stressful. I owe 3 hours a day on the post, so I try to get in a line to do this before dinner.
Q: Tell the readers about the post.
A: This is one of your innovations, Madam. It teaches me patience. I handcuff myself to a six-foot tall post, and stand there with my arms over my head for three hours, thinking about how silly I have been to let myself get into this mess.
Q: Do you get dinner?
A: Yes, unless I am on the post. It’s the same as breakfast – cold mutton, water, and stale bread.
Q: What do you do during the weekends?
A: My husband doesn’t think I should be allowed out at the weekend, so I spend the weekend in Close Confinement.
Q: Tell us about that.
A: On Friday evenings I have Oral Practice, where I have to spend four hours on my knees licking a fake vagina. This is filmed, and can be seen on the GGBN Late Late Show every week.
Q: Are you a lesbian?
A: No, Ma’am, but I’m learning.
Q: Why is it so important for you to learn this?
A: It’s quite possible that the Court may order me to be lesbianized as part of my civil penalty.
Q: What happens after Oral Practice?
A: I am locked in an isolation cell for the weekend. These are 6’x8’ metal rooms, with only a mat on the floor. The lights burn all the time.
Q: Do you get much rest?
A: No, not really. Every few hours loud sirens ring out, and meals are served at irregular intervals, so it’s very hard to keep track of time.
Q: We’re nearly done here. Tell me what happens when you get demerits.
A: We get punished according to the Demerit Chart, and are count is reset every week:
One Demerit: One week in an isolation cell, one meal a day.
Two Demerits: One week in an isolation cell, four hour session with Mistress.
Three Demerits: No food for two weeks (water allowed), anal dilation to 15”.
Four Demerits: Washing Day cancelled, 100 lashes, toilet privileges revoked for one month.
Five Demerits: Hair removed 200 lashes a day for one week.
Six Demerits: Automatic prison sentence of one month following trial.
Seven Demerits: Transfer to prison for remainder of pre-trial period.
Eight Demerits: Isolation cell for remainder of pre-trial period, one meal a day.
Nine Demerits: Larynx paralyzed for 12 months, tube-fed for 12 months.
Ten Demerits: Immediate 10 year prison term.
Q: What is the highest number of demerits you have received in one week?
A: Five, Madam.
Q: That’s all for now. Now get up, Melanie, because you owe me one week in an isolation cell on one meal a day.
I closed the issue, sighing with pleasure at the economic efficiency of this system. It gave sadists like Lucinda Marples, the owner of Melanie’s ‘House’ a chance to vent their ideas, and in turn kept civil detainees out of the prison system. I like to think that when I retire from this job, I may well find myself a place in the private system, running one of these Houses for wayward girls.
Now, it’s jumping ahead a bit, but those of you who followed Melanie’s trial will know the outcome … and those who didn’t are probably curious about what happened to her. I refer all readers to the following account from the Government Gazette:
EX-WEATHER GIRL FOUND RESPONSIBLE
ON ALL CHARGES
Melanie Barren escapes
prison term for civil contempt
METROPOLIS, June 13:
In a packed courtroom today, The Honorable Judge Wilhelm Franklin found Melanie Barren, the ex-weather girl star of GGBN’s Morning Show responsible on a charge of Civil Contempt filed against her almost five years ago by her husband, media tycoon Roger McMalley.
When Judge Franklin read the sentence, Melanie’s shoulders drooped slightly, and this reporter saw a sigh quiver through her skinny frame. The once gorgeous defendant, standing nude as is the custom when a verdict is to be read, had appeared throughout the trial to be much less sure of herself than the girl some remember from the HoloScreens of yesteryear.
“I take some responsibility for this,” claimed a well-turned out Lucinda Marples, manager of the Harris System Home where Melanie has spent the past four and a half years as a pre-trial detainee. “I always do my utmost to instill in my girls a sense of guilt and responsibility, as well as shame for their actions.”
Indeed, Melanie, who represented herself, barely questioned any of the Plaintiff’s witnesses, preferring instead to apologize repeatedly to her husband and the court.
Unfortunately, the silly girl must have forgotten that when a defendant is a woman, the burden of proof rests with them – she had to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that she was innocent of the offense charged.
Judge Franklin, a college roommate of Roger McMalley’s, nevertheless stated that he felt some “sympathy” for the defendant. Her actions, however, had given him no choice but to pass a sentence upon her. Having been advised by Mr. McMalley’s lawyers that a humiliation sentence would be preferable to a custodial sentence, Judge Franklin stuck to a well-known path in passing sentence. “Melanie Barren,” he intoned. “You are hereby sentenced as follows: You are to have the Inhibitor Device permanently installed, and are to be employed for a minimum period of six years as Scullery Maid to Mr. Roger McMalley.”
Mr. McMalley, who had advance notice of the sentence, smiled broadly and shook his lawyers’ hands. “She’ll be doing more than cleaning my plates,” he told this reporter. “And the Inhibitor just makes the penetration more fun for me.”
Melanie
Barren, as a convicted female, is of course considered immediately divorced,
and is banned for a period of 25 years from possessing a bank account, a lease,
or a jet-pack. When this reporter
attempted to interview her, he was stopped by one of Mr. McMalley’s employees,
who informed him that Mr. McMalley had already gone ahead and paralyzed her
larynx, since he preferred not to have to listen to the sound of a servant’s
voice.
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