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From Orientation
for X.
III. Daily Routine - Daily Punishment: The procedures for prisoner’s daily
punishments will vary according to the punishments handed down by the day’s
tribunal. Guards should remember that
punishments are intended to cause torment and pain but no harm. This means no broken or torn bones or ligaments,
minimal bruising, no dangerous impairments to blood circulation or breathing.
The
tribunal has a wide menu of punishments to choose from. They vary so much that only a few can be
discussed here. These punishments are
for regular misbehaviors. Special
Punishments are for exceptional circumstances and are described in a special
section below. (Section V.)
* * * *
I don’t
know why I had told the judges what I did about that guard. I was tired.
Of all the people that are now in my life, the judges, the MA’s and the
guards, this one guard seems like a decent person. At least he looks at me like he somehow has
feelings like he’s still a human being.
I need to see a human being. What
would it be like to be married with a husband and a family? This man could be husband material. So I said what I said to that judge.
Afterwards,
they came up with the most unusual punishment yet. They dragged me out of my cage and made me
stand. Then they uncuffed my hands and
made me cross my wrists behind my back.
They tied them together with thin twine.
They removed the chains from my legs and substituted twine. This was a special kind of twine. It reminded me of fishing line. I could feel it on my ankles but when I
looked down could hardly see it. I had
the same amount of restraint on my walking as I had before but now the ties
made no sound and were nearly invisible.
Then they
pulled a cotton dress over me. It was
all black. Since my arms were tied together
under the dress, they tucked the sleeves in.
Then they brought me a nun’s whimper.
This is the white thing they put on about their heads. Before they put it over me and arranged the
veil down my back, they plugged my ears so I couldn’t hear anything. The veal was black, too. White fabric acted as a collar around my
neck. Other hard fabric blocked the
sides of my face and a heavy band circled my forehead. My face was framed by the nun’s whimper. As a final touch, they put a pair of dark
glasses over my eyes. These weren’t
ordinary glasses for blocking out the sun.
Their insides had been painted so that I couldn’t see.
They
stuffed me into a van and tied me down.
I felt straps over my shoulders and my stomach. My back was tied to the side of the van. They strapped my ankles together and tied
them down to a hook in the floor. I felt
guards seated on each side of me.
Some time
went by. At length the van stopped. They unstrapped me and pushed me
outside. The guards on each side of me
made me stand up. They removed the
glasses from my eyes.
We were
standing on a busy street in the capital city.
I could see the traffic and the people walking but I couldn’t hear
anything. I felt a thrill as finally I
saw something normal. There was a couple
about my age walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. How I wished I could be the girl on the boy’s
arm! Then I felt such great sadness as I
realized that I would never again experience anything like that. My arms were tied behind my back, my legs
were hobbled so that I could only walk slowly, and my ears were plugged so that
I couldn’t hear anything. I was a
prisoner and everybody else in sight was not.
I had been sentenced for life.
They made
me walk down the street and around the corner.
The nice guard was dressed in regular street clothes. I supposed this was to mock me. I fought back my tears.
Around the
corner was a small sidewalk café. The
nice guard and I sat down at a table.
The guard ordered. I couldn’t
hear what the waiter and the guard said.
In a few minutes drinks and a snack were placed on the table. The guard had a sorry expression on his
face. Maybe they were making him go
through this, too. He didn’t seem to
enjoy this. He spoke something to me; I
have no idea what it was. He nervously
drank from his glass. With my arms tied,
I couldn’t do anything.
I was in
the middle of all of these people. They
looked at me with shocked and scandalous expressions. I guess they thought that I was a nun who was
fooling around. I knew I must not say
anything. That is one of the prison’s
firmest rules for me: I must not speak
to anybody outside of the prison or I would be severely punished. These punishments can be really bad. I will do anything (almost) to avoid
them. So I didn’t say anything.
All of
these people lived normal lives but I could never again be one of them. I felt like I was a ghost. I was there; I was even noticed but I could
never be a part of the scene. My arms
were tied behind me. My ears were
plugged so that I could not hear. My
legs were hobbled. With the nun’s habit
arranged around my face, even my peripheral vision was taken away from me. And the people around me knew nothing about
any of this. I could never know them and
they could never know me. The only human
reaction I would ever be allowed to receive from them was their deep
disapproval.
I felt so
very bad and so very sad. This was also
torture and it hurt even more than usual.
* * * *
On another
day X was sentenced to the puppet machine.
When the judges pronounced her sentence, she tried to maintain a brave
expression but the slight tremble of her shoulders and her quivering jaw
betrayed her. She stared at the judge as
the regulations required but her eyes were wide despite her efforts. She bent her head downwards and a small tear
rolled out the side of one eye.
I
unstrapped her ankles. Two other guards
grabbed her arms and helped her up. We
blindfolded her and marched her to the cage.
When we received the word that the machine was ready, we took her out of
the cage, blindfolded her again, and marched her to the punishment area.
We took the
blindfold off her. She took one look at
the machine and collapsed to her knees.
“Oh, no!” She said.
Despite
myself, I couldn’t help thinking what an ingenious device this machine
was. It consisted of a flat system of
beams, wires, and pulleys. Pilings held
it ten feet high. Four ropes hung from
it.
We dragged
her under the machine. The operator
lowered the ropes. We attached the
special cuffs to her wrists and ankles.
These cuffs needed to be soft and wide with sheep hair inside so as to
not damage X when operations began. We
ordered her to raise her hands. We
clipped the cuff on her left wrist to one of the ropes. We clipped the cuff on
her right wrist to another rope. Then we
took her regular handcuffs off. After
attaching the other two ropes to her legs, we took off her leg chains. The head guard asked her, “how do you like
this now, X?” She said, “If I say ‘it’s
okay’, will my nose grow?” I noticed
that though X tried to smile her fear and sadness prevented it. She tried to mask her emotions but she failed
to do that, too.
“You want
to make like Pinocchio?” the head guard said.
“Let’s make you like Pinocchio.”
He waved to
the operator. He pressed some buttons,
moved some levers and the rope attached to X’s right leg started to
retract. With a yelp, X stared at her
leg as it came off the ground and upwards in front of her. She stood there for a moment on her remaining
leg. The operator did his thing with the
controls and presently the other leg was dragged out from under her, too. She hung there for a minute by her arms, with
her back bent towards the ground and her knees in front of her eyes. Then the operator slowly raised her legs and
lowered her arms until she hung by her ankles with her hands just inches above
the ground. She stretched but her
fingers but she just could not get them to the ground.
As her
blood gradually flowed down to her brain, her face showed her agony.
The
operator reversed the ropes. He slowly
lowered her legs and raised her arms.
Presently, X was again hanging by her arms. The next half hour was spent in raising and
lowering arms and legs so that she was either hanging by her arms or upside
down by her legs. X was trying to be
brave but the strain on her body left her softly moaning.
Now that
X’s strength has been weakened, it was time to begin the cartwheel. While hanging by her arms, one of her arms
was lowered. She was left hanging by
just one arm. The pressure on her arm’s
joints caused pain to shoot down in it.
She groaned. At the same time one
of her legs was raised. Presently, she
hung by that one arm and the leg. Then
the arm was lowered. She hung by just
the one leg. That one leg had to hold
the entire weight of the rest of her body.
She groaned and her head turned from side to side. The operator raised the other leg. Now she hung upside down by her legs. The leg was lowered and the other arm was
raised. Now she hung by the one arm (the
other one this time). The other leg was
raised. This process slowly turned her
around and around as if she was on a wheel.
Her worst
suffering was the brutal pressure on an arm or a leg when she hung by just that
one limb. Each time the operator paused
the operation. Sometimes X would raise
her other arm or leg in some desperate attempt to distribute her body weight
over two limbs but since the rope to that limb was slack, she found no
relief. At length, the operator raised
the next arm or leg in the lineup.
An hour
into the torture X fainted for the first time.
We threw water on her face and continued her punishment.
She swung
when we started pushing her body. Since
all she wore was her shorts and her breast strap that meant that we mostly
touched her skin. I was startled when I
first pressed my hands against her hip and her thigh to push her. Her flesh felt warm. I was reminded that this was a person and not
just a toy. That surprised me. It especially surprised me that I realized
that I had been forgetting that. I
wondered what she would have been like if none of this had ever happened.
* * * *
From Orientation
for X.
III. Daily Routine - The Water Chamber: After the exertions of the exercise and the
punishment periods the prisoner’s hygiene needs shall be met by dunking her in
the chamber. The chamber is a vessel
filled with water. It is 4 feet high and
2 feet in radius. After marching prisoner into the chamber area, remove her
blindfold, her shorts, and her breast band.
Reshackle prisoner’s legs. Secure
prisoner’s arms behind her back. Use
brush to soap prisoner’s body. Make her
ascend steps to top of chamber. When she
reaches the platform at the top, push her in.
During the cleaning process, guards may dunk her face under the
water. When finished, pull prisoner out,
clothe and blindfold her, and return her to her cage.
* * * *
The
excursion to the capital had been especially cruel. I could see it in the eyes and the face of
X. It reminded me that this was Maria
Velasquez, that she was now 24 year old, and that she liked to sing and dance.
I couldn’t
help but look at her body as she was being prepared for the chamber. She had been stripped naked. The guards were cuffing her arms behind her
back. The chains had already been put
back on her legs. Her face looked so
tired and sad. Her body was barely able
to hold her up with the punishments and the stress it had received during the
day so far.
I had noted
before that Maria was beautiful. Her
body was thin and short. Now I decided
it was particularly hot. Even now, at
her worst time of the day, one could not help but notice the spirit and
personality that was a part of it and her.
This was a good person. I knew
that if she was to have ever to fallen in love, it would have been totally and
irrevocably.
Because of
the stress that the torments and tortures had put on her body, there was a
silver lining. Her muscles were
developed beyond what one would have expected of a prisoner forced into a
sedentary life. Her legs had slender but
feminine curves. The brown skin of her
thighs had a sheen. Her soft tummy was
flat but not so flat that her ribcage stood out above it with more than a small
outline. Nobody is perfect. Her breasts might be considered a mite too
small but her shoulders, her neck, and her face filled me with erotic desire.
The
sentence to go to the capital had taken me by surprise. This sentence had given me a tremendous opportunity
for the murder. But how could I escape
the aftermath? After the killing came
the problems of disposal and my own fate.
I pondered the elements of this trip.
Then in my mind, something clicked.
In my plan an important piece connecting
those two puzzles fell into place.
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