A 'Routine' Enslavement

Chapter 36 – The Public Whip Master

One Friday morning I was again summoned with Jeremy to Bud Williamson’s office for a conference about Rachel Green.  I knew that our agency had the previous week received the official assignment from the Court to protect Rachel. 

“Stephanie”, Bud began, “yesterday Rachel turned herself in at the courthouse as directed for her whipping.  By this evening she will have been transported to ‘Morrison Whip Masters Ltd’, where there is to be a large well advertised public whipping of several slaves followed by Rachel’s punishment and an auction of her servitude before a smaller select audience.  As I understand it they may even be auctioning the right to rape Rachel before this select audience.  Naturally I want you to be there to make sure that everything that is done to Rachel stays within the bounds of the law and that she receives proper aftercare.  Since you are new at this, take Jeremy with you.”  

“The reason there is such an entity as a Public Whip Master”, Bud explained, “is that slave owners in Capitallia are not permitted to privately subject their slaves to corporal punishment.  This is one of the provisions of the federal ‘Kinder and Gentler’ slave law.  The concern was that abuses might occur because a slave owner applying such punishments in private might be acting out of anger and might get carried away and impose physical punishments that would cause permanent injury to the slave.”

“But such punishments may be imposed in public?” I asked.

“Yes, if done by a contractor licensed to do such work by the city, county or state.  The idea was to make corporal punishment a profession subject to appropriate standards, controls and supervision.  The second reason, of course, is that by imposing such punishments in a public setting the humiliation of the slave is increased and there is added deterrent value in having members of the general public see what can happen to those who commit crimes.”

“But what if a slave is disobedient?” I said.  “If a slave owner cannot corporally punish wouldn’t that put a serious limit on his ability to secure the desired obedience?”

“Not really”, Bud replied.  “The slave owner has so many other tools available to him for securing obedience in our high tech era.  There are the bio-implants, drugs, mind control technology and post-hypnotic suggestions, just to name a few.  A master who cannot control his slave with all those tools should probably not even be allowed to own a slave.  The tools allow the modern slave owner to strip his slave of free will – so that it then makes no sense to punish a slave for disobedience.  Any failure of the slave to obey is really a failure of the slave owner to properly use the available technology.”

“A slave may be whipped”, Bud continued, “only to punish the original crime for which he or she was enslaved in the first place.  Even then the punishments can only be as specified in the criminal sentencing phase.”

“What about indentured servants?”  I asked.

“Where the indenture is for two years or less it may not be economic for an owner to bear the costs of high tech obedience control.  In that situation the owner may instead elect to control disobedience with the threat of mild public whippings or public humiliation.  In this case the punishment would be for an act of disobedience or for substandard performance on the job, and not for the original offense that got the person indentured.”

That evening Jeremy and I drove over to the facility of “Morrison Whip Masters”.   We had come to the facility one half hour early because we needed to spend some time in the part of the building where Rachel would be prepared for her punishment.   I saw many limos drive up to the main entrance, drop off their occupants and continue to a parking lot to wait for their customers at the end of the evening. 

“Many who enjoy corporal punishments”, Jeremy explained, “would just as soon not be seen or identified as devotees of this form of cruelty.  Limos help provide anonymity.  Others, such as politicians and law enforcement officers, often feel that being seen at these events could actually help their reputations as upholders of the law!”

At the main entrance I saw that attendants were handing out black masks that they passed through the windows of the limos.   Most people emerging from these vehicles were already wearing the masks though a few were not.   We had driven an agency car and Jeremy declined the masks as a valet parked our car.

“The masks”, Jeremy informed me, “add a certain mystique to the occasion and provide some degree of anonymity – or at least the illusion of anonymity.  Also the video cameras the house uses to record the events on stage sometimes catch audience members on tape as well.  The tapes are then automatically computer edited to completely bleep out the face of any person wearing a mask.”

As we entered the building we came to where they were taking tickets.  As Advocates we were just waived through.  The program I was handed showed that three people were to be whipped tonight – Jeff Duncan, Tom Jenkins and Sally Rigers.   It would have been a conflict of interest for me to serve as advocate for any of these three.  I had sentenced the first two and my good friend Edgar owned the third.   Since I was here to protect Rachel I was puzzled that her name was not on the program, but I saw a small note about a Board of Directors meeting in Room B101 at the end of the evening.  I wondered if that was code for the discreet private whipping she would receive before a select audience.

We went to the office and announced ourselves.   A staff member then escorted us to the preparation area on the floor below.  There were a series of curtained off cubicles.  We walked past one where a naked Sally Rigers lay strapped to a hospital type bed, then two more where the two men who were to be punished tonight also lay naked and restrained on similar beds.  As we approached the last cubicle we saw the back of a beautiful black girl who was standing, naked, in front of a man in a white coat who was checking her pulse and listening to her heart.  Her beauty was evident in her posture, her well-defined shoulders, the delicate tracery of her spinal column, the muscular fullness of her buttocks, and in her long slender and muscular legs.  That she was a girl and not yet a woman was evident in that her hips had not fully widened or filled out, and her breasts were just beginning to develop.  She turned upon hearing us approach and I saw that it was Rachel.  She acknowledged us with a weak smile. 

A tall man in a business suit was standing nearby looking at Rachel and the doctor.  Apparently we were just in time to witness Rachel receiving a quick medical exam to see whether she could stand the punishment and the drugs they planned to give her.   The man in the suit turned just then, noticing us, and gave my companion a big smile and slapped him on the back.

“Jeremy, my old nemesis!  What are you doing here tonight?  You are not going to spoil my show tonight I hope!  And who is this lovely lady?”

“Ted, this is Stephanie Glenn, one of our newest advocates.  Your prisoner Rachel Green is actually Stephanie’s assignment.  I am just here to guide her since this is one of her first jobs.”

“Steph, this is Ted Morrison, owner of this establishment.  I have been tangling with him off an on for better than ten years now.”

Just then a nurse came in carrying a report of some kind that she handed to the doctor. 

“These blood results look very good”, the doctor announced, looking at Mr. Morrison.  “I think you have a very fit specimen here Ted, and there should be no problems with her tonight.  Shall I go ahead and inject her?”

“Excuse me Mr. Morrison, but before you inject her with any of your ‘enhancement drugs’ I want to know if you have received any court papers modifying the type of punishment she is to receive?”

“I haven’t seen anything like that cross my desk” Morrison said with some surprise.  “Why – was there an appeal pending on her case?”

“Yes.  We appealed the ‘Level Two Enhanced’ part of her whipping sentence.  We had some faint hope the Tribunal might have issued a ruling in time to save Rachel.”

“Afraid not.  Are you ordering me to not give her the drugs?”

“Can I do that Jeremy?”

“You could issue such an order and they would have to do her whipping without drugs.  But this would be a very bad move for you as a new advocate Steph.  In fact it could open our agency up to a lawsuit for damages.”

“What damages?”

“I’m sure Mr. Morrison here has emailed invitations to the select audience of 100 people promising them a Level Two entertainment tonight.  Probably half of them wouldn’t have come if they thought it was going to be just a standard whipping.  If we spoil the entertainment with our ruling Mr. Morrison might have to refund these people their admission.  And his reputation would suffer.”

“Very well Mr. Morrison”, I said.  “Since the Court has not seen fit to modify the original sentence I guess you are entitled to proceed to prepare her with the drugs in accordance with the sentence of Judge Beemis.”

“Thank you Miss Glenn.  It’s going to be a pleasure working with you”, He said with a gracious smile.

He then turned to the doctor and two nurses who were awaiting his instructions, and spoke to them in a louder and more commanding tone.

“All right folks.  Let’s get her strapped to the bed and start her IV!” Morrison said turning to the doctor and the nurse.

I thought I might be sick at this moment.  I had gone into advocacy hoping to be the protector of vulnerable people like Rachel.  And now I found that I could not protect her.  All because of some bigoted judge and an appeals court that was backlogged with too many cases.  Soon they had Rachel strapped down and were starting her IV.   I did the only thing I could at that moment to help her.  I held her other hand tightly and told her my thoughts would be with her.

“Will it be really bad Miss Glenn?”  Rachel wanted to know.

“Honey I won’t lie to you”, I said.  “It’s going to be a very rough evening but I know you are a girl with a lot of spirit and you will pull through this!”

I gave her hand an extra firm squeeze then caressed her forehead with my other hand.  I then turned to Mr. Morrison.

“Can you not find some way to lessen this girl’s punishment?”  I asked him.

“I’m not a monster, Miss Glenn”, Morrison had turned back to converse with me in a low voice.  “I only carry out the sentences handed down by the courts.  If I didn’t do the punishments they would get somebody else to do them.  The legislature and the courts want these punishments to be administered before the public.  So if I sell tickets and inject a bit of showmanship does that make me a bad person?”

I had no answer to that so I promised Rachel that we would return after her punishment and made my excuses.

As we returned from our visit to the preparation area we again found ourselves in the main lobby.  By now many more people had arrived and I marveled at the numbers.

“Why are these public whippings so well attended?”  I asked him.

“They are very well advertised for one thing”, Jeremy replied.  “The Office of the Public Whip Master is a for profit business which charges admission to the general public so they have every incentive to promote these events and try to get as many people to attend as they possibly can.”

“You mean people who don’t even know the victims just come because they delight in watching total strangers get hurt?”

“That is true for many of them”, Jeremy replied.  “But you should also know that the Whip Master will have sent out engraved invitations to everyone who had any personal or business relationship to any of the victims.  He is required to do this by law and it is surely in his interest as a businessman to do so.  There is a likelihood that each person scheduled for whipping today will have offended certain people in his or her life so these people are even more likely to experience delight on seeing their enemy whipped than would some random citizen.”

We entered the auditorium.  I estimated it would hold about 1000 spectators.  Once inside we found that a special section of six comfortable front row seats had been reserved for Advocates.   Besides Jeremy and myself two other advocates were already seated.   They recognized Jeremy right away and stood to greet us.  Jeremy was quick to make introductions.

“Stephanie, this is Barbara Fox of the Fox Agency”, he said as I held out my hand, “and Roger Stinson of Stinson Associates.  I would like you two to meet Stephanie Glenn, the one Stephanie’s Law was named after!”

They looked duly impressed to meet someone so famous, though I certainly did not feel like any celebrity.  I figured they must represent agencies much smaller than the one I worked for since their names matched their agency’s names.  They were quick to complete the introductions.

“I’m here as Advocate for Ms. Sally Rigers”, Mr. Stinson said, “while Barb Fox is here as Advocate for the two men on the program.  Say those names sound familiar – Tom Jenkins and Jeff Duncan.  I read something about them in the news awhile back, just can’t remember what. “

I decided not to enlighten him or Ms. Fox about my own connection to those two men, as I did not want to influence either of them in any way.   They both had a job to do this evening and I would not interfere.

We took our seats.   I noticed that a couple of scantily attired waitresses were threading their way through the rows of seats taking orders for beer and wine from other patrons, though they did not approach us.  There was a buzz of excitement in the air.  Looking around, I noted that there were almost as many female audience members as there were males.  Just then an assistant manager of the facility came to us and showed us how to use the built in microphones in our armrests should we feel a need to stop the proceedings if we believed there was a violation of a subject’s rights.  He also inquired if he might bring any of us drinks.  We declined.

I saw that there were a dozen or so female prostitutes and a few male prostitutes soliciting in the audience.  It was a well known fact that men often became sexually excited watching these public punishments and would, of course, need sexual relief.  What was not so well known was that some of the women watching these punishments would also need relief.  There was a tier of glassed in private booths at the mezzanine level, comparable to sky booths at a stadium, where male and female prostitutes would take their customers to perform oral sex while the customer could continue to watch the show.  Another detail I noticed was that every seat in the auditorium was equipped with a video monitor.

“What are these for?”  I asked Jeremy.

“Oh, sometimes close-ups of certain things are displayed on the monitors”, he replied.

Just then an announcer’s voice boomed over the public address system.

“We are about to get underway if you public spirited citizens will all take your seats.”

There was good natured laughter at this since everyone knew that probably nobody in attendance had come just to be ‘public spirited’.  Soon everyone was seated and the hall became quiet with anticipation.  The announcer’s voice continued.

“Jason, our official Whip Master of the day, is about to bring all our victims front and center now so that you can all appreciate just who is on the menu today!  Let’s give Jason a warm welcome!”

At this point Jason came on stage.  He made a striking impression – being a tall, slender and muscular fellow clad in a short black leather vest that bared his hard flat abdomen, black boots that came up to mid thigh, and a black spandex codpiece that molded his genitals, leaving little to the imagination.  His muscular buttocks were quite bare.  He made a flamboyant gesture and took a bow.  The audience went wild with applause.

When the applause died down he blew a whistle and three female assistants, wearing black midriff baring vests, black tights and black high heels, frog marched the three victims on stage and lined them up front and center, for audience inspection.  There was an adult female and two adult males just as the program had indicated.  Each of the three victims wore a white T-shirt and tight fitting blue jeans.  Each of these was barefoot.  Jason picked up a waiting microphone and began to address the audience.

“These people”, he began, “were once salaried professionals until they were convicted of felonies and enslaved.” 

What the audience saw was two males – Duncan and Jenkins – who looked very ashamed to be on this stage and tried to cover their faces.  They saw a female – Sally Rigers - who looked angry and hostile.  Her shoulders were tensed, her arms were held in a somewhat raised position with fists clenched, and she was looking somewhere up high on the back wall of the auditorium, well above the heads of the audience. The Whip Master spoke sharply to the males and cracked a whip loudly on the stage floor.  They dropped their hands and stood at attention now.  

“And you Ms. Rigers”, Jason announced, pointing his finger at the female, “better lose your fucking attitude if you hope to get out of here with your ass intact!  For starters unclench those fists and let your arms hang naturally while standing erect and making eye contact with these public spirited folks who have come to see you punished!”

She complied for the most part though she retained a somewhat rebellious facial expression and her shoulders remained tense.

Again there was enthusiastic applause.

“You folks are in for a real treat tonight”, Jason continued.  “First you will see the two males punished in ways that are sexually humiliating beyond anything you have seen on this stage before!  Then, we have saved the best for last.  You will see this attractive and hostile young woman, a convicted perjurer, receive, in addition to sexual humiliation, what is known in the law as a ‘Level Two Enhanced Whipping’.  We have never done one of these in public before.  The purpose of such a punishment is to totally ‘break’ the individual – by causing pain and fear beyond what any human being can bear.  The individual loses all awareness of place and time and loses all control of her vocalizations and her behavior on stage.  You will not only see Miss Rigers lose her attitude but you may well see her age regress to a childlike state. “

Of course there were about 100 people among this audience of 900 or so who knew that they would see yet another ‘Level Two Enhanced Whipping’ of a sixteen year old schoolgirl-prostitute in the much smaller auditorium after most of the other guests had gone home for the night.

“Before we proceed to the main event”, Jason continued, “I should point out that we make every effort to stay in compliance with the law as we administer these court ordered punishments.  Also I must notify you that we have slave advocates with us today to insure that we remain in compliance with law.  They have authority to stop our proceedings at any time if they feel we are going too far.”

There was much audible groaning at this announcement and shouts of ‘Go home!  Leave us to our enjoyments!’

“I would ask that you show proper respect to our advocates.  After all, if it weren’t for them, it would be illegal for us to do what we do here.  They make it possible by assuring the checks and balances the law requires.  Would you folks please stand for a minute so the audience can see who you are?” 

The four of us stood with some reluctance, as we were not eager to be identified as possible targets for retribution in the event we did wind up putting the damper on any part of this evening’s entertainment.

“Let me introduce Barbara Fox of the Fox Agency, Roger Stinson of Stinson Associates, Miss Stephanie Glenn and Jeremy Withers of The Williamson Agency.  Mr. Stinson has been assigned by the Court to protect the rights of the female subject, while Ms. Fox has been assigned to protect the two male subjects.  The two representatives of the Williamson Agency are just here to observe.”

“I want to caution any member of this audience”, the Whip Master continued, “who may not be totally familiar with what happens at a public whipping.  These victims are here today to be hurt and to be humiliated.  They are enslaved felons.  All of them will be stripped – forcibly if need be.  If anyone in the audience is not comfortable with viewing the naked bodies of today’s victims, now would be a very good time to leave.  I will pause now in case anyone is having second thoughts.”

There was some laughter and guffaws at this announcement since everyone here obviously wanted to see the victims stripped naked.  Jason waited a few minutes and when nobody made a move to leave he continued.

“Not one of these individuals”, Jason continued at last, “will leave this stage today until he or she has experienced extreme pain and, in most cases, extreme humiliation.  You may expect to hear screams and pleas for mercy.  For some of you this may be pleasurable to observe and to hear.  These will be the sights and sounds of justice being administered to convicted criminals.  There is a great satisfaction for many of us in seeing such justice exacted.  But for some tender hearted folks who may be in the audience today this may prove distressing.  I would encourage anyone who thinks they might not enjoy today’s performance to leave at this time.”

This time there was silence.  Many people looked around to see if anyone else was leaving.  Only two or three out of the over 900 people in attendance actually left.  He continued his address to the audience.

“Good.  That means those of you who are still with us are prepared to be entertained!  Turn down the house lights and up the stage lights please!”

At this point the stage became brilliantly lit and I became aware that there were several still cameras and video cameras pointing at the stage.

“First I should mention”, Jason continued, “that our proceedings today are being recorded, and that anyone wishing to do so may order still photos and video footage of today’s punishments after the show.  Contact one of our agents in the lobby or go online at Morrison Whip Masters at the web address in your programs.  The second thing I must mention is that most of the whipping will be done with an electric whip.  We use the electric whip because, while it is extremely painful, it leaves no marks and no injuries requiring medical attention.  The pain is caused by powerful involuntary muscular contractions induced throughout the victim from head to toe.  We use high amperage current from our portable generator.  Each victim will totally lose control of his or her own muscles and will end with muscles so cramped that he or she usually will not be able to walk off the stage.”

“What about bladder and bowels?” some fellow in the second row shouted.  “Do they lose control of those too?”

“I am glad you asked!  The answer is we prevent bowel accidents by giving each of them a colonic irrigation just an hour earlier and then by inserting a locking plug in each of their rectums.  Bladder accidents, on the other hand, are inevitable and very much a part of the show!”

Another round of applause.  The Whip Master motioned his assistants to move the line of victims upstage.

“We have a tradition that we like to follow here at Morrison Whip Masters.  Before we begin the full whipping of each victim we like to call on a member of the audience to, as we say, ‘initiate the punishment’ of that victim.  This involves pulling the victim’s pants down and administering a vigorous paddle swat to the victim’s naked buttocks.  It is a ceremonial act that begins the punishment. “

There were murmurs of approval in the audience.

“Assistants, bring forward our first victim.”

They brought forward Duncan, the man who had hired me for my first job at Masterson Automotive, and one of the three who had later conspired to enslave me.  Two female assistants had secured his arms high up behind his back and were frog marching him up to the front of the stage and he was resisting as much as he could.  He looked both scared and angry.  The assistants held him in a vertical standing position facing the audience. 

“Our first entertainment will be Jeff Duncan, a man who was for some time the Human Resources Manager at Masterson Automotive and is currently the enslaved Human Resources Manager at Vixter Enterprises. 

“Mr. Duncan was convicted of “Willfully and Unjustly Taking the Freedom of a Citizen”, a capital offense, but for which he received a sentence of only ten years slavery and regular whippings every three months.   We have Ms. Stephanie Glenn to thank for this part of our show, since she was the one who won the criminal case against him and handed down a sentence that included regular public whippings.  Take a bow Stephanie!”

I stood and briefly waved to the crowd and tried to manage a smile.  They acknowledged me with a round of applause.  Perhaps now they would see me as not just someone who had come to potentially spoil their fun but as someone who had contributed to the evening.

“We have learned that Mr. Duncan is homophobic folks!”

Cheers greeted this announcement as the audience could plainly see where this was going.  I wasn’t at all sure that I liked where this was going.

“Mr. Duncan has both an extreme aversion to homosexual contact and a fear of such contacts.  One of his persistent nightmares is of another man penetrating his back passage. “

More hoots and hollers and obscene comments were shouted.

“For this reason folks”, Jason continued, “we may be able to offer a rather special humiliation today.  Mr. Duncan’s owner, Miss Vixter of Vixter Enterprises, has given her approval for the special punishment you are about to see. 

I turned to Jeremy and asked the question that was on my mind.

“Is this legal?  Can they do this to him?”

“Certainly Steph.  Sexual humiliation is very much an accepted part of what is done by Public Whip Masters.  It is part of every whipping sentence by default – that is unless the person passing sentence specifically excludes it from being a part of the prescribed punishment.  The way to look at it is that the more a prisoner is humiliated the more people will want to come and witness the punishments.  Sexual humiliation sells tickets!  The more people attend the whippings the more word of the wages of crime will filter back into all the communities.  An ever greater number of people will become aware that crime surely does not pay!”

“Do we have a male volunteer for Mr. Duncan’s anal rape?”

At first there was dead silence.  Everyone was looking around to see if anyone would rise to the occasion.  Then a somewhat short but athletic man who had been sitting in the ninth row made his way forward and climbed the steps to the stage.  Like most others today he was wearing a mask.  The audience cheered him on. 

At that moment I wanted to leave the show.  I had no desire to watch a man being anally raped – even if the victim was someone who had victimized me.  But I knew that watching tonight’s punishments was part of my training for my own advocacy work.  I knew too that I had promised Bud Williamson in my job interview that I would be ok with all this.

Jason turned to the volunteer who had come up on stage with a smile and pushed a microphone near him.

“I won’t ask your name sir, but I wonder if you have some special relationship to our victim?”

“Indeed I do.  I went to college with Mr. Duncan twenty years ago and lusted after him then but was utterly rejected in my desires.”

“Well today you are going to get lucky!”  You may begin Duncan’s punishment whenever you are ready sir!”

With that our mystery guest strode up to Jeff Duncan, who was struggling in the grasp of the assistants.  Duncan gave him a dirty look – evidently recognizing his old college classmate.  He began by unbuckling Duncan’s belt and unzipping his jeans.  Soon he was lowering the jeans to mid thigh and pulling down Duncan’s underwear.  A flaccid penis of impressive dimensions came into view along with two sizeable balls in a loose low hanging scrotum.  Those in the first few rows could clearly see this by looking directly at the stage.  Other spectators could see all this in close-up on their in seat monitors. 

I looked away from my monitor.  I did not need to see a close-up of Duncan’s genitals.  I would much rather be looking at the genitals of a man I liked and admired – a man like Bill Steelforth.

Everyone could also see in his or her monitors that Duncan had a penis ring piercing his frenulum.   There was laughter at this because they all knew such rings were used for the humiliating practice of forcing erections and for leading a slave around by his penis.

Jason handed the volunteer an oak paddle about 7 inches wide and two feet long such as is used for fraternity initiations – one which had holes drilled through it to reduce wind resistance.  The volunteer took the paddle and took a couple of practice swats at a nearby padded post provided for that purpose.  He then stepped behind and to one side of Duncan, while the two female assistants continued to hold Duncan’s upper body, and let fly with as forceful a swat to Duncan’s buttocks as he could manage.  The whistling of the paddle through the air could be heard followed by a loud splat when it connected and a cry of pain from Duncan.  Duncan’s penis became partially erect in response.  More audience laughter. 

“Now get him fully stripped, then lead him with this leash”, Jason instructed,  “to that apparatus over there.  I think you will figure out what to do with him once you get him there.”

Our mystery guest pulled the jeans all the way off while the assistants held his upper body, then took a pocketknife and cut off Duncan’s underwear and his t-shirt.  He tossed the remains of Duncan’ briefs out into the audience where some lucky lady grabbed them as a souvenir of today’s show.  He then took the lightweight leash and clipped it to Duncan’s penis ring, using the leash to pull Duncan across to the other side of the stage where there was a stocks like apparatus.  The volunteer forced Duncan to his knees, bent him forward so that his torso was horizontal and his face toward the audience.  Then he secured various straps to hold Duncan in that position and added a neck brace to insure that Duncan would not be able to drop his head or look anywhere but at his audience. 

The volunteer then grabbed hold of the handle of the anus plug in Duncan, gave a twist to unlock it, and slowly eased it out.  A video camera aimed at Duncan’s anus provided a closeup view of this procedure that every person could, if they chose, watch on his or her individual seat monitor.  I found you had to push a button to see this on your screen and I chose not to.

A cart was wheeled out on the stage containing a large generator and control panel.  The Whip Master pulled an evil looking whip off the cart that had a dangling long electrical cord that he plugged into the generator.  Then he flipped some switches on the control panel and we could all hear the whir of the generator starting up.

“As I think you will soon see good people, our volunteer is not a shy man when it comes to pursuing a goal he has had in mind for twenty years!”

With that our mystery guest pulled down his own pants and underwear and began stroking his penis to erection.  He did this openly in full view of the crowd which again began clapping rhythmically   He pulled a tube of lubricant out of his pocket and generously greased his stiffening member. 

“You will be standing on a block of rubber”, Jason announced, “and, as you will not be grounded, will not feel any of the electric jolts we will be administering to him while you take your pleasure in his back passage.   You may begin doing as you will with him!” 

The volunteer took up a position directly behind Duncan and began poking at Duncan’s anus.  I could only directly see that part of him that rose above Duncan’s horizontal back, but I suspected that many who had turned their monitors on were seeing close-ups of all this.

“Don’t use your muscles to deny him entry!”  Jason shouted at Duncan.

“Get away from me you fagot!”  Duncan screamed.

“You are a slave here to be punished Mr. Duncan!” Jason responded.  “You are hardly in a position to tell others what they may or may not do with your body!”

“Fuck off!” Duncan replied.

“I think it is time we gave Mr. Duncan a little ‘attitude adjustment’ don’t you sir.  Please step aside for a moment while I adjust him”

The volunteer stepped aside and let Jason get directly behind Duncan.  Jason reached down and grabbed something.  I had little doubt it was Duncan’s testicles and judging by Duncan’s scream I knew that he was applying painful pressure. 

“Stop!  I can’t stand such pain!  I will do anything you say if only you stop crushing my balls!”

The audience laughed.  Jason maintained his grip.

“Mr. Duncan, I need you to relax the muscles around your anus so that our guest will be able to get his penis inside you!”

The audience could plainly see on Duncan’s face that his will to resist had dissolved.  His anal sphincter had, I assumed, been enlarged by having a series of butt plugs in it to prepare him for this anal rape.  Were this not the case Miss Fox would have objected.  Jason stepped aside and motioned the volunteer to again take up his position and his efforts.

After battering at the gate a few more times the guest was able to effect entry.  This was evident by the smile on his face and the expression of agony on Duncan’s face.  The volunteer began pistoning in and out of the victim.  Duncan began screaming incoherent things and then drooling.  He lost his urine.  His facial expressions became those of a crazed man.  He slumped unconscious.  I became aware that Advocate Barbara Fox, who was seated next to me, had risen and picked up a microphone.

“I think Mr. Duncan has had about enough – at least for now”, Miss Fox announced over the P.A. system.  Reach your climax in the next couple of minutes if you can mystery guest.  For then I must call a halt whether you have climaxed or not and get this man some medical attention.” 

The volunteer pulled out, still hard, and obviously disappointed that he had not been able to bring matters to full fruition.  The assistants unstrapped Mr. Duncan and led him offstage.  As the guest pulled his clothes back on Barbara Fox had one last comment for the disappointed man.

“Perhaps, sir”, she remarked, “Jason will let you finish enjoying Mr. Duncan backstage if the doctor gives a green light.”

The audience cheered its approval.  Jason quickly stepped up to the microphone to keep the show moving along.

“Our next attraction, ladies and gentlemen, is going to be Tom Jenkins, an illegal rapist.

At this announcement there were boos and hisses from the audience.

“Mr. Jenkins was, for over twenty years, manager of accounting at Masterson Automotive Group.  I know that many of you in the audience today knew him in his professional capacity or worked under his supervision over the years.  Let me have a quick show of hands as to how many of you knew Jenkins, either personally or professionally?”

I looked around at this question and saw somewhere between 15 and 20 hands go up.

He was convicted earlier this year of “Willfully Taking the Freedom of a Citizen” and also of “Illegal Rape of a Woman Not Legally Enslaved”.  Ms. Stephanie Glenn was his victim on both counts, so we again have Stephanie to thank for his conviction and whipping sentence and for the entertainment he is going to provide us today!”

The audience gave me another round of excited applause.

“Now Mr. Jenkins has been undergoing a rather unique form of coercive sex therapy which I think many of you will find quite interesting.  Basically it consists of subliminally stimulating his visual cortex with all sorts of different kinds of sexual images and fantasies and then measuring his penile response with a device called a penile plethysmograph.  We thought this process interesting enough that you would all like to see it today.  Special arrangements have been made with the psych lab at Masterson Automotive and we have with us today a Mr. Paul Gregory, Masterson psychologist, and his assistant Denise Benson, a high school senior.  Mr. Gregory will be explaining today’s procedure.  Let us welcome our guests!”

There was a short round of applause as Paul and Denise walked out on stage and bowed to audience.  Paul wore a business suit.  Denise wore the clothes I had seen her wear in the lab - a white starched uniform, consisting of jacket and miniskirt, white nylons and white high heels.  She looked particularly excited at the role she was about to play before all these voyeurs.

“Normally”, Paul began, “we do Mr. Jenkins’ therapy with him strapped down on a horizontal table.  When the plethysmograph shows he is erecting to fantasies we consider unhealthy, Denise normally gives him a painful electric shock to his genitals to recondition his sexual ideation along more healthy channels.  However since this is a whipping center and we are putting on a public performance, we will have Mr. Jenkins positioned differently today and we will punish his inappropriate sexual responses with lashes from the electric whip, causing him painful muscular contractions which you will all be able to see.”

At this Jason signaled his female assistants who brought Tom Jenkins to the front of the stage where they secured his ankles to floor gyves about three feet apart and manacled his wrists above his head to steel cables dropped down from above the stage.  Tom was still wearing the t-shirt and jeans.

“At this time”, Jason announced, “we would like a volunteer to initiate Mr. Jenkins punishment just as we did with the others.  May I have a volunteer please?”

After a brief pause a young woman I recognized as Lacy, a former coworker at Masterson, made her way down an aisle and climbed up on the stage.  I wondered if she had a boob job as her breasts looked firmer than I remembered.  I think she had been working out because her legs looked pretty good in the short shorts she was wearing.

“Would you tell us young lady”, Jason queried, “if there is some special reason why you wanted to do this to Mr. Jenkins?”

“Yes sir.  I worked at Masterson Automotive and this man was my supervisor for several years.   During that time he raped me several times!  So this is about payback!”

“Then don’t let me delay you a moment longer!” Jason responded.

She lost no time unbuckling Jenkins’ belt, unzipping his zipper and shucking his jeans down to mid thigh.  She rolled his t-shirt up well above his waist and then whipped out a pair of scissors and cut his briefs off.  Jenkins private parts were now exposed to the audience.   His penis was flaccid and his balls were hanging low in his scrotum.  There was some hooting and jeering from a few but, on the whole, the audience did not show a lot of reaction, as his parts were not all that exceptional.  Lacy grabbed his balls and squeezed until he gave out a yelp.  This brought some shouts of “you go girl!” from some spectators.

Jason presented her with the ceremonial paddle and suggested she take a few practice swings and then make the real swing count.  Soon we heard the paddle whistling through the air, a loud crack when it landed on Jenkins’ buttocks, and a cry of pain from him.  Lacy took a bow and returned to her seat.  Another round of applause.

While this had been going on Denise had gone backstage and now came back on wheeling an instrumentation cart that she parked a few feet away from the subject.  She picked up the device that I recognized and showed it to the audience.

“What Denise is holding up for you all to see”, Paul Gregory announced, “is a clear plastic sleeve with built in pressure sensors.  She will now place the sleeve over our subject’s penis and adjust it for proper fit.”

Denise had the sense of showmanship to stand to one side of Jenkins as she did this so all could see what she was doing.  Then we saw her tape Jenkins’ eyelids wide open and slip on the virtual reality goggles and the earphones.

“The goggles which the subject now wears”, Paul continued, “are virtual reality goggles that will allow us to project visual images subliminally into the subject’s brain.  He will not be able to block out these images.  You will be able to watch his penis erect on your close-up monitors.  There is also a huge digital display over the stage which will allow you all to see any degree of increased turgidity of his penis which may happen in numerical terms.”

Everyone looked up and saw huge digital numbers that, at the moment, showed the number zero.  Monitors that had been turned off were turning on all around me.  Every monitor showed a close-up of Jenkins flaccid penis and his testicles.  I turned my monitor on for this also as I wanted to see what everyone else was seeing.  At this point Jason turned to the same generator cart that had been used on Duncan and once more we heard the whir of the generator starting up.  Jason was ready to apply discipline at the appropriate moment. 

“I want everyone to know”, Paul continued, “that Denise is very skilled at this work, despite being only a high school senior.  She has brought a lot of enthusiasm and creativity to helping me develop the protocols for Mr. Jenkins!”

“Gee thanks Mr. Gregory”, she said.  I even thought I saw her blush.

“Let us know when you are ready to start Denise”, Paul remarked.

“Can I um – use the rape sequence, Mr. Gregory?”

“I think that should be most satisfactory”, Paul answered.

I noticed that Public Advocate Barbara Fox was again on her feet and holding her microphone.

“Hold on just a moment Jason.  As I understand it you are going to force Mr. Jenkins to watch a rape scene in which he sees himself as the rapist, and you are going to cause a sexual response in him to that?”

“That is correct Miss Fox”, Jason replied.

“My concern is not so much with any punitive stress he may experience now, but with the possibility that you will be setting him up for post-traumatic stress syndrome long after today’s punishment.  I cannot allow that!’

“Miss Fox I am glad you raised this issue.  Be assured that Mr. Jenkins has been given an injection of Traumatholin which will assure that the stressful events of today will not be stored in the part of his brain’s memory where recall of these events later will cause the stress to be experienced all over again.  He will be able to remember everything we did to him today, but the memories of today’s events will be only mildly stressful when they are recalled.”

“In that case you may proceed” Miss Fox announced over the P.A. system.

Everyone watched with interest as Denise pushed some buttons and turned some dials on her control console.  Her excitement was evident in her flushed face and the tension in her body.  The first thing we all noticed – even before we could see any change in the appearance of his dick - was that the digital display numbers started to climb.

“Those numbers climbing shows the blood rushing into his penis”, Denise announced in her high-pitched girlish voice.

Soon after that the audience watched amazed as Tom’s penis grew from the 4 inches it had been in the flaccid state to a rock hard erection a good 9 inches long.  At the same time we all saw on our monitors Tom’s scrotum tighten up drawing his testicles closer to his body.  There were some murmurs of astonishment since nobody had directly stimulated Jenkins in any way.

“Audience please note that the erection you are seeing was brought about entirely through visual stimuli and not through any direct stimulation of the body or the penis of the subject.  If you will all look at the big monitors located around the room”, Paul announced, “you will see the images Denise has chosen to project onto Jenkins’ visual cortex to cause the erection you are seeing.”

What everyone saw on these monitors were scenes of rape with the image of Jenkins himself as the rapist.  I found this hard to watch as it triggered memories of my own rape by Jenkins when I was a slave.

“Mr. Gregory, since this is a show, do you think I could – you know – show them his, um, complete response?”  Denise said with a hopeful expression.

“Normally I don’t like to permit him complete sexual satisfaction when he is fantasizing about rape. But since this is a show and we can punish him for that response with the electric whip, it will be ok to do it today.”

“Gee thanks, Mr. Gregory”.

With that Denise began punching more buttons and turning more dials.  Soon Jenkins began to thrust his hips forward and back in a fucking motion.  The audience broke into rhythmic clapping.  After a few minutes of this Jenkins was shooting out spurts of semen. Denise caught most of it in a paper cup but some of it went all over the stage floor. 

“Jenkins surely needs to be punished for that climax” Paul announced.  “If you would do the honors Jason.”

Up until now Jenkins had only been bared from waist to mid thigh.  Jason now stepped forward and cut off all remaining clothing so that Jenkins was naked from head to foot.  Then he picked up the electric whip and lashed out at Jenkins’ chest, then his arms and shoulders, then his thighs, then his calves.  Everyone could see blue sparks jumping from the whip to Jenkins and the severe rippling and contractions of Jenkins’ musculature from head to toe.  Then he was spun around so that his back was to the audience and Jason lashed him unmercifully first on his back then repeatedly on his buttocks causing severe contractions and rippling visible to the audience.  Jenkins cried out again and again with the pain.

“I promise to never erect on a rape scene again – if only you will stop the whipping!” Jenkins cried out.  This brought howls of laughter because, of course, everyone knew that his erections were not under his volitional control.  The whipping ran its course.

“I think our rapist has had enough.  Assistants please carry him away.”

They cut him down and his legs would not support him.  He had to be carried off on a stretcher.

“At this point we are going to have a 15-minute intermission before proceeding to the final part of our program – the Level Two Enhanced Whipping you have all been waiting for.  There are refreshments and drinks in our lounge and an opportunity for you all to mingle.  Enjoy!”

The house lights came up and at least half the people made their way to the lounge.  Many did not want to miss the opportunity to mingle and make new friends having similar interests in bondage and discipline!

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.

Note to readers, writers and would be writers:  If you are enjoying this story or would even like to contribute a story to the Capitallia universe, author would appreciate hearing from you.  Femdom or maledom stories welcome.  Coaching available for new writers.  Drop an email to dondaverse (at) yahoo (dot) com.