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 a 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.


