M
montycrusto
Guest
Wouldn’t you rather have a smart ass than a smarting ass?I appear to be surrounded here on this thread by smart asses who are only interested in violence being done to my ass!
-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
BARB’S DYSTOPIAN DOLCETTISH DEMISE
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
twonines
LIMERICUS
Got it in one. A very deserving ass it is too.I appear to be surrounded here on this thread by smart asses who are only interested in violence being done to my ass!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Becoming a pie!
M
montycrusto
Guest
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
In 'Chicken Run', a chicken named Edwina ends up in the cooking pot, because of her low egg production.
This was referring to Edwina Currie, Health Minister in a Thatcher Governement, who had to resign (1988), because of a 'Salmonella in eggs' scandal.
Or learn to fly!
11.
Not long after Paige had been dragged away, a voice from within the interrogation room directly opposite of where Cindy stood waiting against the corridor wall bellowed, “Next! Bring me the next prisoner!”
Two matrons ... the same ones who had dragged Paige away ... returned on the double to unshackle Cindy from the corridor wall and hustle her into the interrogation room.
The room was long and narrow, with whitewashed walls smeared and encrusted in places with what appeared to be dried blood. There were metal rings bolted to the high ceiling, with a length of chain dangling from one of them.
At the far end was a metal desk, behind which sat the interrogator, a bullish-looking man, with a barrel chest, lantern jaw, pug nose, wide-set heavily browed eyes, and a shaved head. Pinned to his shirt was a name tag that read ‘Karl Teufel’.
But what horrified Cindy even more than his threatening appearance was that she recognized him immediately as one of the FNPA riot squad officers who, at the time of her arrest, dragged her into Mrs. Moore’s flower bed and ... along with his pals ... brutally raped and sodomized her!
“You bastard!” she screamed, rushing forward with balled fists.
“Matrons! Restrain the prisoner!” he shouted as he leapt to his feet, knocking over his chair.
Cindy was tackled from behind before she reached him and easily brought down and pinned to the floor by the two brawny matrons.
“String her up,” he sneered, recovering from his surprise.
Cindy was hauled to her feet. Her shackled wrists were raised over her head and secured ... this time to the length of chain dangling from the ceiling. Somewhere an electric motor whined into action, and she was lifted off her feet, kicking, twisting and cursing as she hung by her wrists.
Teufel walked up to her, a look of pure malice on his face. Without a word, he used one hand to hold her still while driving his fist into her taught belly with the other, knocking the wind from her. Then he grabbed her denim cutoffs and panties, tugged them down and off her legs, before tossing them aside. Straightening up, he gripped her firmly by the hips with both hands, and kneed her as hard as he could in the crotch.
Retreating to his desk, he waited patiently for her to stop gasping for breath and jerking about in pain. When she had finally calmed somewhat, he leaned intently forward and said, “Your name, please?”
She stared at him blankly.
He nodded to one of the matrons, who promptly whacked her across the small of the back with a rubber truncheon. After which he waited patiently for her to stop screaming before repeating the request, “you’re name, please?”
“C .... Cin .... Cindy Hauptmann. Pl ... please don’t hit me again.”
“Cooperate then, Ms. Hauptmann. Now for the record, you were a participant in yesterday’s riot, were you not?”
“I was a participant in a peaceful protest yesterday that was brutally and unnecessarily suppressed by the authorities.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Do you know what the penalty is for inciting and participating in an act of civil disobedience is, Ms. Hauptmann?”
She didn’t answer.
“It’s public execution by hanging, Ms. Hauptmann!”
She held her tongue.
“Now tell me, Ms. Hauptmann, if you will, of your relationship with a Hamilton High teacher by the name of Rose Whitaker.”
“Never heard of her ...”
“Matrons! Kindly refresh Ms. Hauptmann’s faulty memory.
For the next several minutes the two matrons took turns beating Cindy with their truncheons, one of them striking her up and down her backside, while the other landed blow after blow across her frontside ... the thud and smack of each blow echoing, along with her screams and pitiful cries for mercy, off the hard concrete and cinder block surfaces of the interrogation room.
When they had finished, Teufel lit a cigar, rose, walked over and grabbed the stricken girl by the chin.
“I asked you whether you knew Rose Whitaker?” he growled, holding the lit end of his cigar threateningly close to the tip of a tumescent nipple.
“Okay, m .... may ... maybe I do ...”
“I think you most definitely do, Ms. Hauptmann. Tell me now, did she or did she not encourage you and your friends to stage that riot?”
“I don’t recall ...”
“You know, Ms. Hauptmann, I should burn your nipples off and have those matrons beat you to death for being so insolent and pigheaded, but I won’t ...and you know why? Because your good friend Paige Deming, who was just in here, sang like a canary ... after a little gentle persuasion ... and fingered you, your friend Barbara Moore, and of course your dear Ms. Whitaker, as prime instigators of yesterday’s riot. You’ll hang for that Ms. Hauptmann, as will your very talkative friend Ms. Deming ... right alongside you ... so the two of you can watch each other swing, if I have any say in the matter. And by rights, your friend Ms. Moore should swing along with you as well, if it weren’t for the fact she already has a date with the roasting pits .... Matrons! Get this stupid cunt down and out of my sight! And then bring me the next prisoner!”
*****************
Rose grimaced as Murphy dug his thumbs deep into the flesh of her ass cheeks, intensifying his grip and holding her in place as he increased the tempo of his thrusts. As the relentless pounding continued, she could feel his balls slapping wildly against the backs of her thighs. With her arms pulled back and her body rocking back and forth, the stress on her strained shoulder sockets was all but unbearable as he drove ever deeper, ever harder, ever faster ... until at long, long last he ejaculated with a grunt and a whoop!
“Whoee! What a ride!” he exclaimed, pulling out. “And you loved it too, didn’t you, Rose!”
Strutting around to face her, he rapped on the mirror as he passed by, shouting, “Hey, Newman! You still back there? Did’ya see me fuck your teacher friend? Want some fun too? Come on in here! You’re welcome to enjoy sloppy seconds, if you like ... haha. Rose is nice and warm and juicy in there! I’m sure she’d love a second go, wouldn’t ya, Rose? Especially from your ole lover boy, Newman, right?”
Seconds later, Newman burst in.
“Shut the fuck up, Murphy. You didn’t have to do that to her!”
“Happens all the time around here, Newman. Lighten up. The invitation’s still good. Or would you prefer to put your dick up her asshole? Bet that’s something she’s never tried! You could be her first!”
“Enough, Murphy. This is sick! Get her down and get back to the interrogation!”
“Sure, sure. Don’t have a cat! Soon as Rose cleans me up,” he grinned, grabbing Rose by the hair and attempting to ram his glistening, cum dripping cock into her mouth.
She shook her head no, but was forced to open her mouth when he pinched her nose. In he went. Her eyes welled with tears, and she gagged.
Newman was about to spring to her rescue. But just then, Spencer strode in and clasped his hand on Newman’s shoulder before he could act.
“Hey, Spence!” crowed Murphy. “Come on in and join the fun. Old Newman here is being a party poop, but Rose is still quite eager.”
“That won’t be necessary, Murphy, ‘cause this session is over. Get your cock back in your pants and get her down. I’ve just come from the Commissioner’s office. We no longer need a statement or a confession from Ms. Whitaker. Seems a couple of her students, held over in the other unit ... a Paige Deming and a Cindy Hauptmann ... have ratted Rose out. As usual, that awful sadist, Karl Teufel, got them to sing. Rose reportedly played an instrumental role, from behind the scenes, in fomenting yesterday’s riot, and the Commissioner has already decreed on the basis of Teufel’s findings, that Rose be publicly whipped, and then held until whether she should also go the gallows is determined.”
**************
The tour of Goose Creek Center’s spit-roasting facility was an eye opener for Barb and company.
They were taken first to the spitting hall, where they were allowed to examine, close up, one of the Center’s ‘Jessica’ spitting machines.
The matron leading their tour explained in detail how a sow was placed onto and secured to the machine. And how the ‘Jessica’ was able to drive the long shiny, uniquely designed spits, made of a special metal alloy, straight through a sow’s body, from cunt to mouth, and do it so slowly and with such precision that a sow would survive her spitting and could be roasted live nearly 96 percent of the time.
“Isn’t that awfully painful?” asked Kristin, her expression wide-eyed.
“No,” replied the matron. “When the time comes you’ll be drugged, and although you’ll feel some discomfort and pain, it will be quite bearable.”
“Well, that’s a relief then, isn’t it?” gushed Kristin, with a little hop and a prance.
“Once a cheerleader, always a cheerleader,” muttered Barb.
From there they were taken to the observation deck high over the roasting pits, where they gazed down on a batch of twenty-four spitted girls rotating slowly over glowing beds of coals. Down on the floor teams of workers moved up and down the four long rows of six roasting pits each, applying basting oils and checking on the roasting progress.
“We process 240 live sows a day here,” boasted the matron. That’s ten batches of 24 each.
By that time, Kristin had fallen silent.
At the end of the tour, they were shown the roasting schedule for the coming year.
Anxiously, Barb ran a finger down the columns of ID numbers until she found those belonging to Unit 2-2.
“Shit!” she moaned. Rotten luck! We’re scheduled for 10 days from now!”
“Not much time to pull my plan together and save our skins,” said Sue, thoughtfully, “but doable. Stick with me girls. You’ll see!”
TO BE CONTINUED
Not long after Paige had been dragged away, a voice from within the interrogation room directly opposite of where Cindy stood waiting against the corridor wall bellowed, “Next! Bring me the next prisoner!”
Two matrons ... the same ones who had dragged Paige away ... returned on the double to unshackle Cindy from the corridor wall and hustle her into the interrogation room.
The room was long and narrow, with whitewashed walls smeared and encrusted in places with what appeared to be dried blood. There were metal rings bolted to the high ceiling, with a length of chain dangling from one of them.
At the far end was a metal desk, behind which sat the interrogator, a bullish-looking man, with a barrel chest, lantern jaw, pug nose, wide-set heavily browed eyes, and a shaved head. Pinned to his shirt was a name tag that read ‘Karl Teufel’.
But what horrified Cindy even more than his threatening appearance was that she recognized him immediately as one of the FNPA riot squad officers who, at the time of her arrest, dragged her into Mrs. Moore’s flower bed and ... along with his pals ... brutally raped and sodomized her!
“You bastard!” she screamed, rushing forward with balled fists.
“Matrons! Restrain the prisoner!” he shouted as he leapt to his feet, knocking over his chair.
Cindy was tackled from behind before she reached him and easily brought down and pinned to the floor by the two brawny matrons.
“String her up,” he sneered, recovering from his surprise.
Cindy was hauled to her feet. Her shackled wrists were raised over her head and secured ... this time to the length of chain dangling from the ceiling. Somewhere an electric motor whined into action, and she was lifted off her feet, kicking, twisting and cursing as she hung by her wrists.
Teufel walked up to her, a look of pure malice on his face. Without a word, he used one hand to hold her still while driving his fist into her taught belly with the other, knocking the wind from her. Then he grabbed her denim cutoffs and panties, tugged them down and off her legs, before tossing them aside. Straightening up, he gripped her firmly by the hips with both hands, and kneed her as hard as he could in the crotch.
Retreating to his desk, he waited patiently for her to stop gasping for breath and jerking about in pain. When she had finally calmed somewhat, he leaned intently forward and said, “Your name, please?”
She stared at him blankly.
He nodded to one of the matrons, who promptly whacked her across the small of the back with a rubber truncheon. After which he waited patiently for her to stop screaming before repeating the request, “you’re name, please?”
“C .... Cin .... Cindy Hauptmann. Pl ... please don’t hit me again.”
“Cooperate then, Ms. Hauptmann. Now for the record, you were a participant in yesterday’s riot, were you not?”
“I was a participant in a peaceful protest yesterday that was brutally and unnecessarily suppressed by the authorities.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Do you know what the penalty is for inciting and participating in an act of civil disobedience is, Ms. Hauptmann?”
She didn’t answer.
“It’s public execution by hanging, Ms. Hauptmann!”
She held her tongue.
“Now tell me, Ms. Hauptmann, if you will, of your relationship with a Hamilton High teacher by the name of Rose Whitaker.”
“Never heard of her ...”
“Matrons! Kindly refresh Ms. Hauptmann’s faulty memory.
For the next several minutes the two matrons took turns beating Cindy with their truncheons, one of them striking her up and down her backside, while the other landed blow after blow across her frontside ... the thud and smack of each blow echoing, along with her screams and pitiful cries for mercy, off the hard concrete and cinder block surfaces of the interrogation room.
When they had finished, Teufel lit a cigar, rose, walked over and grabbed the stricken girl by the chin.
“I asked you whether you knew Rose Whitaker?” he growled, holding the lit end of his cigar threateningly close to the tip of a tumescent nipple.
“Okay, m .... may ... maybe I do ...”
“I think you most definitely do, Ms. Hauptmann. Tell me now, did she or did she not encourage you and your friends to stage that riot?”
“I don’t recall ...”
“You know, Ms. Hauptmann, I should burn your nipples off and have those matrons beat you to death for being so insolent and pigheaded, but I won’t ...and you know why? Because your good friend Paige Deming, who was just in here, sang like a canary ... after a little gentle persuasion ... and fingered you, your friend Barbara Moore, and of course your dear Ms. Whitaker, as prime instigators of yesterday’s riot. You’ll hang for that Ms. Hauptmann, as will your very talkative friend Ms. Deming ... right alongside you ... so the two of you can watch each other swing, if I have any say in the matter. And by rights, your friend Ms. Moore should swing along with you as well, if it weren’t for the fact she already has a date with the roasting pits .... Matrons! Get this stupid cunt down and out of my sight! And then bring me the next prisoner!”
*****************
Rose grimaced as Murphy dug his thumbs deep into the flesh of her ass cheeks, intensifying his grip and holding her in place as he increased the tempo of his thrusts. As the relentless pounding continued, she could feel his balls slapping wildly against the backs of her thighs. With her arms pulled back and her body rocking back and forth, the stress on her strained shoulder sockets was all but unbearable as he drove ever deeper, ever harder, ever faster ... until at long, long last he ejaculated with a grunt and a whoop!
“Whoee! What a ride!” he exclaimed, pulling out. “And you loved it too, didn’t you, Rose!”
Strutting around to face her, he rapped on the mirror as he passed by, shouting, “Hey, Newman! You still back there? Did’ya see me fuck your teacher friend? Want some fun too? Come on in here! You’re welcome to enjoy sloppy seconds, if you like ... haha. Rose is nice and warm and juicy in there! I’m sure she’d love a second go, wouldn’t ya, Rose? Especially from your ole lover boy, Newman, right?”
Seconds later, Newman burst in.
“Shut the fuck up, Murphy. You didn’t have to do that to her!”
“Happens all the time around here, Newman. Lighten up. The invitation’s still good. Or would you prefer to put your dick up her asshole? Bet that’s something she’s never tried! You could be her first!”
“Enough, Murphy. This is sick! Get her down and get back to the interrogation!”
“Sure, sure. Don’t have a cat! Soon as Rose cleans me up,” he grinned, grabbing Rose by the hair and attempting to ram his glistening, cum dripping cock into her mouth.
She shook her head no, but was forced to open her mouth when he pinched her nose. In he went. Her eyes welled with tears, and she gagged.
Newman was about to spring to her rescue. But just then, Spencer strode in and clasped his hand on Newman’s shoulder before he could act.
“Hey, Spence!” crowed Murphy. “Come on in and join the fun. Old Newman here is being a party poop, but Rose is still quite eager.”
“That won’t be necessary, Murphy, ‘cause this session is over. Get your cock back in your pants and get her down. I’ve just come from the Commissioner’s office. We no longer need a statement or a confession from Ms. Whitaker. Seems a couple of her students, held over in the other unit ... a Paige Deming and a Cindy Hauptmann ... have ratted Rose out. As usual, that awful sadist, Karl Teufel, got them to sing. Rose reportedly played an instrumental role, from behind the scenes, in fomenting yesterday’s riot, and the Commissioner has already decreed on the basis of Teufel’s findings, that Rose be publicly whipped, and then held until whether she should also go the gallows is determined.”
**************
The tour of Goose Creek Center’s spit-roasting facility was an eye opener for Barb and company.
They were taken first to the spitting hall, where they were allowed to examine, close up, one of the Center’s ‘Jessica’ spitting machines.
The matron leading their tour explained in detail how a sow was placed onto and secured to the machine. And how the ‘Jessica’ was able to drive the long shiny, uniquely designed spits, made of a special metal alloy, straight through a sow’s body, from cunt to mouth, and do it so slowly and with such precision that a sow would survive her spitting and could be roasted live nearly 96 percent of the time.
“Isn’t that awfully painful?” asked Kristin, her expression wide-eyed.
“No,” replied the matron. “When the time comes you’ll be drugged, and although you’ll feel some discomfort and pain, it will be quite bearable.”
“Well, that’s a relief then, isn’t it?” gushed Kristin, with a little hop and a prance.
“Once a cheerleader, always a cheerleader,” muttered Barb.
From there they were taken to the observation deck high over the roasting pits, where they gazed down on a batch of twenty-four spitted girls rotating slowly over glowing beds of coals. Down on the floor teams of workers moved up and down the four long rows of six roasting pits each, applying basting oils and checking on the roasting progress.
“We process 240 live sows a day here,” boasted the matron. That’s ten batches of 24 each.
By that time, Kristin had fallen silent.
At the end of the tour, they were shown the roasting schedule for the coming year.
Anxiously, Barb ran a finger down the columns of ID numbers until she found those belonging to Unit 2-2.
“Shit!” she moaned. Rotten luck! We’re scheduled for 10 days from now!”
“Not much time to pull my plan together and save our skins,” said Sue, thoughtfully, “but doable. Stick with me girls. You’ll see!”
TO BE CONTINUED
Last edited:
M
montycrusto
Guest
sounds like my bedroom..
I see what you did there, too
classic interrogation technique..
Barb, this chapter was an absolute treat! All three sub-plots get a little update, all of them hot A.F. and well-written as ever. Wow. I would say you were reading my mind... but I know you don't do small print..
twonines
LIMERICUS
You are absolutely correct,the only problem is that Barb is causing us to run out of superlatives !!( Like me you are probably waiting for the appearance of Mr.Fleischer)sounds like my bedroom..
I see what you did there, too
classic interrogation technique..
Barb, this chapter was an absolute treat! All three sub-plots get a little update, all of them hot A.F. and well-written as ever. Wow. I would say you were reading my mind... but I know you don't do small print..
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Despite his offputting appearance, surely a cuddly kitten inside!
It's good to see she learned something from Rose!
Now, is that really necessary? Is there such a backlog of delectable young women that we can't play with Cindy longer? A lot longer? You disappoint me, Barb!
Repeat the above. These women are dangerous, evil criminals. They deserve extensive and intensive questioning!!Oh Goody! I take back some of what I said above.
"Now stay together with the group and don't dawdle. Next we will enter the visitors' center and see a short film on the history of Goose Creek and the life of Stab Bräter, the man whose dreams led to this wonderful place! Afterwards, you may purchase souvenirs in the gift shop."
M
montycrusto
Guest
I hear supplies of superlatives have been held up by corona virus. We’ve already had a “Metzger” character in the story
Migoz2
Senator
No, Barb ! That is so not true*!
*It's not just on this thread, it's the whole of CF!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
That is disgraceful. I'm horrified.
That will have wrecked Mrs Moore's nice flowers.
I bet it was... I fear that more than her eyes will be opened before all's said and done!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Mrs. Moore's flowers deflowered!That is disgraceful. I'm horrified.
That will have wrecked Mrs Moore's nice flowers.
I hope she can file for damage compensation at FNPA!
Migoz2
Senator
She finds herself inspired by her daughter's lead and starts a protest movement of her own: Flowers Need Proper Attention (also FNPA). She's taken out by a SWAT team.Mrs. Moore's flowers deflowered!
I hope she can file for damage compensation at FNPA!
M
montycrusto
Guest
It’s bad enough having one’s daughter dragged away naked and in chains, to be slaughtered for her meat.. but having one’s herbaceous borders ravaged, one’s ajugas squashed and one’s heucheras mangled.. that really is too muchThat will have wrecked Mrs Moore's nice flowers.
Migoz2
Senator
Some people pay good money to have their ajugas squashed and their heucheras mangled.It’s bad enough having one’s daughter dragged away naked and in chains, to be slaughtered for her meat.. but having one’s herbaceous borders ravaged, one’s ajugas squashed and one’s heucheras mangled.. that really is too much
12.
Logo appears on screen:
Fades to a new screen ... dripping blood-red Gothic lettering over a black background, martial music playing:
Fades to live feed and voice over:
“Welcome viewers, to the Judicial Punishment Channel’s live presentation, direct from FNPA’s Goose River Center, of the judicial whipping of Rose Lillian Whitaker. And to guide us on this journey, here he is ... your ever popular Judicial Punishment Channel host ... Guy Wirt!”
(Applause)
“Thank you, thank you! And before we begin, dear viewers, please keep in mind that if you like today’s program and would like to see it again, it can be downloaded for your private viewing pleasure from the platform of our official program corporate sponsor, NailusMartyrs.com.”
(Applause)
“And, before I forget, let’s have a big round of applause for the 150 nice folks who traveled all the way to Goose River and laid down their hard-earned money to be here in our live audience to witness Rose Whitaker get what’s coming to her!”
(Applause)
“Now, before we move on to the main event, I’d like to introduce our viewers and live audience to three gentlemen, the first of which is Major Dominic Straf, FNPA Commissioner of the Punishments and Executions Unit here at Goose Creek. Welcome, Major Straf!”
(Applause)
“Thank you, Guy, it’s my pleasure to be on the show.”
“Major, perhaps you wouldn’t mind sharing a little background information on Ms. Whitaker. Who exactly is she, and why has she been sentenced to a public flogging today?”
“Sure. No problem, Guy. Ms. Rose Lillian Whitaker is a thirty-one year old teacher, who, until recently, was on the staff of Hamilton High, where she taught American history and government. Ms. Whitaker has been sentenced to 40 lashes today as punishment for her role in the ‘Cull Day’ riot that took place earlier this week over the FNPA procurement of Ms. Barbara Moore, one of Whitaker’s former students.”
“I see, isn’t rioting a capital offense, Major? Why is Ms. Whitaker getting off with a mere flogging.”
“Well, you see, Guy. Rose Whitaker didn’t actually take part in the riot. What she is guilty of is planting the crazy idea in the minds of her students of staging a protest against the annual FNPA cull. So, for that lesser crime, she is has been ordered to face a public administration of corporal punishment today. Now, mind you, that might not be the end of it for our Ms. Whitaker. She will continue to be held at Goose River, following her flogging today, pending a final decision on whether the level of encouragement she gave to her students was sufficient enough to technically make her a rioter in absentia. If that verdict comes down, as I suspect it will, Ms. Whitaker will be taken to the gallows and executed along with the other rioters.”
“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see then! Now one more thing, Major, if you don’t mind. Could you please explain to our viewers and live audience how this works. Exactly how will Rose Whitaker be flogged?”
“Certainly, Guy. When she is brought out here, which should happen shortly, she will be stripped naked and spreadeagled between the two vertical posts that you see over there. You’ll notice that attached to the posts on chains are four cuffs, two near the tops for shackling her wrists and two near the bottoms to restrain her ankles. Now mind you, she won’t be spreadeagled so tightly that she can’t move, of course, just tightly enough to keep her in place. We want her to move with the lashes. You’ll also notice that the two vertical posts are set on a round table, which allows us to turn her completely around halfway through her flogging. In other words, she will receive half her lashes on her backside and the other half on her front side.”
“And who will do the whipping?”
“Oh, that is completely automated these days, Guy. That squat-looking machine that you see over there, just off to one side, is a ‘Jessica RD2’ whipper ... a truly amazing piece of engineering. It delivers whip lashes, using a specially designed nylon filament whip, and can be programmed to deliver each individual lash at a pre-determined velocity and from a full range of angles, for special effect. The strokes can also be precisely targeted.”
“Impressive! Thank, you Major.”
(Applause)
“Now my second guest is FNPA Special Interrogator, Sergeant Karl Teufel.”
(Applause)
“Sergeant Teufel, it’s my understanding that you were the one to break open the case against Rose Whitaker. Would you mind telling us about that?”
“Um ... yes, I was the one who did that. It was simple really. I just persuaded two of her former students to rat on Ms. Whitaker.”
“And who are these two girls and where are they now?”
“Their names are Cindy Hauptmann and Paige Deming. Right now they are sitting on Death Row. They have been sentenced to be hanged, along with over a hundred other arrested rioters in about a week’s time. And, as a personal note, I think it only fitting that Ms. Whitaker should hang with them, but that’s for others to decide.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. And I want to remind our viewers that the mass hanging of the July 10th rioters will be covered live here on the Judicial Punishment Channel with yours truly hosting the event. So watch the listings for an announcement of the date and time.”
(Applause)
“And now my final guest is someone randomly chosen from our live audience. Would you welcome please this very fine young man, Joey Farnsworth!”
(Applause)
“Well, Joey, I see you are wearing a tee that says ‘Hamilton High’ on it. I’m guessing you’re here today because you know Ms. Whitaker. Did you take a class from her?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”
“So, did you learn a lot from her? Was she a good teacher?”
“Not especially. I only took her elective course on the emancipated American woman because it was the last quarter before I graduated and didn’t matter, and because my girl, Barbara Moore, and her friends, Cindy and Paige, were taking the class.”
“Is that the same Cindy and Paige just mentioned by Sergeant Teufel?”
“Yep.”
“Wow, so you knew Barbara Moore, the girl who’s FNPA culling was the cause of the riot?”
“Yeah, me and Barb were close ... umm ... lovers actually.”
“Really! What was it like to be her lover?”
“Pretty swell. I mean she really put out, if ya know what I mean. All ya had to do was get her and her tight little ass alone in the back seat of a car, and before ya knew it she’d be stripping down to nothing and be all over ya, begging ya to fuck her hot little pussy. And boy, could Barb suck ya off too. For her it was an art form, let me tell ya!”
“I see. And Paige and Cindy?”
“Just as hot. They wanted me too, of course, but I was Barb’s go-to guy.”
“So, why are you here today, Joey?”
“Well, I couldn’t miss the chance to see Ms. Whitaker naked, of course. Who wouldn’t? And to see her whipped is an added bonus. The bitch gave me a lousy ‘D-‘ grade in her class.”
“Will you be looking for anything special, Joey?”
“Sure. Me and the guys at Hamilton always thought that ... ‘Hot Rosie’ ... that’s what we called her ... had the perfect ass! Just the right shape and fullness, if ya know what I mean? So, I’m going to especially be watching to see how those sweet luscious half-moon cheeks bounce, quiver, ripple and shake with each and every stroke of the whip. Who wouldn’t?”
“Umm ... yes ... okay, Joey. Thanks for sharing that, and enjoy the show!”
(Applause)
“Alright viewers, I see that they are bringing Ms. Whitaker out now. It’s nearly time for the show to begin. She is being escorted to center stage by a pair of FNPA matrons, and is wearing a standard-issue orange tee ... that, as you can see, is way too short to cover much down there ... not that it matters, because the matrons just removed it and are securing Ms. Whitaker ... let’s just call her, Rose, shall we? ... to the two posts ... in precisely the manner Major Straf described. And now the whipping machine is being rolled into position!”
“So viewers and live audience, we’re going to pause briefly now for station identification and a commercial break. But don’t go away, ‘cause you won’t want to miss a minute of the whipping of Ms. Rose Lillian Whitaker, ex-Hamilton High School teacher and leader of what’s now being billed as the worst ‘Cull Day’ riot in FNPA history!”
(Applause)
TO BE CONTINUED
Logo appears on screen:
Seal of the Federal Nutrition Procurement Agency (FNPA) superimposed over a red, white and blue background.
Fades to a new screen ... dripping blood-red Gothic lettering over a black background, martial music playing:
FNPA Presents:
The Judicial Corporal Punishment
of Rose Lillian Whitaker
10 July 2052
Extreme Content
Adult Viewing Only
The Judicial Corporal Punishment
of Rose Lillian Whitaker
10 July 2052
Extreme Content
Adult Viewing Only
Fades to live feed and voice over:
“Welcome viewers, to the Judicial Punishment Channel’s live presentation, direct from FNPA’s Goose River Center, of the judicial whipping of Rose Lillian Whitaker. And to guide us on this journey, here he is ... your ever popular Judicial Punishment Channel host ... Guy Wirt!”
(Applause)
“Thank you, thank you! And before we begin, dear viewers, please keep in mind that if you like today’s program and would like to see it again, it can be downloaded for your private viewing pleasure from the platform of our official program corporate sponsor, NailusMartyrs.com.”
(Applause)
“And, before I forget, let’s have a big round of applause for the 150 nice folks who traveled all the way to Goose River and laid down their hard-earned money to be here in our live audience to witness Rose Whitaker get what’s coming to her!”
(Applause)
“Now, before we move on to the main event, I’d like to introduce our viewers and live audience to three gentlemen, the first of which is Major Dominic Straf, FNPA Commissioner of the Punishments and Executions Unit here at Goose Creek. Welcome, Major Straf!”
(Applause)
“Thank you, Guy, it’s my pleasure to be on the show.”
“Major, perhaps you wouldn’t mind sharing a little background information on Ms. Whitaker. Who exactly is she, and why has she been sentenced to a public flogging today?”
“Sure. No problem, Guy. Ms. Rose Lillian Whitaker is a thirty-one year old teacher, who, until recently, was on the staff of Hamilton High, where she taught American history and government. Ms. Whitaker has been sentenced to 40 lashes today as punishment for her role in the ‘Cull Day’ riot that took place earlier this week over the FNPA procurement of Ms. Barbara Moore, one of Whitaker’s former students.”
“I see, isn’t rioting a capital offense, Major? Why is Ms. Whitaker getting off with a mere flogging.”
“Well, you see, Guy. Rose Whitaker didn’t actually take part in the riot. What she is guilty of is planting the crazy idea in the minds of her students of staging a protest against the annual FNPA cull. So, for that lesser crime, she is has been ordered to face a public administration of corporal punishment today. Now, mind you, that might not be the end of it for our Ms. Whitaker. She will continue to be held at Goose River, following her flogging today, pending a final decision on whether the level of encouragement she gave to her students was sufficient enough to technically make her a rioter in absentia. If that verdict comes down, as I suspect it will, Ms. Whitaker will be taken to the gallows and executed along with the other rioters.”
“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see then! Now one more thing, Major, if you don’t mind. Could you please explain to our viewers and live audience how this works. Exactly how will Rose Whitaker be flogged?”
“Certainly, Guy. When she is brought out here, which should happen shortly, she will be stripped naked and spreadeagled between the two vertical posts that you see over there. You’ll notice that attached to the posts on chains are four cuffs, two near the tops for shackling her wrists and two near the bottoms to restrain her ankles. Now mind you, she won’t be spreadeagled so tightly that she can’t move, of course, just tightly enough to keep her in place. We want her to move with the lashes. You’ll also notice that the two vertical posts are set on a round table, which allows us to turn her completely around halfway through her flogging. In other words, she will receive half her lashes on her backside and the other half on her front side.”
“And who will do the whipping?”
“Oh, that is completely automated these days, Guy. That squat-looking machine that you see over there, just off to one side, is a ‘Jessica RD2’ whipper ... a truly amazing piece of engineering. It delivers whip lashes, using a specially designed nylon filament whip, and can be programmed to deliver each individual lash at a pre-determined velocity and from a full range of angles, for special effect. The strokes can also be precisely targeted.”
“Impressive! Thank, you Major.”
(Applause)
“Now my second guest is FNPA Special Interrogator, Sergeant Karl Teufel.”
(Applause)
“Sergeant Teufel, it’s my understanding that you were the one to break open the case against Rose Whitaker. Would you mind telling us about that?”
“Um ... yes, I was the one who did that. It was simple really. I just persuaded two of her former students to rat on Ms. Whitaker.”
“And who are these two girls and where are they now?”
“Their names are Cindy Hauptmann and Paige Deming. Right now they are sitting on Death Row. They have been sentenced to be hanged, along with over a hundred other arrested rioters in about a week’s time. And, as a personal note, I think it only fitting that Ms. Whitaker should hang with them, but that’s for others to decide.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. And I want to remind our viewers that the mass hanging of the July 10th rioters will be covered live here on the Judicial Punishment Channel with yours truly hosting the event. So watch the listings for an announcement of the date and time.”
(Applause)
“And now my final guest is someone randomly chosen from our live audience. Would you welcome please this very fine young man, Joey Farnsworth!”
(Applause)
“Well, Joey, I see you are wearing a tee that says ‘Hamilton High’ on it. I’m guessing you’re here today because you know Ms. Whitaker. Did you take a class from her?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”
“So, did you learn a lot from her? Was she a good teacher?”
“Not especially. I only took her elective course on the emancipated American woman because it was the last quarter before I graduated and didn’t matter, and because my girl, Barbara Moore, and her friends, Cindy and Paige, were taking the class.”
“Is that the same Cindy and Paige just mentioned by Sergeant Teufel?”
“Yep.”
“Wow, so you knew Barbara Moore, the girl who’s FNPA culling was the cause of the riot?”
“Yeah, me and Barb were close ... umm ... lovers actually.”
“Really! What was it like to be her lover?”
“Pretty swell. I mean she really put out, if ya know what I mean. All ya had to do was get her and her tight little ass alone in the back seat of a car, and before ya knew it she’d be stripping down to nothing and be all over ya, begging ya to fuck her hot little pussy. And boy, could Barb suck ya off too. For her it was an art form, let me tell ya!”
“I see. And Paige and Cindy?”
“Just as hot. They wanted me too, of course, but I was Barb’s go-to guy.”
“So, why are you here today, Joey?”
“Well, I couldn’t miss the chance to see Ms. Whitaker naked, of course. Who wouldn’t? And to see her whipped is an added bonus. The bitch gave me a lousy ‘D-‘ grade in her class.”
“Will you be looking for anything special, Joey?”
“Sure. Me and the guys at Hamilton always thought that ... ‘Hot Rosie’ ... that’s what we called her ... had the perfect ass! Just the right shape and fullness, if ya know what I mean? So, I’m going to especially be watching to see how those sweet luscious half-moon cheeks bounce, quiver, ripple and shake with each and every stroke of the whip. Who wouldn’t?”
“Umm ... yes ... okay, Joey. Thanks for sharing that, and enjoy the show!”
(Applause)
“Alright viewers, I see that they are bringing Ms. Whitaker out now. It’s nearly time for the show to begin. She is being escorted to center stage by a pair of FNPA matrons, and is wearing a standard-issue orange tee ... that, as you can see, is way too short to cover much down there ... not that it matters, because the matrons just removed it and are securing Ms. Whitaker ... let’s just call her, Rose, shall we? ... to the two posts ... in precisely the manner Major Straf described. And now the whipping machine is being rolled into position!”
“So viewers and live audience, we’re going to pause briefly now for station identification and a commercial break. But don’t go away, ‘cause you won’t want to miss a minute of the whipping of Ms. Rose Lillian Whitaker, ex-Hamilton High School teacher and leader of what’s now being billed as the worst ‘Cull Day’ riot in FNPA history!”
(Applause)
TO BE CONTINUED
Last edited:
M
montycrusto
Guest
He was Karl Teufel a few minutes ago..
Anyway - a superb chapter @Barbaria1 .. I never saw The Hunger Games but I believe there was some sort of game-show host narrating it like this.. and it recalls the creepy guy from Mad Max 3 who introduced the Thunderdome contestants.. and Max Quordlepleen who commentated on the End of the Universe for the entertainment of viewers, in the Hitch-hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.. what I’m trying to say is, this is totally great, wonderfully entertaining, and never was a tongue more delightfully wedged in a cheek.
