"Justice" is Meted Out
The malefactor,' as Judge Lola had described the slave who had violated the rules, was being led to the prisoner's dock on a leash by his bald, mustachioed, somewhat pudgy master. The master of table 17 didn't seem very imposing in his leather outfit. Number 14 wore the uniform of the day for slaves, or entities` by which they were also called--from collar and leash and ball gag, through tit clamps to cock strap. His gear was the same as mine, meaning he was almost totally nude. He had a smooth, thin, and supple body similar to mine.
As he approached the dock, his head hung in shame. His master helped him up into the dock, and removed the gag.
"Master of table number 17," barked Judge Lola into her microphone. "There's another microphone on the shelf at the dock. Please pick it up and describe to us the infraction the defendant is being charged with."
The pudgy master picked up the microphone. "Thank you your honor... Well, the defendant, 14, scratched its butt while on the floor next to my table. And the slave did so without asking my permission, your honor."
"That slave didn't?... Really?" Judge Lola gasped into her microphone, faking shock, shock at the infraction! She shook her head in a disbelieving manner.
"Yes," the master replied, "14 did your honor, and was flagrant about it"
Addressing the malefactor, Lola asked, "Prisoner what do you have to say for yourself?"
Without lifting his head, the prisoner 14 muttered "nuthin" down into the microphone held toward him by his master." Shoulders slumped as well, 14 was a picture of despondency.
"Nuthin what?" demanded judge Lola, mimicking the slaves tone.
"Errr...nuthin, yer honor," answered number 14.
"Do you plead guilty or not guilty to the charge, 14?"
The head of 14 hung even lower as he mumbled, "I guess I'm guilty yer honor."
"Prisoner 14, you will now be judged by a jury of your peers," Judge Lola said, "pointing her gavel at the two naked and numbered hunks dutifully standing to the side of the her bench.
She waited a few seconds, then asked her jury, "Gentlemen of the jury, how do you find the defendant, 14, guilty or not guilty?"
The jury of two said nothing, but both together simply stretched their right arms straight out, their hands displaying thumbs up; they then slowly twisted their hands to a thumbs down position. The onlooking masters in the audience feigned a loud moan, going along with the act..
"Thank you gentlemen of the jury," Judge Lola said and turned to the defendant. "Number 14, since you have been found guilty, I must pronounce a sentence fitting your heinous crime." She paused thoughtfully, then said, "I am now ready to pronounce your sentence..." She then continued, "In reality, it seems you, 14, were only a foolish accessory to the crime, and not the true perpetrator."
Both master and slave 14 looked at Judge Lola with bewilderment on their faces.
Lola then emphatically pointed down from the bench with her gavel toward the slave's backside, "THAT...,"Lola emphasized in a harsh accusing tone: "THAT...is the real culprit--your bothersome butt that needed scratching... Its demand for scratching coerced you into breaking a cardinal rule of this gala by not asking permission first of your master... I therefore sentence not you, but your butt--hmmm, and a lovely one at that, I might say--to the electric chair!" The audience broke out in loud laughter and cheers. There was also some table thumpers expressing their delight at the sentence.
Lola nodded toward the members of the jury, and they now became her enablers in carrying out the sentence. They went to the closet marked, "Implements of Justice." At first, I didn't recognize the item one of them removed--it was flesh colored though. The jury slave paraded it about the platform, holding it aloft to be viewed by everyone in the audience and be picked up, as well, by the videocams.
I looked at a nearby video screen whose videocam had zoomed in and locked on to the item. Laughter, table thumping, and now some wolf whistling, went up from the audience. The item seemed to have been very familiar to the onlookers; it was a molded product mimicking the lifelike part of a man's abdomen, showing a small part of his lower belly and upper legs. And out from the crotch area of the thing protruded a large, erect synthetic cock. A wound-up electrical chord and what looked like a small control console were dangling from one side of the man-toy. To say the least, it was an impressive gadget. I couldn't help but laugh. Then I caught myself. Glancing at Randy, I hoped he hadn't heard me laughing, since I hadn't asked his permission to do so. But he was laughing himself and clapping as he stared away toward the performers.
The jury slave holding the man-toy placed it on the seat of the wooden chair that was on the platform. The other slave went to the implements closet again and came back with a jar. He coated some of the contents from it on to the synthetic cock so prominent in the man-toy. It was lubrication.
The loudspeakers then began to broadcast the sound of an organ playing the slow, eery tones of the Death March as the guilty slave's master slowly and somberly led him to the chair. Both jury slaves carefully helped lower the defendant on to the waiting prong of the man-toy. Anguish showed on the slave's face as his butt was fully penetrated until he was finally seated in place. Both jury slaves then buckled the defendant's hands and feet to the chair, restraining him in his impaled position.
Next, one of the jury slaves fulfilled the "electric" part of what the electric chair would do. He took one of the leads from the toy and plugged it into an electrical outlet on the floor of the platform. He then handed what must have been the control mechanism for the unit to the other slave. They both then took positions before Judge Lola's bench and waited.
Judge Lola spoke up. "Before the sentence is executed, I must caution the master of 14 that he is responsible for giving the coup de grace during the culmination of the sentence." I knew that coup de grace meant `graceful blow' or the final gunshot to the head of a prisoner shot by firing squad. But I was clueless as to what it would mean in this instance.
Number 14's master nodded that he understood.
"Then let the sentence be carried out," Judge Lola declared in somber finality...
To be continued in Part 10.
Ron Slimman Ronslimman@yahoo.com