An 'X'mas Carol Part Two, Chapter 8

An 'X'mas Carol Part Two, Chapter 8
By Jaech Reiter
jaech_reiter@yahoo.co.uk

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Part Two, Chapter 8

Saturday morning and Ben woke with a fearful start.

No.

He looked underneath the single sheet he had been allowed overnight. It wasn't a nightmare.

Well, it was a nightmare, but it was also true. He looked at his alarm clock and let his memory flood back in, including the instructions he had received last night. At some point in the night his door had been opened wide. His mother had at first ordered it closed when she had sent him to his room, but then also told him that Saturday (which was now 'today'), before they left out for the early morning work at the Winter Carnival in Gargery Park, he would help her take the door off its hinges; and it would stay off its hinges for a month. He also had to leave the bathroom door open whenever he used the facilities for the next week – for whatever reason he needed to go. The same went for any stall doors or port-a-potty doors in public restrooms or at the Carnival.

That last thought alone was enough to get him out of bed and move his bowels before anyone else awoke. Pissing and showering in front of others was also not on his hot list of things he wanted to do, and last night he finally had to piss in the shower, when Fran wouldn't quit watching his failed attempt to get his thing down enough to pee. 2 ½ inches wasn't a whole lot when hard, but when it was hard, you still weren't getting your piss anywhere near the toilet. And even when he got in the shower just to pee, she watched him (just to freak him out); and it still took another 5 minutes to get it going. His bladder was locked up in fear and embarrassment.

But the thought of having to take a dump in front of anyone, that was just way, way too gross. So he took advantage of waking ten minutes before the alarm to get his dirty business done, which was good timing. No sooner had he wiped up with the diaper wipes – just to be sure that everything that would be possibly on view was totally clean {shiver at the thought} – and flushed, than the doors to both his sister's room and his mom's room opened. It was show time.

The first order of the day was taking his door off its hinges and taking it out to the garage.

"You know, you're stronger than you look, Ben." She was in a much better mood this morning. Oh, she was still pissed and angry with him, but she had it compartmentalized better. She was looking at him and treating him much more objectively today.

Ben noticed, as well, and not for the first time, that despite losing muscle mass and height – and obviously testosterone – that he had kept all his strength. He wasn't sure why on that point. Another odd thing was that though he was fairly sure he had lost an inch and a half in height, all his clothes still fit the same way. It was as though they shrank with him. Just further proof to everyone that he had never been developed; he was just all lies and hot air. He hated that. Only Tim actually knew the truth.

So now he had no doorway, and with that came the instructions that anytime he dressed or undressed for the next month, he would do so in the middle of his room, no matter who was in the house. Girls still weren't allowed in his room without his sister present (even though his mom looked down at his small pecker and raised her eyebrows, wondering if that was even a necessary rule), but anyone could watch from his doorway, at any time, for any reason. Also, he was not allowed to forbid entry to his brother or sister, or their guests, or request that they leave, unless he was doing homework during specified homework times.

A few other rules went down as he ate breakfast, and Ben dutifully said 'yes, ma'am' to each of them, slowly chewing through his food, not enjoying any of it. It was pancakes this morning for everyone. Pancakes with imitation syrup. When his mom finished, he was still looking at the Tesco brand syrup.

"Ben, are you actually listening to what I say, or not?"

He thought about all the times she took the blame for when things didn't work out because of his father, all the work she had to do, and feeling somewhat guilty over all that, managed to smile, and say yes'ma'am again, including repeating mostly everything back to her.

"I don't have a problem with it." He told her at the end of it.

It was a total lie. He had the HUGEST problem with every single bit of it. But he had seen what happened to Kyle when he bucked the system. And that was just the Human system. There was a whole 'nother spirit thing going on in Ben's case. And one look down into his lap told him what they could do if he bucked THEIR system. He really needed his nuts back. He couldn't afford to not do this their way.

She wasn't buying his accordance, however, and gave him the look that said so.

"Honest mom," he said with a bit more frustration in his tone than he was supposed to be allowed, "I get it. I understand. I'm not fighting this. I hate it, but it's no problem. I can do it."

The really bad sign was that he could already feel himself getting worn down. And it was only 5:30 in the morning.

This wasn't good.

His mom had made arrangements with the Carnival staff that he would come in by six to start working to help set up the merchant part of the Carnival. She would help as well, but she had further told the staff there, that his six hours of court mandated time didn't start until that afternoon, when the rides and funfare opened, and when more kids his age would be about. Fran came along, even though she didn't have to, because she thought it could be fun. It wasn't. All Ben did was work – and he worked hard. There wasn't much to tease him about, because even though all the ladies working there would look, laugh, and want to discuss this cute naked boy doing work for them, they were actually too busy. In a very short while, no one noticed he was naked. Except Ben.

However, it was almost restful for Ben, the work; except that it was leaving him feeling quite physically tired and in need of a nap already. He didn't realize it, but it was a really a combination of his socio-emotional trauma, his uncertainty, and his body adjusting to the lack of testosterone that really made him tired. For her part, Charlotte didn't really mind this early morning as much, as she practically never got to do any volunteer or charity work. And the County proceeds (above operating costs) were going to the local youth home. It was actually refreshing for her.

Around ten in the morning, when business was booming, thanks to visitors from surrounding counties. Charlotte was done for the day, and took Ben and Fran home to wake up Tim and get everyone down to the court. Fran was miffed, however, that she STILL didn't get the front seat. She thought Ben was supposed to be in punishment!

She didn't realize that sitting naked to his mom for the whole car ride was excruciating for the boy. Charlotte did realize this. Ben would have given anything to actually trade with Tim in the back. It was just that his mom had already warned him that that was where he was riding. Up front. No arguments.

"That was so boring." Fran complained about the morning from the backseat.

"Well you didn't have to be there," Ben snapped back.

"That's enough! Both of you, don't even start. And you, Ben, you will apologize sincerely to your sister---"

"What?? No way, she didn't have to---"

"You will apologize sincerely to your sister and thank her for coming to keep an eye on you."

Ben just turned and stared out the window. This whole thing was completely unbalanced and unfair to start with, but this part really was unfair.

"And," his mom continued, "Apparently we need to talk to the judge about what we can do to work on that attitude for the rest of today. And maybe we need some of those extra underwear-only days to transition you back."

"Mom, no! Please! I'm just . . . . no please, I'm just tired . . . . I . . ."

"It will not be for you to decide." She was back to being pissed.

Ben sighed and rested his head back on the seat. This was just so draining being naked all the time. He just needed a recharge from somewhere. He couldn't take a whole day of this.

But he had to. He had to figure out how to. Except the whole time he was sitting there trying to collect his thoughts, about 70% of his mind and consciousness was still focused on the fact that he was sitting there in a car, out in public, and right next to his mom butt naked, and there was absolutely NOTHING he could do about covering up his genitals that were just there, right there, right there out in the open for anyone, especially his mom, to just casually look over and see. Which she did from time to time, just to unsettle him further. And even worse, they were SO FUCKING SMALL now.

Arrrgghh.

How was he supposed to be able to function like this???

Ben opened his eyes and took another deep breath, trying to control his voice to a neutral and said, "I'm . . . . I'm sorry Fran . . . . for saying you shouldn't have or didn't have to come with us. . . . . Thank you for coming and keeping an eye on me."

"Too little, too late," she snapped back, not even bothering to look at him. Charlotte gave her a look in the mirror though.

When they arrived home, Charlotte sent Ben in to get Tim up and start getting him ready for the day. After he left she turned to Fran and told her,

"I don't want to say this in front of your brother, but if you start getting an attitude as well, you will join him as a Nudie Juvie. Do you understand?"

"Mom! He was---"

"Apparently we need to talk to the judge about you, as well, because you don't seem to understand what it means that I'm the parent."

All the color drained from Fran's face. She couldn't do that. She couldn't be . . . . . nude . . . . . in front of everyone!! In front of boys!! In front of those other girls that were mean to her!!

"I'm sorry, mom. I'll be more careful." She said in a very scared and quiet tone. And as respectful as she could make it.

"Better. But the next time may not be a warning. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am." Oh she got it. Mom was pissed, and the fallout would be non-discriminatory. Just one more reason for Fran to be pissed at her brother.

After getting Tim up and ready to go, Ben was desperately wanting a nap, but Charlotte wasn't having it. They had an 11:30 court appointment, and the whole family was going.

"Mom," Ben thought about this carefully, as carefully as his tired mind would let him. He didn't want to set her off any further, but he was at a loss why they were going back to the court, and on a Saturday. "Judge Breese is away on a fishing trip. He told us yesterday he was leaving after lunch. He won't be there."

"I know. Judge Krum is filling in for him and asked us to come in."

"May I ask why?"

"No."

OK, then. That settled that.

This time they waited in the antechamber by themselves. Another family was in talking with the judge, except that they didn't come out when the Judge's assistant came out to get the Scruggs. When Ben walked in, he saw who the other family was.

It was the Marleys. Mr. and Mrs. Marley were there, along with Ben's 13-year-old best friend, Jacob, who was still just wearing underwear, and Jacob's 11-yearold little brother, Sam. And Sam Marley looked to be some unsettling combination of pissed and pleased. He tried to look Ben in the eye when he came in, but he was distracted by actually seeing Ben naked for the first time. That was when the look on Sam's face went to somewhere between confusion and disgust. This, he was thinking, this was all that his brother's supposedly hot-shot best friend had to offer? The limp penis looked to be only an inch, and the balls only suggested the barest entry into pubescence.

"I'm even bigger than you are," Sam said with revulsion for the disappointing bully. "A lot bigger. You're just pathetic."

Ben was shot to the core. It was a dismal accusation, and one he certainly couldn't counter. Nobody said anything to Sam.

"This is what you get for being a bully," was all his mother said when they turned and faced the judge.

"The court thanks the Scruggs family for returning on a Saturday. As Benjamin Scruggs' original sentence only extended through to tomorrow morning, I felt it wise to take care of this matter this morning. The original sentence does still stand in its original length. However an issue has come up, and Judge Breese is not available for comment. The family of one of your victims has filed an appeal on the leniency granted you by a forbearance of your induction. They wish for you to go through the induction as is proper."

Induction?

Ben thought his legs were about to fall out from under him. He remembered hearing the cries from that older and tougher looking boy yesterday. If they broke that boy down so quickly, and yet still went on an on spanking him mercilessly, in Ben's mind at least, then what would it do to him? It would be like all the pain of his life delivered in minutes. Very very long minutes. He was almost sure he would faint again.

To be sure, his family had had another face to face with the Prentiss girl, just like her father said they would, only she was wide eyed, fearful, snot residue on her face, tears streaming down endlessly . . . . Ben cringed at the memory. They wouldn't go any easier on him.

What brought this on? He wondered. He had no way of knowing at that moment that it had been the Prentiss girl. In relating how horrible and unfair it was to her own friends at St. George's Prep, the ones that weren't laughing at her shamed nakedness, Sam had overheard that Ben was also sentenced to NUDEP, except that the judge didn't make him go through the induction. Sam complained to his father when he got home from school, and Mr. Marley, agreeing with his son, especially as the Marley's blamed Ben for leading Jacob astray, called up the court and filed a motion to redress the issue.

Judge Breese would have dismissed the motion. He wasn't much up on others challenging his wisdom. But Krum wasn't as familiar with the intents and subtleties of the program. She only knew the letter of the law. And she felt that the Marleys had a valid complaint.

"So without being able to have Judge Breese weigh in," she continued after recapping the issue, "I am ruling in favor of the Marley petition and reinstating the induction effective immediately."

"No! Judge Breese said-"

"Little boy," Krum said, stressing the word 'little,' which got a small laugh from Fran and Sam both, "You do not run this court! I already explained that Judge Breese is unavailable for comment."

"But, Mr. Trent, at the Old Curiosity Shop, he knows where Judge Breese is! He can call---"

"The court does not use private citizens to elicit responses from its own judges. Judge Breese is unavailable, end of story. Any further arguing from you and I will increase the time of your sentence, perhaps even the level."

That shut him up. He was inordinately scared of the paddling that came with the induction, but scared even more of any elevation of his punishment. He kept remembering Kyle.

"Your honor," Calvin Marley, Jacob and Sam's dad spoke up, "Will Sam be allowed to watch the induction? I think it only fitting, given the bullying he has had to endure."

"No, Mr. Marley. The law is quite clear. For a Level Zero, only family members, the Bailiff and the court appointed Inductor will be present." The Judge told him, and then turned to Charlotte to say, "And Ms. Scruggs, I remind you that ALL family members are to be present."

The judge meant 'Mr. Scruggs' as well. But what Ben heard was that meant Tim. And though his heart went out for his mom as she had to publicly explain that Mr. Scruggs was not in the picture, in any sense of the word, Ben's fear went out to Tim. Tim would freak out having to half to watch that. He wouldn't be able to take it. And his mom wasn't seeming to clue into that.

"Mom, Tim can't---" Ben started to whisper to her but was cut off by Krum.

"Silence! The Offender only speaks when spoken to or given leave to speak."

"But Your Honor, my brother---"

'WHAM!!' The gavel hit the sound board hard. Judge Krum did not come in on a Saturday to argue with juvenile offenders. She didn't even particularly like kids. She didn't hate them, but she didn't like them either. This is why Juvenile Law and Family Court were just not her thing.

"Another word out of you, and I WILL elevate you to a Level One. As it is, I will have your lack of respect transmitted to the Court Inductor."

Holy shit! They were going to spank him even harder?? Ben's legs were wobbly and threatening to give out at any moment. But even as he felt the cold sweat of fear running rampant across his body, he saw the growing worry in Tim's face. And then Ben remembered something from the poster. But he just didn't know if he had the courage, or insanity, to try it. But Tim didn't look so good, as he started to find out what he was going to be required to witness, despite his mother's assurances that he would be fine.

"The Law is quite clear, Ms. Scruggs. It is not an option. Your other two children must be in attendance."

"I understand. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Even Charlotte didn't really believe that. The law actually allowed a lot of flexibility for the Judge, but Krum wasn't the kind of Judge that liked using flexibility. She thought the strictest interpretations were the best, and at any rate, this wasn't her area to skirt subtleties. And she definitely wasn't going to do it on a Saturday.

All Ben could think was 'what the hell is wrong with all these adults?' Were they really going to take a scared 9-year-old boy and force him to watch this? Then Ben remembered. He was Tim's replacement for a deadbeat, washout dad. And he wasn't going to be a deadbeat, washout brother.

"Your Honor?"

"Boy, you are on dangerous---"

What he had to say, he better say quickly. "If I was a Level One, then Tim wouldn't have to watch the induction and Sam could. Right?"

Judge Krum sighed. She wasn't impressed with the sacrifice of the youth; she just had better things to do than run a circus. She banged her gavel down with finality.

"Benjamin Scruggs, for arguing with the Bench while still under sentence of the NUDEP laws and despite repeated warnings, I hereby elevate your status to Level 1a as defined under the Juvenile Act of Community Kouroi Examples Discipline. As per the law, your original sentence of 48 hours restarts from this moment. As a Level 1a you will be subject to all laws so governing, including a mandatory induction befitting your level of insolence. This induction is considered public and available to all up toa a number pursuant to the fire codes of the room in which it is held, and will begin immediately. Bailiff, escort the Offender and family to the Induction Room. Mr. Marley, you and your family are free to attend, as well. This court session is now concluded."

"All rise." The Judge retired to her chambers and the Bailiff came for Ben.

"Mom! Please don't make Tim watch!" Ben yelped as he was pulled away to the awful dreaded double doors.

"Hmmpf." Mr. Marey clearly disapproved of Ben, and felt the boy's antics were unwarranted. "It's silly, Charlotte. It'll be good for the boy to see this, see his older brother and tormentor corrected by a just system. Jacob, you're watching this as well. This is what should happen to the kind of boys that will lead you astray from the right way to behave! Let's go."

"Charlotte," Deidre Marley put her hand reassuringly on the dazed woman's arm, and kindly offered: "Perhaps it would be best if Tim stayed out here and kept an eye on Jacob. After all, Jacob still technically needs a Minder."

"Nonsense," Calvin Marley retorted. "Jacob does not need a Minder. He will be with us in the Induction Room, where he should be. He will witness---"

"I am not one of your children," Deidre cut off her husband's diatribe sharply. He didn't like it, but he took Sam on in to the Induction Room. It just made him even more sure that the likes of Ben Scruggs should not be friends with his son or even be allowed at their home.

"Maybe Jacob and Tim could go to the cafeteria and wait?" Charlotte offered. Now that she was gathering her wits back together, she wasn't sure she even wanted Tim hearing Ben's screams. And she knew from experience that they would be heard all the way in the courtroom.

"I think that's an excellent idea." Deidre agreed.

Jacob and Tim had no argument, though Jacob had to falsely reassure Tim the whole time they waited that although it hurt, Ben would be OK.

"I went through it. And I'm fine." Jacob said and smiled. He was anything but fine remembering the horrible ordeal, barely able to control the tremors as he tried to smile and pass off the false comfort for the nine year old boy. And he also was worried that Ben would probably get it even worse.

He would. The inductor had no knowledge of Ben's heroics. All he knew was a snotty kid didn't leave well enough alone and thought he could argue with a judge. Well, things were different now.

Ben was half-pulled and half-walked into the Induction Room, and the man waiting there for him was buff and sinister looking. He had pulled off his button-up shirt and laid it aside, dressed in slacks and a tight A-frame undershirt, and he was stretching his arms using some wicked looking bamboo flailing devices. The man was standing next to a worn leather upholstered bench that was height adjustable. At the base were shackles to either end and on the other side was a complementary adjustable table with handgrips. The place where it was most worn looked about the right height for a kid to be bent over it while standing with feet partly spread.

The room was only lit by a few lamps, and there were stiff back chairs and ancient-appearing hard upholstered settees for the family and guests to sit and observe the offender being beaten – though they were certainly just as welcome to stand. Only the offender wasn't welcome to do as he wished. The atmosphere was geared to almost literally scare the shit out of the offender. In fact, if the boy (or girl) had not had a proper bowel movement in the last three hours, he or she was often cleaned out with an enema first. And sometimes it was done just for the heck of it.

For now, Ben was pushed and pulled around semi-roughly by the Bailiff to get him situated in front of the leather bound spanking bench, and then roughly pushed him into a bent over position, chest against the leather, taking his arms in front of him and instructing the boy to grab a hold of two handgrips. All the way, Ben was oscillating between sweating and shaking at what was coming, and his audience watched on, his sister appreciative and Sam Marley justified. The younger Sam watched, not relishing the pain as much as the humiliation that was bringing down this now former bully.

And Ben knew it.

The Bailiff kicked his legs apart, which dropped his lower body on to the bench to just above his pubis, his small dick and balls dangling beneath. Two steel blocks slid up from out of the floor and formed braces on the insides of his feet/ankles, such that he was prevented from moving his legs back together. Another button on a wall console was pressed and bands extended out from the blocks around his ankles and fully secured his feet's position on the floor. They weren't going anywhere. Ben gulped – the driest gulp he had ever taken.

The audience had settled in with anticipation of the coming spanking. Ben himself glanced to his left and caught his heart up in his throat as the Inductor casually set the evil and horrifying spilt bamboo rods aside. They couldn't seriously be about to use those on me???? His eyesight was already going dim, swimming in his own darkness, and he felt himself going out, except he wasn't given the chance. As soon as he felt himself going out, the Inductor stuck those acrid and bitter salts under his nose and Ben jerked back – and was immediately shoved back into place.

So now he was still just as terrified, but without the comfort of being able to pass out again.

"Was he about to pass out AGAIN?" He heard his sister say. "What a wuss. Guess it matches his pitiful boy parts."

Ben wanted to get angry at the remark, but his first instinct was an embarrassment so profound that it was hard to form a proper wrathful state of mind. At least no one at his school, besides his sister, would witness what he knew would be a total sobbing breakdown. And that was when he heard a knock at the door!

"Hello, sorry to disturb you, but the Judge said that this was a publicly viewable event." It was a woman's voice, who went on to explain she and her husband and kids were registering as a family for a little girl they were trying to adopt. "But while we were down here, we thought it would be very educational for our boys to see this."

"Oh, of course," Ben's mom said in a disturbingly pleasant voice, "please come in. It probably will be good for your boys. Where do they go to school?"

"Oh, they both go to Palm Drive Middle School."

Palm Drive Middle School!!! Ben's eyes got even wider than the panic state in which they were already tensed. That was where he went to school!! Ben didn't want to look, but he knew he had to, and as he did so, he saw the eighth grade boy, Barton, leaning over and checking out the small hanging fruits of his loins from behind through the spread legs. The boy then stood straight and walked back to his brother, Trevor, who was in seventh grade, shaking his head in amused disdain and holding his fingers about half an inch apart.

Hey! I'm bigger than that! Ben wanted to shout, but the boys were already laughing, and no sense in calling even more shame to himself; besides that, the worst part was that he knew who both boys were! Barton and Trevor were the type of kids who manage to achieve that balance of staying out of trouble because they just didn't cause any or participate in any, but they still had a strong group of friends and were more or less known and liked by most people. Not really in the 'popular' group like Ben could have been said to be – before the current position in which he found himself – but solid B-Group kids. And while they weren't loud and rambunctious, they also weren't quiet wallflowers. There was no way they were keeping this to themselves when they got back to class.

"WHOA!" Ben yelped out in surprise, when he felt something he never thought he would before.

"Hush, before I strip the skin off your ass with that bamboo and start over!" The Inductor said roughly. Again, the Inductor knew, and Charlotte knew, that the threat was a ruse to maintain fear levels, but it was a real enough threat to keep Ben quiet. He still grew even more wide-eyed and sought out his mom's attention. Surely a mother wouldn't let a man do this to her son!!!

But she seemed less concerned than he would have liked. He stirred uncomfortably, thinking that at any moment the man would stop, but he wasn't!

What had startled Ben so bad was when the Inductor reached down and slipped his hand under the boy and took a hold of his small nutsack! The man didn't squeeze, but he was none too gentle as he rolled each ball around with his fingers, then both together and then individually again, Then prodded and poked the edges of the scrotum, as if searching for the limits of the sac, and then began an inspection of the skin, even tugging it in parts, and grasping the scrotum as a whole and giving it tug downward. This was wrapped-up by a further manual inspection of his balls, all while everyone in the room, five adults and four kids, watched in a light snickering silence.

Finally the man pulled his hand away, but only for a brief moment before he came back in and clamped something cool and foreign around the whole of Ben's testicles and ballsack.

"The device I put on you – not too tight, is it, by the way?"

Ben shook his head, already fighting back tears. He figured at this point what he said didn't matter so much. The device, whatever it did, was staying.

"Good. That device is what we call an encourager. It's to encourage you to maintain a good hold of those hand grips throughout. See, you won't be tied to those grips. We want you to be an active participant in your paddling. As long as you keep a hold of those, it means you're ready to keep going. But if you did want to stop the spanking and take your hands off, the Ball Encourager, and there are different kinds, encourages you to keep going. So for example, just loosen your grip on one of those and see what happens."

Ben shook his head. He didn't want to know what evil the metal device clamped to his nuts did.

"Go on, let go . . . . . or I'll give you TWO double doses, boy."

Ben slowly, hesitantly, let go of the right hand grip; the inhuman grunt of agonized pain that followed was instantaneous. It was like he had been kicked in the nuts – by a grown man. It hurt. It hurt more than anything in life he had felt. But as soon as he grabbed a hold of the handles, the principal part of the pain went away, even though the terror of the memory lingered and a wave of awful nausea hit him.

The inductor went on to explain to the group that at this level, Level One Offender status, the encourager was only used as an encouragement for an Offender to follow the protocol of the Induction as a full participant; it was never used as an isolated punishment weapon below Level Three. He also explained that like the X-40 Paddle, the Ball Encourager was also developed by Fisher Industries and worked on a similar principle. It elicited direct neural stimulation without any soft tissue injury, and minimal, if any, post charge inflammatory response.

"That's the lowest setting, by the way, little boy, that we will be using. It gets worse the longer I spank you. The way the spanking works is this: as long as you keep a hold of those two hand grips, you're signaling to me that you want me to keep hitting your ass with this special paddle. The tighter you grip them, the harder I'll lay into your backside. So the more pain you want, the more you'll get; that's what we mean by you being a full participant. When you want me to stop, just take your hands off the grips for three minutes, and we'll be done."

Ben almost literally felt as if he had been shot in the chest. This was going to go on until he let go for three minutes? He hadn't even lasted ¾ of a second on the trial release of the lowest setting!! Or, at least, it was lowest setting that this horrid man was going to use. He had no doubt the man was serious, but he also knew he couldn't go three minutes!!! They were going to be whipping his poor ass forever! They would strip all the skin, all the muscle - - - they would just be whipping bone before he was able to let go of the handgrips. This couldn't be right, this couldn't be right!

"Oh, and that nausea you feel, I can get rid of that, if you would like . . . ."

Ben nodded absently; the nausea only made the insufferable all the more suffering. He wondered briefly how the man would get rid of the nausea when he heard a sound he knew he had heard before. It was a kind of whoosh, but before he could quite place it:

"WHAAAAPPPPPPPOOOWWWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!!!"

"AANNGHHHAAAAGGGGGAGGHHHHHHHHHHHnnnuunnggnnggnnaagHAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

The scream was piercingly incredible, only muffled part way through by another agonizing groan as he had accidentally let go of one of the handgrips during his surprise, and he couldn't grip that thing again fast enough or hard enough as his nuts were again plunged into something beyond instantaneous agony. But his blood-curdling yell continued with the rearward intense pain spreading deeper and faster into him than any paddling or spanking he had ever felt before – not that he had had many, but this one hurt worse than all of them together.

It did take the edge off the nausea. But only because the nausea was replaced by a piercing and unrelenting pain.

His ass was burning like a torch was on it and no sting or flame had abated before he gave an involuntary tensing when his subconscious picked up another 'whoosh' beneath his screams.

"WWHHHAAAPPPPOOWWWWWWWWwwuhhzziinng!!!!!"

"AARRRRAARRAGGAGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

He gripped the handles even harder and was thoroughly shocked as the third paddle swing was harder and even more ferocious than the previous two.

"WWWWWHHHHAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!"

It cracked so loud against his ass and the boy screamed so hard that no one heard the backward 'zing' as the paddle delivered it's reversed polarity aftershock and reset it itself in the split second that it was being pulled away and off his ass. It was like his mind (and his ass) had just been guillotined into two, one part screaming and trying to sort and make sense of the pain, and one part desperately looking around and trying to make sense of the situation.

Fortunately for Ben, his subconscious quickly picked up on what the Inductor had said about how hard he gripped the handles signalling how hard he wanted to be spanked, and he reflexively loosened his grip. Unfortunately he loosened his grip a bit too much on both sides, and he was hit by a double kick to his groin, or at least that's what it felt like to him, but as he fought with every fiber in his conscious that he could call away from his pain centers, just to fight the urge to clamp back down hard on the handles, he felt the next whack on his bottom, and it was indeed not as hard, though still tortuous to his sore, bright red asscheeks:

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

This was about when Ben finally noticed on the far wall a digital readout of how hard he was holding the handgrips, with a bar going from green to red that corresponding to the strength of the grip. The first line, where the bar was still green, just said 'Please keep spanking my ass!' Falling below that line was when 'The Encourager' kicked in. The line went a brighter green about where it said 'More! Spank me more!' Then higher up the digital readout would turn yellow next to a sign that said 'Keep going, but spank me harder.' If the handholds were gripped even harder, the bar would go orange next to a sign that said 'I want you to spank my ass until your arms wear out!' Then if he gripped the handgrips as tight as he could – which was what he wanted to do every time a jarring stroke landed on his previously white fleshy expanse –

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

then the bar would turn bright red and up to the sign that said, 'Please use all your strength on my offensive bottom, and just don't stop spanking me. I deserve more! A lot more!!'

The signs and the treachery of them was HORRIBLE; having to see it while getting spanked and knowing he was the one generating the bar and lighting up those signs, it was like getting assaulted from both ends. And it was sooooo difficult not to squeeze down in pain, such as now, which generated an orange:

"WWHHAAAAPPPPPPPOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!!!!!!!!"

"AARRRAGAAGGGGAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

But the counterbalance was not squeezing enough:

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

"NNNGGAAAAHH-nngguunnngggghhhhhhh---PPPHHHHHOOOHHHHHHHHHWWWWW!!!!!!!!"

And nearly have the breath 'kicked out of you'from the nuts upward and have the piercing nausea demand an immediate exit from your body until overwhelmed a split second later by the shredding pain ripping through muscle, fat and sinew -- your lower body desperately trying to hop about and escape, except bound to the floor, fully immobile. Slowly his consciousness fought to be able to work the grips and choose the level of punishment:

"WHHAAAAPPPPPOOOOWWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!" (Yellow)

It was one of the worst parts of the torture to have to recognize that this

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!" (Green)

was actually gentler and easier

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

on his increasingly pained and tormented ass

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

than what could be happening

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

it was almost like he had to be thankful for getting what he was getting

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

and, of course, that only made it worse

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

much, much worse

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

horribly, agonizingly worse

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

Ben honestly didn't know how much more he could physically and mentally take. He was already a blubbering mess,

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

his mind slipping away so that he could barely concentrate to

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

keep that delicate balance between keeping a grip on

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

the handgrips to keep from getting 'kicked in the

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

balls' (which he still was, about every third one) and, by keeping his hands

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

on the grips, literally 'asking' for more

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

and more

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

and more

"WHAAAPPPPOOOWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!"

until

he began

once more

to pass out

and even the jolting neural kick to the balls didn't bump him out of it.

But the magic smelling salts did.

"Welcome back," The inductor said as the exhausted and overly beaten boy slowly swam back to consciousness. Ben was still laying forward on the punishing bench, but the first thing he actually became aware of was that his hands were not gripping the handholds, and he lurched for them automatically, squeezing them tight.

The Inductor laughed and remarked on how easy it is to train a boy properly when you find what motivates them. The nausea returned to Ben's stomach, but this time it wasn't because of any kick to the balls, though his lower section did still feel like he was recovering from a few recent of those.

"OK, little boy. I'm going to turn The Encourager back on, so watch how you hold those. But I can see right now how much you really want it."

In alarm, Ben looked up at the plasma screen that showed the hand-squeeze response. He didn't realize how hard he had squeezed the grips; he had sent the bar all the way up to red. He was telling the Inductor: 'Please use all your strength on my offensive bottom, and just don't stop spanking me. I deserve more! A lot more!!'

"NOOO!!!" Ben tried to cry out, but he was cut off, half by sobs, half by the reintroduction of the new reality:

"WWWWWHHHHAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!"

The scream that followed that one could almost be heard down at the cafeteria, before dying away in choking gurgles of sobs and in whimpers that were dying to get out, except that they were cut off by successive strokes to his ass:

"WHHAAAAPPPPPOOOOWWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!" (Yellow)

rapid

"WHHAAAAPPPPPOOOOWWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!" (Yellow)

and moving around

"WHHAAAAPPPPPOOOOWWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!" (Yellow)

and hitting areas of his ass still relatively 'virgin'

"WHHAAAAPPPPPOOOOWWWWWWwwuuuhhzzinng!!" (Yellow)

recruiting even more pain centers to join the others.

"Now," the strong, manly Inductor said, "That should get you warmed up, how about we begin the Induction Proper? Are you ready for your first real spanking, Ben?"

Ben almost passed out again, but he didn't. Instead he broke down into uncontrolled sobs and wails, like a 5 year old whose beloved puppy had just died in front of him. For Ben it was like his life had ended, and he couldn't figure out why. But who knew he had that much fluid left in him? His nose and eyes were like waterspouts as he started a fountain right there on the punishment table.

"Well what do you expect comes to Bullies, boy? You have to earn mercy, now."