Free Dystopyum (The D-ot Hexalogy Book 1) by Chris Finkelstein

tried again, sneering, “No
wonder you’re worried about productivity and failures. How many
females have you lost? Of all my luck, I have to get the loser of the
bunch. You fucking loooooooserrrrrrrrrrr!”
The torturer burst into the room. This was not the response he was
expecting. “I make them all pass!” He quickly regained his composure.
Good. He’s here. “You’ve got to be able to do this!” Martha shouted,
fearless now. I’ll put up with anything, please!” She was looking at him,
pleading.
He stood there, staring back at her, waiting.
He’s thinking about it, she thought. “I’ll do anything,” Martha
begged, looking directly at him. “Anything.”
He still stood there, studying her. I think she’s ready, he thought to
himself. Yes, she is.
“There is something I can do,” he said. “You must sign a waiver for
it. It is extreme, but you should then pass. You will become like an
animal.” He paused, “Actually, less than one.”
“Anything! Anything! I’ll sign!” Anything to see my son again.
“Don’t you want to know what it is?” he asked, surprised.
Martha paused. What is it? What — it doesn’t matter! I’ve got no
choice! She looked at him. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve got to pass.”
He pulled out a form that he had at the ready, and held it for Martha
to sign.
She signed the document and then, as her shoulders and head sagged
with resignation, her torturer said, “I’ll be right back.”
He left the room for what seemed to be about fifteen minutes. He
came back with a couple of other male guards. Her torturer began flashing
pictures of Jan up on the screen now. These were pictures of Jan’s SE’s,
from different angles. There were close ups and the most horrible scenes
of painful contortions of Jan’s face when in tetany. All the pictures shown
had bleeding from one spot or another. They started up the recording of
the female’s words of hate again, with her endless repetitions about the
heresy of love. Then they started the SE’s.
The three torturers stood there and watched as she received seven
SE’s in the period of a half hour. Then when she was an incoherent lump,
they unstrapped her from the toilet, and bound her on the sticky floor.
They then had their way with her in any and every way, and they took
their time about it.
When they had enough, they brought in a big, very heavy female. She
wore a black leather mask over her eyes, and was tightly strapped with
black leather strips over her body to the point of pain. Her fat flesh bulged
out from the tight leather restraints. She brought instruments of pain, and
used them to force Martha to pleasure her in any way she desired.
Sometimes her only pleasure was to cause Martha pain. Although there
was a death penalty in the NOV for homosexuality, there are always
exceptions, and she was one of them.
The rule was that Martha had to be bound such that she was always
facing the screen with the beastly images of her son’s torments. When
satiated, the leather female left Martha bound helplessly, laying there
sticking to the floor. Then the next guard came in for his turn. When they
ran out of rapist volunteers, they tied Martha back in place on the toilet
for her standard RSEs. The pictures on the screen went back to pictures of
other people in loving scenes. The female voice went on and on…
An hour went by. Then another hour, trailed by the next. Another day,
then another followed this, although Martha would not have known it, if it
were not for her torturer’s shift. He had never taken a day off. In between
his shifts, she was put on automatic RSE, with the occasional ‘visitor’.
Another and another followed another shift, and so it went. Minute-byminute, hour-by-hour, day-by-day this experience continued, and then her
torturer’s voice disappeared for a day or two. The other rapist volunteers
still came though.
A day came when her assigned torturer walked into the room, smiling. He had