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I Am A Master Torturer (Mark Andrews)


I Am A Master Torturer by Mark Andrews

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I am a graduate mechanical engineer who took an interest in the failure of the wonderful new system of criminal slavery to curb certain classes of criminal. I determined that severe pain was about the only way some offenders should be punished, particularly as an example to others.

I put this proposition to the Director-General of the Department of Slave Management, who, being very aware of the problem, heard me out with interest. The upshot of that interview saw me set up in a small laboratory/workshop, designing and building machines designed not only to inflict severe pain on such malefactors but also to do so with quite some drama so as to get the message across to others.

This is my story.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 1 / 2018

No. words: 35000

Style: Male Dom - M/M, Male Dom - M/F

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Excerpt

Chapter 1

When slavery was reintroduced about halfway into the century, it was hailed worldwide as the saviour of mankind. For too many years, the gradual emasculation of the penal systems, particularly in the western world, had rendered the police impotent and the courts unwilling to impose appropriate sentences knowing full well the prison system was bursting at the seams and was in any case pretty near useless in correcting the errant ways of the criminal classes everywhere.
But slavery fixed all that. With the very willing agreement of the United Nations and its member states this new brand of slavery was made so horrible that the criminal classes thought a great deal more than twice before risking such a horrible fate.
For a start, sentences were much longer than the former jail terms had been and in serious cases were for life – and that meant for the term of your natural life. Secondly, the life of a slave was made as horrible as possible. For example, slaves were to be considered as less than animals. They were not permitted clothing of any kind at any time and only in the coldest climes were their feet and lower legs sprayed with Thermacoat®, a clear plastic that was invisible but protected the wearer against frostbite. They were also permanently denuded of all facial and body hair below the eyes.
Furthermore the new laws also required that they be worked at the hardest possible labour for up to fifteen hours a day. And finally, they were fed Slave Chow, a very cheaply produced pelletised food made from low-class or cast-off meats, vegetables and grain, all steamed together under pressure in giant hoppers which then masticated the contents to a thick paste, extruded it from nozzles, dried it and then bagged it into single-kilogram paper bags, fifty-kilogram sacks, or stored it in giant silos for bulk delivery to those slaveholders with a large herd. A double handful night and morning followed by a litre of plain water provided all the nutriments a slave needed but of course provided none of the pleasure one normally derives from eating.
I say that the slavery fixed the problems of the world. I should perhaps amend that rather ambitious statement. Yes, it certainly saw the demise of many crimes including extreme religious terrorism, street crime and a large proportion of burglaries. Unfortunately, there were other areas where the impact was a great deal less successful: among the worst of these were crimes motivated by sex, but also less affected was white-collar crime where young executives were convinced they could beat the system.
And this is where I came in.
My name is Peter Fullerton and I am a graduate mechanical engineer from the Queensland University of Technology in Brisbane. I had had a passing interest in the science of penology and had watched the successes and failures of criminal slavery with a rather more active curiosity than most others. And that’s when I decided that my calling in life might well be used not only to punish those seemingly unaffected by the rather Draconian elements of slavery, but to send a message to others of like mind that a great deal of pain and shame might well accompany their continued breaches of the peace.
I made an appointment to speak with John Albright the director-general of the Queensland Department of Slave Management to whom I had sent a brief outline of my thesis on the areas where criminal slavery had not appeared to work as well as was expected. This had of course included my proposals to correct the imbalance.
He heard me out quietly and apparently with interest and when I had finished expounding on my written treatise he first of all asked about my interest in the subject and then, after I had explained a passing concern, wondered why I had come to see him about it.
“Sir, as you know, I am a mechanical engineer with a bent for useful gadgetry. It seems to me that in the case of this level of intransigence, if pain was added to the mix of the hardships already being experienced by the slaves, the message might finally get across that society is not going to tolerate their behaviour any longer.
“Here are some sketches that represent some of my ideas on how such disgusting perverts might be punished and by that I mean publicly so as to not only make them understand that pain now follows such behaviour but also to get the message across to others of their persuasion out in the public area.
“In the past, pain was used extensively in the punishment of malefactors. In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, it was largely abolished as being inhuman. The problem is, as I see it, that such people are scarcely human themselves and that the infliction of rather severe pain is perhaps the one way they may be corrected of their sins.”
“And you believe that the government may well accept these rather outré ideas of yours?”
I smiled at him. “I do, sir. You will be well aware that the media has been making merry with the apparent lack of success in the area of punishing crimes motivated by sex and white-collar crime. I imagine this is more than somewhat of an embarrassment to the cabinet and that they are no doubt searching for a solution to the problem.
“If you were to allow me to turn some of these sketches into actual items of punishment, and then select a particularly nasty offender to be punished before the TV cameras, the results may well go some way to reducing this problem.”
He looked at me thoughtfully and I knew then that he and his officers had no doubt been charged by their political masters to come up with a solution and to do it quick-smart. He nodded at me and told me he thought there was some merit in my ideas but that he would have to put it to his minister and that he would get back to me as soon as he had an answer.
“I can’t ask more than that, sir,” stood up, shook his hand and left his office.
It only took two days and I had a call back from him inviting me to meet the Minister. James Francis was my kind of man. Whereas the DG was formal and correct with me, the Minister was rather fulsome in his praise of my ideas.
“You seem to have come right to the point, Mr Fullerton. We of course, have been aware of the problem for quite some time but to this point haven’t been able to come up with a solution that we think might work. I believe yours has merit and while it is certainly harsh, it is clear that such harshness is probably about the only thing these animals understand.
“I am of course referring to the sexual offenders, rather than white-collar criminals, however that latter group have been laughing at us for far too long and if the infliction of pain in a public arena is the only way we are going to get the message across that their activities will not be tolerated, then so be it.
“What I have decided, is to set you up in a small unit in the Department’s head office to develop your ideas and fabricate some of the items I see here in these sketches. The Premier is in accord and we now await your completion of the first of these instruments.
“Which one do you propose to develop first?”
“As the sexual offender is probably the most serious of this class of malefactor, sir, might I suggest this one.” I was pointing to a machine I had envisaged to inflict severe pain to the genitals of a sex offender and he nodded and smiled.
“Perfect! And how long do you think it might take you to actually build this machine?”
“Oh, probably a month or two. Er, I don’t know whether you have any ideas about the actual event, sir, but I feel that it ought to be high theatre. Perhaps staged in an auditorium of some sort and with the victim and her or his family present, front and centre and not only the machine and its victim displayed, but also the reactions of the audience to his pain. If the resultant show was aired on prime TV – and I suspect the television companies will be falling over themselves to secure the rights to do so – the message would go out loud and clear to the whole population of Queensland, not to mention the rest of Australia.”
He stared at me in some awe. “My, you are serious about this, Peter. But that makes me even more eager to have you on board…” He turned to his DG. “Please see that Peter has everything he needs, John. I think we are going to have to nurture this young man for I can see nothing but good coming from his association with us.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Minister, and it shall be done.”

I won’t go into too much detail about the construction of my machine. Suffice it to say I made it appear an instrument of terror not to mention severe pain to the male genitals of a sexual offender.
I recruited Quentin Jacobs, an electrical engineer friend of mine to collaborate with me in utilising the combination of our two skills to result in a machine that we hoped would send lightning bolts of fear through the minds of these perverted individuals.
I am well aware that the sexual urges of individual human beings are many and varied but no matter how much a person may be tempted to deal aggressively with young people or women, society expects him to either seek treatment or control himself in some other way. There are few, if any, ordinary people who have much sympathy with these perverts and I suspected that Queensland at large would be only too pleased to see them punished.
I shall now attempt to describe the machine and then to relate its first use.
It is in two parts. The first part is the standard upon which the victim is to be secured. It is in the form of a narrow cone exactly one metre high. It is constructed of top grade stainless steel and the apex is not pointed but rounded at the two-centimetre diameter mark.
The victim is forced up onto this cone and impaled on it. His legs are then drawn up behind him and with his wrists, secured to brackets emanating from the back of the cone. A further extension of this bracket leads up to a metal neck collar that draws his upper body backwards somewhat. Another bracket emerging from the front of the cone secures the root of his penis and his scrotum in another collar which can be tightened to the point it engenders a full erection in his penile member.
In front of him is the electrical side of the machine. This unit is designed with two electrodes on an arm which may be extended to reach out and press against the outer sides of each testicle. This arm has a further electrical connection which when brought up close to his body allows it to be plugged into the metal collar around the root of his genital organs.
The middle part of this unit is a sort-of milking machine with a flexible metal tube which is inserted deep into his urethra and includes a pair of test-tube-like glass receptacles to collect his semen.
The last remaining part of this unit is another arm emanating from the very top which extends forward and ends up with similar electrodes to those designed for his testicles which may be brought forward and pressed against his temples.
It is a thing of macabre beauty, at least to us and when the Minister and his DG inspected it they agreed with us.
Quentin and I demonstrated how it worked but not with a real person. We had had a life-size dummy made with joints that would move as required and a real anus made of plastic and rubber which could be impaled on the cone. We secured this up onto it and then manipulated its limbs so as to present its body leaning backwards a little and its genitals (which were very realistic and the penis of which could actually be pumped up to a very lifelike erection) now really secure.
Quentin then extended the electrodes onto its temples and testicles and then inserted the tube deep up into its urethra. Then, as the minister and his DG watched, Quentin operated the controls which he had designed around a computer program to deliver a combination of sexual excitement and unholy pain via the electrodes at his temples and testicles.
Of course the dummy didn’t react, but the demonstration with the pair of us explaining what would be happening if it was a real person secured on the cone brought home, I think in graphic detail, that a real victim would be suffering from a number of sources.
Of course, the first milking, stimulated by minute and very pleasurable electric shocks to his genital organs, would result in extreme pleasure but as any man knows, once that pleasure is experienced, a second bout if brought on too closely after the first, results in a diabolic ache and a third and even a fourth is even more agonising. So this part of his punishment is to milk him until he is screaming for mercy. But then the real punishment begins.
The shocks to his temples and genitals now assume a much higher voltage although their nature changes through various cycles. For example, alternating current has a completely different effect on the human body, and particularly its most sensitive parts (the genital organs) than direct current. Then, the frequency of the alternating current can be varied and this too delivers quite different but always very painful reactions in his body. Oh, I should have mentioned that the stainless-steel cone upon which he is perched provides another electrode so that the shocks can be varied to many different parts of his body from his temples, his anus and his genital organs.
The Minister was absolutely ecstatic in his praises for our efforts. “This machine is certainly a thing of exquisite, if macabre beauty,” he gushed, “I can’t wait to see it used for real.”
He turned to his DG and mentioned that the Premier had suggested that John Brady would be his choice for its first victim. I was as pleased as punch at this suggestion. John Brady is an ultra-handsome, highly athletic young man who thinks that every woman is his for the taking and when Wendy Griffith hotly refused his amorous advances he not only stripped and raped her brutally but continued on with the assault until she was unconscious and near to death.
The Chief Justice had had no compunction whatsoever in sentencing him to slavery for the rest of his natural life which is what everybody expected anyway. He had shown no remorse whatsoever during the investigation, the trial, and afterwards.
In cases like his the usual treatment of a slave is deferred. Normally, newly convicted slaves are collected from the courts and taken to a State Slave Centre (SSC), processed and sold at auction the following Saturday morning. But with cases like Brady’s, where additional sentences may have been ordered by the judge or deemed appropriate by the Minister for Slave Management, his sale is deferred pending such further treatment.
It had been decided, that the auction room at the SSC would be an ideal location to administer the punishment and so it was arranged for a fortnight hence. In the meantime Quentin and I checked and rechecked the actual functions to ensure there would be no hitches on the day.
I agreed to be the ‘victim’, “As long as you don’t zap me too hard, man.”
He grinned. “I’ll be careful, don’t worry.”
It all worked perfectly every time, even to the weird masturbation part of the process which of course he terminated once I had ejaculated once.
I had him deliver a full strength single shock to my testicles because I wanted to know exactly how bad the pain would be. He asked me if I was sure and I nodded and said, “Yes, do it!”
The pain was excruciating but I was exultant. This was exactly what that bastard needed and I just felt really happy that Quentin and I had been able to produce the goods, as it were.
Wendy Griffith had by this time just about fully recovered from her ordeal – physically, that is. But mentally she was still a mess. I had taken the trouble to speak with her psychiatrist to ask him if we should invite her to the punishment.
He looked at me carefully. “Peter, I think this is perhaps the one thing that is going to snap her out of her terrible malaise. Watching him get some measure of what he did to her will, I hope, bring about her full mental recovery, so go ahead, invite her and her family and I’ll be along to sit with her during it all.
The auction room was full to capacity. They charged a proper commercial price and they sold the tickets on the basis of first-in, best-dressed. Apart from Wendy and her family and of course the minister and his DG, there were no favourites.
Once everybody was seated, John Brady was dragged in by two uniformed officers of the SSC and secured up onto the cone, his muscular legs drawn up behind his buttocks and secured in the manacles there as were his wrists and neck. Quentin then carefully secured the two pairs of electrodes to his temples and testicles and then inserted the tube into the meatus of his penis.
Of course he hadn’t remained silent through all this. He may have been ultra-handsome and had a near-perfect physique, together with flawless skin, but he was not a nice person. He mouthed all manner of invective to his guards as they dragged him into the room and when he saw the crowd seated in the ascending, semi-circular rows of seats facing him he just screamed abuse at them, too.
But then as he approached the machine and stared at it, I imagine realising what was about to happen to him, at least in some measure, he quietened momentarily but then let fly again with his obscene abuse as he was fitted into it.
That didn’t last long, though, for Quentin now positioned himself at the control panel, checking his circuits and readings and then pressing the button to start the program.
As you are aware, the program starts with a pleasurable excitement of his genital organs, resulting in a powerful erection and a first very potent series of jets of his semen up the tube and into the first of the test tubes.
And now his face assumed a sneer of delight. I had left Quentin up there on the stage and joined Wendy in her front row centre position so that I could explain to her what was happening during the course of the punishment.
She turned to me and said that he appeared to be enjoying himself and why on earth would we be doing that? I whispered to her that in only a few minutes the rapture that was now apparent all over his face, would soon be replaced with something approaching agony and that she must just be patient.
She nodded and turned her attention back to Brady, now squirming in apparent delight as the electrodes tickled his genital organs to a second, somewhat lesser spurt of his semen.
But that second ejaculation was now bringing on the first pangs of the ache that would soon have him moaning and groaning. But of course that was only the beginning. Very soon after that the electrodes at his temples and his testicles would begin to increase the voltage and other parameters of the shocks so that his body would begin to shake and shudder; his eyes would seem to be standing out on stalks; sweat would form all over his body and his mouth would be open with his tongue poking out but without a sound emanating from his foul mouth as his larynx was now paralysed by the shocks.
By my side, Wendy was now ecstatic. It was as if her malaise had never been. There was the man who had so brutally raped her and otherwise attacked her now in the throes of the worst pain she could possibly imagine.
She turned to me once again, her face now radiant, “Talk about retribution, Peter. This is absolutely perfect and I’ll bet that every rapist in the state now watching this on their TV or whatever, is having second thoughts about his behaviour.”


Author Information

a prolific BDSM writer who lives on the Gold Coast of Australia. His books have been delighting Olympia Press customers for many years and now he is one of Fiction4All's exclusive authors.

 

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