0258223 And The Purity Laws Ch 03

Chapter 3 – Pain And Humiliation

"Tomorrow," said Carver with smile on her face, "We'll put you on public display – that should be interesting because you'll be open to whatever any passers by might think of to amuse themselves. But first we have the Testicle Twist. As this is the first time it will be interesting to see what degree of rotation we can get."

My mind had been dwelling on the possibilities of how others would amuse themselves at my expense when I realised what she had just said. "Degree of rotation? I don't understand."

"There's a lot you don't understand, "said Josie as she put on a pair of heavy duty plastic gloves, "... but you soon will! Come over here!"

I was pushed by Carver towards a free standing wall with a hole – not dissimilar to the one through which I had been photographed. This time I would not be able to see what was happening the other side. Carver pushed me right up to the wall.

"Put you hands above your head," she instructed. Not knowing what else to do I raised my hands and felt them suddenly pinioned against the wall in some form of cuff – my hands were unmovable. "Spread!" she pushed my right ankle with her foot so I quickly understood what she wanted. This time my ankle was clipped into a leg-iron. "And the other."

As I stood with my legs spread apart, hands above my head, wearing only the flimsiest of pouches I wondered how it could be that, only an hour earlier, I'd been sat in the comfort of my own home "playing" on the computer.

"Now," Carver said to Josie, "This is more difficult part. I'll push and you pull."

"Okay." Josie disappeared out of sight behind the wall. Something cold was placed against my waist.

"You won't be needing this any longer," Carver said and, after a second's panic, I realised that she had cut the waistband on the pouch – now I was naked again.

Suddenly I felt my balls being grasped from behind. Was this what they were going to do – stand there and twist them? But she didn't twist – she squeezed until she was holding only one ball and then I felt it being forced through the hole I had seen. It only just fitted. I understood what she had said about pushing and pulling. Carver was thrusting my bollocks through the wall and Josie was pulling them from the other side. There was a feeling of relief when they completed the job and the only sensation I had in that region was that my balls felt very cold.

Josie re-appeared with a long clip, like an oversized hairgrip, in her hand. "I thought you'd like to see the Twister. I clip this onto you ball sac so your nuts are my side of the clip and the wall, and you are the other side. Then I twist it until I can't physically turn it any further. In theory I should manage at least 300 degrees of turn – but we shall see."

I felt a pinching sensation as she slid the clip trapping my balls the other side of the wall. At that moment a small aperture appeared in the wall level with my eyes and I could see through – but not downwards.

"This," Carver explained, "Is being recorded for News at Seven – look straight ahead and you'll see what will appear on television."

A screen came to life directly in line with my eyes. All I could see at that moment was the back of Josie's uniform. As she moved away I gasped – fully filling the screen was a picture of my pink floppy balls, held in place by a clip. The background (where I should have been) was a grid with the numbers 90o, 120o, 270o and 360o – they were arranged with the 90 at 12 o'clock, the 120 at 3 and so on. The clip pointed to the 360o mark.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," it was the Sergeant's voice, "0258223 will now undergo the first punishment for masturbation. Police Officer Josie White will turn his testicles, in multiples of 90o. Let the punishment commence."

At that I saw Josie's hand appear on the screen. She took hold of the clip and slowly turned in to the 90o mark. I couldn't help but yelp.

"Ninety degrees," intoned the Sergeant. "Again."

Josie's hand brushed against my nuts that felt super-sensitive in their current position. Once more, in spite of myself, I felt my dick swelling. The sensation disappeared almost immediately as she turned the clip to 120o.

"Argghh!" I yelled.

"One twenty degrees," intoned the Sergeant. "Again."

I had nowhere else to look other than the close up of my now purple and heavily veined balls. The hand appeared and yanked the clip to the 270o.

"Nooooooooooooooo! Please!" I screamed. The pain was incredible – it flet like my balls were being ripped off. Up to now a part of me had been secretly enjoying the attention and experience of being captured and shown off. Suddenly this pain meant I was beginning to regret my pastime in front of the computer.

"Two hundred and seventy degrees," intoned the Sergeant. "Again."

"No – no, more, please!" I begged.

"Again," repeated the Sergeant

I screamed wordlessly as I felt every one of the last ninety degrees of turn. I felt sure that I would see my balls burst on the screen. I tried pulling backwards but it only made matters worse as it tightened the hold that the clip had.

"Three hundred and sixty!" exclaimed the Sergeant – as if it were a darts score.

As I stood there I felt my knees trembling – I thought, 'If my knees give way I'll only be held up by the balls and that will hurt even more – I must stand up straight.'

Carver's face appeared in the screen in front of my tortured nuts. She had clearly learned the little speech that she then gave. "This should be a lesson to every man who thinks that his penis and testicles are a private playground. The Purity Laws will not tolerate the misuse, outside of procreation, of these organs. Failure to comply will result in this," she indicated my swollen bollocks, "and much worse – all of which 0258223 has yet to experience. Gentlemen – you have heard how he has suffered – feel it in your own testicles and be warned!"

With that the screen went blank and the sliding panel in front of my eyes shut. I felt more insecure than ever pinned against the wall with my balls firmly trapped the other side. With a sense of relief I felt the clip being turned back and then released – there was to be no more pain. My hand and ankle cuffs were quickly removed and I was pulled back from the wall.

"No, wait!" I said. It had taken a lot of manoeuvring, one ball at a time, to get them through the wall – they wouldn't both come back through at once. I was wrong. They did and the pain was excruciating!

As I was led across the room by Josie I put my hand down to rub my painful nuts.

"Leave them alone!" Carver yelled, "Unless you want some more of the Twister. How about 450 o?"

"No," my hands shot back up and were quickly pinioned behind my back. "I take it that that was my public humiliation?"

Josie's smile reappeared, "Oh no, that's where you're going now."

"G..going?" I asked.

"Well," said Carver, "You need the public for that, don't you?"

"Make sure that his hands are fastened," said the Sergeant. I felt someone pulling at the contraption that held my wrists together. "Okay, on with the board."

Carver came forward with a notice on stiff board (it looked light so it could have been balsa wood). It had a hole in the middle and on the front was written "I was caught wanking. Balls and prick will suffer." Arrows pointed to the hole.

She turned it, so that I could only see the back, and then grabbed my privates and pulled them through the hole. I was standing with this ridiculous board framing my dick and very sore balls.

"Do you know where the Police station is," asked the Sergeant.

"Er, yes."

"And you know where the High Street is?"

"Yes." I was puzzled by the sudden general knowledge questions.

"Benson's Department Store?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because," said the Sergeant, "You will walk out of this station, to Benson's and that is where you will be on display. Do not wander from the obvious route as we will be watching on CCTV. This little device is called a Stinger," he produced a printed circuit the size of a postage stamp, "will be attached behind the board at the base of your dick. Fail to follow our instructions and you will feel a stabbing pain that will last for two seconds the first time; five the second, ten the third; and then will become constant if you disobey four times." He quickly taped the electronic device behind the board.

"Just to show you we'll demonstrate the two second burst," said Josie pressing a button a remote control handset.

"Ahhhh!" I yelled – it felt like someone had prodded my dick with a red-hot screwdriver – the pain flowed up to the very end and washed through my balls at the same time.

"Unfortunately your first stab will now be five seconds, as we can't reset it," said the Sergeant. "So do as your told or you'll get more from the Stinger."

"I'm sure, "Josie almost purred, "You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"No,"

"So," said the Sergeant, "Walk to Benson's." He pushed me towards a door that opened into a sunlit car park. "Off you go – we'll see you in a couple of hours." With that the door slammed shut behind me.

I stood for a moment – totally naked, with my hands tied behind my back and a notice attached to my penis and testicles – in a public car park with instructions to walk through the middle of town. I caught sight of a woman getting out of her car and my first reaction was to duck behind a nearby bush. I moved from out that bush faster than I'd moved in as I felt the intense pain of the Stinger for the next five seconds. By the time the pain had stopped I was halfway across the car park and desperate to get his whole experience over.

I walked through the streets towards the centre of town. It must have been about a mile and a half. Luckily the roads were not very busy at this point of the early afternoon – the strange thing was the very mixed reactions I got – most of the men simply looked the other way, as if embarrassed (though their embarrassment could not have been as great as mine!) It was the women who got me – older women gave me sidelong glances as if I were to be pitied. The younger women and girls, as young as early teens, were the most curious and the most antagonistic – particularly when they were in pairs or groups.

As I passed one group of three in their early twenties one called out, "Hey, call that thing a prick? It doesn't look worth wanking. Loser!" Her friends cackled with laughter.

I passed the Girls' High School – break was in progress – the yard was teeming with girls aged between 11 and 18. They had been standing about chatting until one spotted me.

"Look, girls, it's one of those sex people!"

"I can see his little willy!"

"What's 'wanking' mean, Miss?"

"It's something that dirty men do – and it's illegal. You need to take him as a warning, girls, men's lives are totally centred on those little giblets at the front."

"Is that what men stick in us, Miss?"

"Yes – now let's have you inside, girls. If you want to see more you'll have to go to the punishment point outside Benson's Department Store at the end of school."

I was more than pleased to have passed that spot. Then I saw Benson's ahead of me and the section of their outside wall from which four manacles hung and a large sign said "Sex Offender".

As I walked over to it one of the salesgirls came out of the shop – she was about twenty-one, had long blonde hair and a face and figure to die for. "0258223, over here. Turn round," fiddled with something behind my back and I felt my bonds fall off. I don't know what got into me, maybe the sudden freedom, maybe the sight of the wall in the middle of town – whatever it was I decided to make a run for it. I got about five metres before I felt the pain – it felt as if someone had taken a rusty, jagged bread knife, removed my prick and castrated me in one go and then stuck the knife where my privates had been. When I recovered from the shock and wiped the tears from my eyes I looked down, expecting to see a river of blood – but there was no physical damage caused.

"I believe the next one will be the constant pain," said the shopgirl in a matter-of-fact voice. "Now get over here and put your hands and feet where the manacles are."

I obeyed wordlessly and, within a few seconds, found myself spread-eagled against the side of the most popular store in town – wearing nothing but the notice board.

Within a few minutes a man of about my own age passed, "Hard luck mate!" Is what I think he said.

I was beginning to feel cold – a glance at my exposed privates showed them to shrinking to nothing. Almost an hour had passed and nothing had really happened: it suddenly struck me that this might not be too bad after all. How wrong can you be?

Three girls aged about seventeen or eighteen came round the corner – they were clearly on their way home from the High School.

"Look, Jenny – it's that pervert," exclaimed a fattish girl with short hair.

"Ah yes, Miss White said we should have some fun with him," said her giggly tall and pony-tailed neighbour who was smoking a cigarette.

"Are we allowed to?" asked their mousy-looking companion.

"Yes – it's part of him punishment that we can do as we like – so long as we don't draw blood," said the tallest, who, I noticed, seemed to be a bit too tall for the skirt she was wearing – I felt sure I could see her knickers.

"What shall we do?" asked the fatter one – she seemed to have a shirt that was two sizes too small and a bra that was not really up to the job. Folds of her tits spilt over the tops of her cups – clearly visible through the almost translucent and skin-tight blouse.

"I know, Lisa," said the mousey almost boyish looking one, "let's poke his thing." She moved right up to me. "Hey, mister, that's not much of a prick you've got, is it?"

I didn't say anything – I mean what could I say?

"I asked you a question!" A thought suddenly crossed her mind. "Would you like to see my friend's tits?" She pointed at the fat girl. "Susan, show him your boobs."

"What, these," she asked. Her hands went up to her chest and she ran them over the tops, round the clearly-visible nipples, underneath and then cupped them and gave them a little jiggle. "Big, aren't they?"

Dicks have minds of their own – mine saw the tits and started to rise.

"Ooh," said the tall girl, Lisa, "you've made his prick get bigger, Susan."

"Ah," said Susan, "would a peek at them help?" She unbuttoned a middle button on her blouse and I had a clear view of her undersized bra and the mounds of ripe flesh it was trying to contain. With a deft flick of her finger she'd released her left breast and it shot out of her shirt – the nipple pointed straight at me. "Woops," shr said as she started to replace it – but it was too late, my member had sprung to attention.

"You dirty bugger," said Lisa. "Jenny, he's gone all stiff and throbby."

"– and it's wet and slimy," said Susan.

"Just what I thought," said Jenny. She took a box of matches out of her pocket and placed one in the end of my dick with the phosphor about an inch from the end of my prick. "Let's sing happy birthday," she said and brought her lighted cigarette closer towards me.

"No, no!" I yelled as I could feel the heat of the cigarette near my shaft.

"Go on, Jenny!" yelled Susan and Lisa in unison.

She touched the end of the match and it flared.

"No, put it out!" I yelled. "Please!" I broke out into a cold sweat as I could feel the heat of the match burning towards me. I was so shocked I began to lose my erection and the match was dipping below my dick that made the flame burn brighter.

There was nothing I could do as the three girls danced around laughing and pointing. My earlier erection and excitement proved my salvation as the match suddenly slipped out and fell to the floor.

"Ah!" the three girls exclaimed in disappointment.

"Try it again, Jenny," said Susan. "Put your cigarette out on his balls."

"Noooo!" I shouted as she brought her lighted fag close to me again.

"Quick, you two – there's our bus!" yelled Lisa. All three turned tail and fled.

I was beginning to feel much colder when the shopgirl appeared again.

"Had a good time, pervert?" She caught sight of the match and cigarette end, "Someone's been busy. It's time you were going – I hear you're on the news tonight, I hope it hurt." As she leaned down to undo my ankles I had a sudden and very clear view of her perky breasts inside her shirt as they nestled in a black bra. She had to shake the manacles loose, causing her tits to swing left and right. As she stood up her head brushed against my rising prick. "Ooh," she said, "we don't learn, do we?"

With that she leaned over to my left hand and suddenly kneed me in the balls. The pain was excruciating – I felt as if I was about to be sick.

She undid my right hand and both my hands shot to hold my privates. "Behind your back!" she insisted. I placed my hands behind me, waited for them to be bound and then set off back for the police station – glad that that ordeal was over.

Little did I realise what was still in store.