Author's note: These are dark fantasies. Please always be kind to one another and animals too.
To this day, when I walk through the shadow of the gloomy, nondescript, block-shaped building I feel a stirring in my crotch. A certain bodily appendage is wobbling around down there, straightening and stiffening, as if it knows the things that are going on behind those concrete walls. This building is the Disciplinary Wing of the Regional Breeding Facility.
When scanned, my National Identity Chip reads out: Citizen is rated as 7B, low-level management. In accordance with this rating I have held a job as a truck dispatcher for many years. The walk from my apartment block to work takes me alongside a chain-link fence topped with concertina wire at the rear of the Breeding Facility complex that includes the block-shaped building. In the fence there is an unlabeled sliding gate with a camera, an intercom, and a button you push if you want to be admitted. A steel door provides entry into the building. I have only gone in there twice.
If you are not a citizen of the Christian Republic of America, you probably need some background information about my nation, its current situation, and our customs. Since secession five decades ago, we have been at continuous war with the barely human mixed-race vermin to our north who persist in their resistance to following God's Plan. The state of perpetual war makes life difficult. Democracy is a luxury we cannot afford until our enemies have been exterminated. This could take another five decades. We have learned, or at least most of us have, to obey our blessed leader and his government without question.
Manpower is needed to run both our military, defense, and other essential industries. The Population Growth Act of 2042 clearly states that every fertile woman must bear a child by the age of 26. Any woman who has not borne a child by age 25 receives a notice to report to there Regional Breeding Facility for a medical and psychological evaluation. If deemed necessary, they are housed at the facility and undergo an impregnation procedure. Any that resist this process are sent to the Disciplinary Wing where they undergo behavioral modification until the agree to undergo breeding under restraint.
Four years ago, during the last pandemic. I was walking past the gate I mentioned above when it began to rumble and slide sideways to the open position. A uniformed man came out and called out, "Citizen your assistance is needed. Please come here."
I explained to the man that I was on my way to work and did not have time to spare. "This is a civic duty sir. It takes precedence over your regular job. We are short-handed because of the pandemic, and we need a civilian to witness punishments and sign off on the paperwork. You really have no choice in the matter, but we can give you an official document to show your employer."
"O.K. then," I agreed and entered the building through a charmless hallway of cement floor and concrete walls with flaking paint. In the distance I could faintly hear the rattle of metal chains and the the rhythmic banging of wood against concrete. There were feminine cries nearly synchronized with each bang. I could not decide if these were cries of pain, excitement, fear, pleasure, or a mix of all of the above.
I followed the uniformed man down a second hallway and into a fairly small room with a number of furniture-like objects with leather straps, velcro cuffs, metal bars chains, hoists and so on. It was obvious the purpose of these devices was to hold people in position for interrogation and to inflict corporal punishment.
"We have four punishment orders this morning," the uniformed man I now knew as Mr. Leth said. "All I need you to do is to read the orders then after the punishment sign on the witness line, and print your name below to verify the punishment given matched the order. You may walk about the room to observe from various viewpoints. Be careful to avoid the back swing of any punishment tool. We make the subject assume several positions prior to the procedure to make sure there are no preexisting injuries. It's kind of like checking over a rental car before you drive it off the lot. We don't want to be held responsible for pre-existing injuries. Understood?"
I nodded. Leth pushed a button and spoke into an intercom. "Mueller, bring in Miss Dickinson. A short bald man entered from a different door than we had used pushing along nude young woman by poking her in the ass with a cattle prod. She did not resist, and he was not zapping her.
Miss Dickinson was very pale and very frightened. She had medium breasts with very fair pink nipples and blonde hair in a single braid down her back. She had a neatly trimmed triangle of light fur above her pussy which I had not yet seen. She seemed a very gentle person, perhaps a librarian or first grade teacher.
Leth ordered her to lift one leg point the toe and then place the foot on a low stool. Then he ordered her to bring the foot down and repeat with the other leg. Her pale thighs were fleshy, had good muscle definition, and perfect skin. I couldn't help imagining my warm semen splattering onto them. "Now, spread your legs wide, bend at the waist and hold on to your ankles," said Leth. The young woman complied and I edged around the room so I could see the gap between her pretty pink pussy lips.
Finally Leth had her go down on the cold hard floor on hands and knees and bring each leg one at a time over her back and kick her heel forward. "Miss Dickinson your order calls for 10 straps with the belt on your bare buttocks. Lay on the table face down. Mueller tightened a restraining belt around her waste, spread her legs apart, and cuffed her ankles to keep them spread. He fastened her wrists to the front legs of the table.
"Strap her slowly Mueller as I count out loud," said Leth. Miss Dickinson was trembling. "Begin!"
The smack came an instant later, and she cried out in shock. By the count of three the wails were non-stop. By five she was begging, "Please, please, please stop." By seven the words of her cries were incoherent her mouth wide open. Scream, suck in air, scream, over and over. The torment lasted only a few minutes, but they were minutes miss Dickinson would never forget.
When the punishment ended no one spoke until the sobbing subsided. "Miss Dickinson", said Leth, "all you have to do to avoid this again is to agree to be restrained in the stocks and bred. You say you oppose this on moral grounds. In fact, I hope you should now realize it is your moral duty to procreate."
"Mueller, take her to medical and then bring in Miss Wasson. It seems Rosie still has not come round to God's Plan.
Miss Wasson looked like a china doll with white skin, jet black hair, and naturally red lips. She was petite and shapely. I suspect she was a high-priced but very coarse prostitute. Even before she was dragged into the room I could hear a stream of profanity worse than anything I had ever heard come out of a woman's mouth.
Rosie's head banged open the door as Mueller and a short powerfully built middle-aged women frog marched her doubled over into the room. "I had to get Mrs. Kline and Miss Leidy to help me strip her and get her moving this way. The little bitch is a handfull," said Mueller.
"Let's get her strapped down. We'll check her for pre-existing injuries when we get her in position. Face up or face down? Civilian observer, please read the sentence," ordered Leth.
"Let's see. Ten strikes with the spatula whip on the genitalia and ten paddles on each cheek of the buttocks while suspended in the wedgie hoist."
"O.K., face up on the table, legs straight up and in the "V' position." Leth assisted his subordinates as they got the struggling Rosie flat on her back with her pussy exposed for punishment. Leth then made some final adjustments inclining the table so her her body tilted upward towards the head. He winched her legs even farther apart and pulled her ankles forward in the direction of her shoulders.
