Three of us sat in the Adjust Room at 9 PM waiting for Mr. Ambrose, holding out our cards. Blue cards were held by #8 and me, while #3 held a red.
The room was like nothing I'd ever seen. Dimly lit and in the center stood a set of stockades, which consisted of two steel plates that had three holes, in which a person's head and both arms could be securely locked into place in a standing position. The height was adjustable.
On one wall, there was an X-frame cross eight feet tall with rings from which manacles dangled, constructed of black painted wood with padding at the intersection of the main members. Next to the cross, resting against the wall were several wooden bars about two feet long, with restraints at each end. An assortment of whips and other flogging instruments of varying sizes hung on the wall, along with what looked like a collection of electric cattle prods.
The three us sat in the room for nearly an hour and couldn't help but look at the instruments. We knew it was likely we would be subjected to the torments of these implements, but struggled to understand how. "They said, they wouldn't punish us," said #3. She had the most to fear, with her red card.
"They said we have to determine our own appropriate punishments," I reminded her. The waiting was the worst; my imagination was starting to torture me.
Mr. Ambrose entered the room and held three leather collars, each with a ring in the front. Two had yellow bands in the center and were given to #8 and me. #3 received a red banded collar.
We remained standing and as directed, removed our tees and panties, fastened the collars around our necks and then click the locks closed, while Mr. Ambrose sat in the only chair in the room.
"Do you know why all of you are here?" asked Mr. Ambrose.
I answered first. "Because I was unfaithful to my husband." The others nodded in agreement.
"No, that is wrong. It is because two of you refused to tell the truth immediately. The other received a red card, because she lied."
We looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry," said #3.
"You may be ashamed of past behavior. All the women here were unfaithful to the men who provided their clothing, shelter, food and a lifestyle few people in the world can begin to imagine. That's up to you to atone for. The choice is yours."
The woman in the red banded collar began to sob quietly.
Mr. Ambrose continued. "It's what you do here that matters, as far as your current offenses."
He looked at the instruments housed in this room. "You shall determine how to appropriately punish yourselves. Too little will result in an upgrade of your levels of admonishment. You yellows may administer your own punishments. Red will have to request your aid for hers."
He went on to explain how various implements worked, but provided no information on what was appropriate. When asked, he replied, "As in life, it is up to you to determine that."
On the wall, I found a small handheld Taser among the larger electric shock sticks. The size of a cell phone, it had two prongs on the top. I pressed the button on the side and a flash of lightening jumped between the electrodes making a crackling sound. Trembling, I held the posts near my hand. With my eyes mostly closed, I pushed the button and felt the pulse hit me. It stung, and I felt a burning sensation. Yet as I looked at my hand, there weren't any marks. Mr. Ambrose had explained that holding the Taser gun to my flesh for a half second would cause pain and muscle spasms, but a longer period would result in loss of muscle control and disorientation.
As the others looked on, I confessed that I'd attempted to withhold information about my infidelity, and I held the stun gun up to my center of right breast. I applied the power, and the electric bolt danced across my nipple. I screamed in pain and fright. It felt like an angry wasp had just stung my sensitive areola. I stumbled, but righted myself. The other two women watched in horror, but there was no damage and the burning sensation faded quickly.
Mr. Ambrose said nothing, but instead scribbled onto his notepad. I moved to my other breast and positioned the electrode near my other nipple before applying the same shock. It hurt; it hurt so fucking bad. I stood and held the Taser to my side. "One for each of the men I cheated with."
"Do you feel this is adequate?" ask Mr. Ambrose.
"It really hurt. More than I thought I could take."
"What is important is, are you satisfied with the level of pain you're endured against the rules you broke? If you are content, then fine."
I looked at his face. It told me nothing. I glanced at the others; they looked terrified. They knew they'd have to endure at least as much. "No. I deserve more."
I moved the Taser toward my vagina and spread my legs apart. I moved the gun a few centimeters from my clitoris and squatted to brace myself from the coming jolt. I drew in a deep breath and touched the button. The crackle sounded like an explosion. The shock struck my genitalia in a blinding wave of pain. I recovered enough to press the switch once more and felt another wasp sting on the most sensitive part of my body. Tears began to roll down my face and a few dripped onto the wooden floor. I gave myself one more blast and dropped the Taser to the floor as my knees began to buckle.
"Please, no more, she's had enough" #8 wailed as tears ran down her cheeks.
"That is up to #5 to determine. Are you satisfied?"
