He picked up his recorder and spoke into it, 'Sanction against Lieutenant Polya Maszic to be carried out on Wednesday 22nd April. Ends.' That's tomorrow, you understand. I've seen your gynaecological record, so it's a good day, I believe. Dismissed."
The interview was over and she saluted, turned in a regulation about-face and marched from the Commander's office. ------------------------------------------------------- She didn't sleep at all that night because she'd heard about the punishment of Internal Scrutiny but never witnessed it. No one had because it was carried out by one special member of the Service upon one other person in private and in a soundproof sealed room. She tried not to think what was going to happen to her but her imagination would not be silenced. She'd heard of this General Multomer. He wasn't human. He'd done dreadful, shameful things to people as punishments, both prisoners and members of the public. She felt resentment that a woman government Minister should impose such a penalty on a woman officer of the Service.
At 06:30, as usual, her Orderly came into the room with a hot drink. She didn't speak this morning because she must have received orders on how to behave today, especially. She had in her hand an envelope, which she gave to Polya. The contents were instructions on preparation for the sanction of Internal Scrutiny. Some of the instructions gave away a great deal of information about the day's proceedings.
"You may wear anything you wish but you are advised to wear very little since there could be damage or destruction of clothing in the proceedings. You should empty your bowel at least one hour before the start of the proceedings and two powerful suppositories are included. They take 40 minutes to work. Do not eat on the day of the proceedings, even if the sanction is scheduled for evening. However, you must consume at least 3 litres of water in the time before the sanction begins, mixed to half-strength with fruit juice if you wish. If the sanction is scheduled for the morning, you must still consume that volume of water, even if it means swallowing very large volumes quickly. If you wear dentures, contact lenses, a hearing aid, any form of inter-uterine or rectal device, you should remove them/it before the proceeding commence. Your sanction is scheduled for 13:00 hours on April 22." Instinctively, she looked at the clock. Nearly 7:00 am, so she had 6 hours to wait and drink water. She thought of what to wear and couldn't decide between full uniform to slow down the proceedings, or else just her bra and pants, so that there would be minimal damage to her wardrobe.
She decided eventually on a casual outfit of summer skirt, flimsy bra and blouse top, with just sandals. She worried most over the panties she should wear and decided on a pair of cream Lycra support pants. She chose those because they seemed to offer her support on the way to the sanction room, and they would give her the same support afterwards, if they survived the proceedings.
During the morning, she completed the preparations dictated by the letter and felt hungry and empty by 12:00, though her stomach gave off sloshing sounds whenever she moved quickly, so full was she of water and lemon juice.
At 12:45, a knock on her door indicated that her escort were here and she walked off with them. They marched but she walked, sauntered even, so as to appear unconcerned before her fellow officers in the compound. There were many watching but none spoke and most averted their eyes when she looked towards the. They also knew about Internal Scrutiny. ------------------------------------------------------ The door closed behind her and was locked from the outside. All sounds from the world outside ceased. In front of her was a dimly lit but attractive room with a large bed in the middle, covered with cushions. On the far wall was a glass cabinet with many different kinds of drinks, both alcoholic and soft. To the right was a door, slightly ajar, which she thought would be the bathroom. On the left was a wall with an enormous screen on which she saw herself entering the room and looking about her. A quick search around the ceiling showed at least four cameras, taking continuous pictures, she imagined.
The room seemed empty but a voice came from behind the door as it swung open.
"Come in Lieutenant. Would you like a drink of anything?" It was a calm and untroubled voice, very deep and would have been reassuring in any situation other than this one.
She turned to see a middle-aged man in a uniform, with greying hair, a kindly face and wrinkles to show that he smiled and laughed a great deal.
"I'm Viktor Multomer. Please shake hands before we begin. There may be no opportunity to observe civilised gestures once we begin." He held out his hand and she took it. A slow and firm, and not-unfriendly shake.
"I shall dim the lights further and suggest that you stand her at the bottom of the bed." She did as he said, moving a few paces nearer the huge bed. The lights dimmed further, leaving only a twilight in which she could discern black and white but no colours and not all the shapes of objects in the room.
He was behind her and she felt his hands on her shoulders, as a father might touch a grown-up daughter from behind. That was the last feeling she had of any normality.
Suddenly, all over her body "hands" took hold of her clothing and began to pull at the fabric. With hardly any apparent effort, the blouse and skirt gave way and were torn from her body, leaving her startled and semi-naked. New "hands" grasped the bra and her tight supporting pants. To do this latter, the "hands" needed to go under the fabric, and brushed against her private areas. One hand was right underneath and touched repeatedly against her lips, as if to savour the sensation for itself.
Then the pulling started and the bra came away with hardly any resistance, although the pants maintained a more determined resistance. She wished then that she hadn't worn them, after all, because they were digging into her flesh before they gave way. Which they did, of course and she was left standing naked but for her shoes.
The "hands" stretch over her shoulders and down to her breasts, where they stroked over their shapes but did not linger as a lover might have done. His hands were now not human hands. They seemed to be elastic extensions of his arms, but still covered in flesh and skin, which now reached down to her waist and then to her abdomen and further still, to her thighs. She could feel the bulk of his body against her back and shoulders as his extended arms took hold of her thighs, with hands much bigger than any human's. He was holding all the way round her upper legs, as if she were in leg-harnesses.
At the same time, she realised that other "hands" were holding her waist. Completely encircling her waist, the "hands" were compressing her slightly, taking a firm hold. Another pair of "hands" held her upper arms in the same encircling way.
"Don't try to move now, Polya, you may become twisted in my coils," came the smooth fatherly voice, "just relax Polya, and let me get to know you." She was surprised that he'd called her by her first name and somehow she felt that he might be more understanding of her fear than she'd expected.
She was lifted off the floor and rotated towards the General in mid air until her head was down and her legs held upwards. Her shoes fell off and she was now utterly naked in his coild. Other new "hands" got hold of her ankles and held them straight up in the air. In the dim light, she could make out a vaguely human form from the waist downwards but possessing many appendages like arms from its upper body. General Multomer was a shapeshifter: an alien from the galactic alliance, employed to use his species' skills as a punishment on this occasion. She wondered briefly what would happen to the rest of his body from the waist downwards, but she knew that it would involve invasion and scrutiny.
