Date: Thu, 27 May 2010 13:18:27 +0100 From: David Ashford Subject: Six by Nigel Dean Six by Nigel Dean I hope you enjoy my little tale. Please drop me a line david.a@guyzstudio.com His eyes were cold and his face the pallor of ice. The blue judicial robes picked up a reflection from the fluorescent lighting making his face even more sinister. He looked at me, scribbled on a piece of paper then looked back. What was this man thinking ? What was in his mind ? A black robed usher got to his feet. "Please confirm your full name." "Nigel Patrick Dean," I replied softly. "Nigel Patrick Dean you are charged with the crime of urinating in a public place. Do you plead guilty or not guilty ?" Of for goodness sake all I had done was to have a discrete wee against a lamppost, dogs do that all the time. How as I to know there was a CCTV camera watching ? it was not exactly the crime of the century but the way an army of police descended you would have thought I had stolen the crown jewels. Now I was up before a judge, a mean hard looking bastard. "Guilty." The blacked robed usher sat down. A strange silence fell over the room. The gentle hiss of the air conditioning and the heavy thumping of my heart were the only sounds. My eyes began to take in every detail. there was a light brown stain high on one of the walls where the roof must once have leaked. The microphone on the brown ledge of the dock before which I stood was orange, what a strange colour. Who was this man who now held my life in his hands ? What right did he have to sit in judgment on any fellow human being ? I had only had a wee for goodness sake. What was he going to do to me ? I was about to find out. I hoped I would be allowed to pay the fine by credit card as I did not have very much cash with me. The judge fixed his icy stare on me, I felt the cold blast of chill race across the twenty or more feet between us then hit me in the face. "Mr Dean," he began, "when any person appears before this court it is a waste of my time and public money." My mouth was dry. *Just get on with it, * I thought, spare me the lecture. "But when a person of your background and education appears it is a bigger waste of society's efforts. One thing I will not tolerate is a Hooray Henry !" He paused for effect. Hooray Henry, what was he talking about ? I was not a Hooray Henry ! Just spare me the lecture, say how much the fine is then we can all go home. At the end of the day all I did was to have a piss ! "I am going to pass on you the harshest sentence the law will allow." He looked directly at me, his eyes stabbing right into my soul. "I sentence you to six." Then he abruptly stopped speaking yet continued to stare at me as if waiting for the significance of the words to register. But they could not register. Six what ? Days ? Months ? Years ? For god's sake all I did was have a piss ! "Sentence to be carried out immediately." He was speaking again. I waited for the clarification on the number six followed by the inevitable *Take him down* but neither happened. Instead as he stood to his feet this judge who had passed an enigmatic sentence simply said, "I will now rise." The black robed user ordered everyone to their feet, the ice judge turned and left through a door to his right. it was all over but what had actually happened ? What was this sentence of six ? How long had I just been given ? The prison officer who had thus far maintained a polite distance away looked at me and mouthed *Oh my god ! *He took my arm and snapped one half of a handcuff on my wrist before firmly attaching the other to himself. "Come with me." I was taken down a small flight of stairs then along a narrow corridor which ended at a grey iron door. My escort pressed a buzzer on the intercom. "Prisoner Dean for six." I still had no idea if this was six days, week, years or what. Six days probably, six weeks at the most, certainly no longer. Yet my guard had mouthed *Oh my god*. I would appeal, that was what I would do. I would get a lawyer and appeal my sentence. I was inside what I took to be the cells or court's custody area. Along both walls were more grey painted doors leading to holding cells where those convicted presumably would wait to contemplate their fate in which ever penal institution to which they were sent. There was no way I was going to mildly submit and let this happen to me, I would appeal. I refused to let myself be sent to prison for just having a piss. And what was this six ? How could a judge be so incompetent not to have finished properly dictating the sentence ? This was so completely and utterly stupid. I waited for the door to my cell to be opened but on handing me over to the gaoler the original guard from the court again mouthed some words to me, this time *Good Luck.* Luck ? Luck ? I didn't need good luck, what I needed was a damn good lawyer. I knew my rights, I was entitled to a phone call and I would use it to summons the best lawyer available. "Listen to me please," this was a new guard speaking, "and we'll get this over as quickly as we can." He sounded kind, even sympathetic or sorry for me. Perhaps after all it was only a six hour detention that was imposed on me. I had been held overnight in the police cell so another six hours would not be difficult to cope with. I actually started for the first time since my arrest the night before to feel just ever so slightly optimistic, not at ease but optimistic. Foolishly I did not stop to comprehend how my new sense of growing confidence was totally incongruous when placed against all that had so far happened. "If you make your way to the end of the hall and go through the whiter door they are waiting for you." The white door looked to be made of wood and not the heavy grey metal of the cells. It appeared harmless compared to the other portals, oh yes everything was now looking much better. The handcuff had been removed and I was invited to make my own way. "Don't bother to knock, it's unlocked ready for you." Yes, things were indeed looking better. But then those two ominous words were repeated. "Good Luck" A deepening sense of unease returned. Inside the room had the appearance of a ski lodge, generously furnished, bright and spacious but without any windows. There were two people waiting for me, I did not like the look of either. One stood immediately to my front, behind me I heard a key turn and presumed it had to be in the door through which I had just passed. I turned to look. "Stand still !" I froze. "Face the front !" The orders were barked with a ferocity that would have made any regimental sergeant major a pussycat. "Strip." Another barked command. "Naked." I would have questioned the order if I had not been so totally scared and in fear of the speaker. I knew I was going to obey without question but before I could make any move two hands reached out and took the opening of my shirt. Sharply pulling they ripped every button to tear it open and expose my chest. From behind two more hands pulled the torn garment and dragged it down my arms then forcing my hands through the still buttoned cuffs. To my front the face of my tormentor sneered in disapproval at the masculinity of my torso. I would have taken my own clothing off if given the chance but now my trousers were being ripped away in a similar way. I tried to assist by stepping out of my shoes but my tormentor crouched down to remove both the shoes and my socks leaving me standing in just a pair of underpants. I am not fantastically confident with my naked body, it's not ugly or fat or anything like that but I have always thought my cock could be a little bit longer. When I was a kid at school I was one of the first in my class to enter adolescence so the other boys were curious about my developing pubic bush, harmless enough but it felt like being teased. Shower time after PE and games was always a nervous experience. I was steeling myself for my cock being on display again, my pants being ripped off in a similar fashion to the rest of my clothing when my world went black. Form behind me hands firmly fixed a blindfold. I was no longer nervous I was totally scared. Time was moving by, it felt like an eternity but was probably for but a few brief moments. Nothing was happening, I knew I was not alone the other two were still in the room with me. They were indeed my tormentors, sent by the judge to punish me for my tiny little crime but under what law, what act of parliament was I now being punished ? And what was my punishment to be ? Standing there blindfolded and in my underpants I knew that punishment was yet to start. Six ? What was six ? I felt warm breath on my back, one of the tormentors was standing very close to me. The hairs on the back of my neck began to prick. Then within seconds the breath of the second was playing on my face. I remember thinking this man who I had seen but briefly must be shorter than it. I was fighting back the urge to scream, I was terrified to the bottom of my soul. Thoughts raced round with every possible dark imagining sneering at me. I waited to see what would happen. I waited. "Take your pants off !" The voice came from behind. Then from the front, "Now !" Instantly I obeyed trying hard in the darkness to maintain my balance. I could not see them of course but I knew my tormentors were laughing silently at me. The room was warm but I felt cold and knew my cock was not at its maximum. "Put your hands on your head.!" Another sharp order which I obeyed. I could hear movement, the tormenters I knew were circling round, looking at and examining my naked body. There were other sounds, yes I could hear other people. I did not know where they came from or how many there were but I knew there was now more than just my two original tormentors looking at me. I could hear chairs bring moved and people settling to sit in them. An audience was forming. It was hideous, a living nightmare. My crime felt a lifetime away in history, the court appearance, the judge and even the sentence were in another world. What was happening to me. A hand took my cock and held it resting in its palm. I flinched. "Stand still !" Different parts of the body are more sensitive to touch, right then my cock was perhaps the most sensitive of all. I knew the hand was rough and covered in tough skin indicating a lifetime of manual toil. The fingers closed and held it near to the head then pulled it forward stretching it as far as it would go. It hurt. "Not much of a cock." I heard a cough and a stifled snigger, both from a far side of the room. How many people were watching ? "And your balls aren't exactly big either." The hand held them and began to squeeze. On no ! But the squeeze turned to fondling which were it not for the situation could have been enjoyable in a weird sort of a way. The hand returned to my cock, two hands which began to examine my foreskin. I have a tight foreskin which does not retract, I willed my tormentor not to try. "Another tight foreskin," his voice said. "Small cocks often have tight foreskins." I don't have a small cock, yes I would like it to be bigger but it isn't small. "Small cocks tend to be associated with criminals," this was the voice of the second tormentor speaking, " I read a report about that once." I wanted to speak, "I am not a criminal," I wanted to say. "All I did was to have a piss, why are you doing this to me ?" "Yes," the person holding my cock confirmed, "those we see in here do tend to be of the smaller variety." "How big would you say it is ?" "Three inches perhaps." "Small then." The hand took my cock in a fist. "Quite thick though. Short but thick." "Cocks with tight foreskins often are, it retards the growth during adolescence. Better to be circumcised than left with a tight foreskin." My heart came close to stopping, oh my god they wouldn't would they ? Cut my foreskin off ? They would if it took their mind to do so, who ever these people were not nice. I felt faint, my legs started to give way. A sudden jolt of pain cleared my mind, my body racked in agony but my brain was fully alert. My foreskin was intact but my left buttock was in total agony. I gasped with the pain. I had been hit with something. Hit hard. Very hard. I steeled myself for another blow. "Tell me boy did that hurt ? Answer !" "Yes." It was the first time I had spoken since entering the room. "Yes what ?" "Yes Sir." A hand placed itself on my buttock right where I had been hit. What had I been hit with ? The spread of the pain felt as if it had a sizeable surface area, a table tennis bat or something like it. "How much did it hurt boy ?" "A lot Sir." "Good. I am pleased it hurt you but that was just a tiny gentle warm up." Silence. My tormentor stopped speaking. Silence. What was happening ? The silence continued for an eternity before being broken with some chilling words whispered into my ear. "I think it is now time for the judge's sentence to be carried out. It is time for you to receive your allotted punishment." Punishment ? Punishment ? Time for me to receive my allotted punishment. What did he mean ? I thought what was happening to me was my punishment. The voice whispered in my ear again. "You are going to be thoroughly punished boy, punished so you will never ever do anything like that again. Do you understand ?" "Yes Sir." The hand started again to touch my cock, it gently caressed it before cupping my balls. "When you have received your punishment perhaps you will remember exactly what your cock is for and use it a little more wisely in future. Will you do that ?" "Yes Sir." "Are you sure ?" "Yes Sir." My mouth was dry and my throat was tight. I could hardly speak. "Do you remember what the punishment was ? Do you remember what the judge ordered ?" "Yes Sir" "What did he say ? What did he say your punishment was to be ?" "Six Sir." "Yes, six. Six strokes of the cane." Oh my god ! That was what six meant. "We don't use no silly schoolboy cane here, we use a dragon borstal cane. Are you ready for that boy ?" "No Sir, please Sir." I was instinctively begging. The hand reached to hold my cock again. "Stop that. You are going to receive six hard strokes of the cane on your naked backside, six hard strokes. That is the punishment the court ordered and that is the punishment you will receive. You can take it like a man or you can take it like a whimpering child but six hard strokes it is going to be. So how are you going to take it ?" I was absolutely terrified but managed to croak the words. "Like a man Sir." A gentle squeeze on my balls. "Let's proceed with it then." Things started to go black, I knew I could not handle the pain of it all. I was sure my tormentors would spare me no mercy. Six strokes of the cane and what was it he had said about it being no ordinary silly schoolboy cane ?" There were other people in the room, yes I knew that, I had heard them and I sensed their presence. They were there to watch me receive my brutal punishment, to watch me be hideously caned and beaten to within an inch of my life. this could not be happening. But it was. Hands grabbed me firmly by the arms on both sides of my body. My brain told me to resist but resistance would have been futile. I was still blindfolded and in a world of darkness so totally reliant on my guides to steer me to my destiny. We moved but a few paces before I had brought to an abrupt halt. A hand pushed from the back of me head, to my front I felt the soft cushioning of something in before me. The words *punishment bench* came into my head, yes this was where it was going to happen. Firmly I was placed where I had to be. My arms in front of me were strapped and my legs restrained, I could not move. I could feel my tormentors checking the security of my position. I waited for the swish sound of the cane but it did not come. Instead the room filled with music playing so loud I guessed the very fabric about us was shaking. It was so strange, I recognised the music - Meatloaf. I like Meatloaf and started to listen. But I did not listen for long. The pain was excruciating ! Have you ever been stung by a wasp ? That unexpected squirt of fiery pain as the sting penetrates the skin and the pain-injecting venom hits your nervous system. This was like one hundred wasp stings placed side by side in a single perfect line. The music had drowned the sound of the cane swishing towards me but it failed to hide the scream of agony I instinctively cried out. Before I could gasp enough air to fuel the pumping of adrenaline through my body the second stroke beat me harder than the first. I twisted against my restraints but escape was absolutely impossible. With the third stroke the pain increased to several times the initial intensity, every nerve in my body was writhing with the hurt. In the darkness spots and waves of colours began to swim in front of my eyes. The fourth stroke hit but my body was shutting down its senses as a natural protection, yes it hurt but there is a level beyond which pain does not intensify it only prolongs. I remember thinking it was almost over, just two more. Number five, I gritted my teeth and steeled to hang on - it would soon be over. Number six and I passed out. I swam into a deep and swirling maelstrom descending to oblivion, my own personal black hole. The loud music faded, I lost sense of all presence save my own. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest. I just lay there, pain surging through my body. Slowly I began to regain reality. It was over. I opened my eyes. Oh no, the terrible reality restored my mind to where I was, what was happening. While I was contemplating it all, while I was putting each and every event into its proper order and place my cell door opened. The portal was filled by a guard. "The court is ready for you." "I stood up to face him." "You are pleading guilty, yes ?" "Yes," I confirmed. "Then it won't take long for the judge to pass sentence." "What will it be ?" I asked with the vivid and panicking recollection of my nightmare still a reality. "I only had a piss, that was all." "It's not for me to say, this judge is very firm but he is fair." I see. I was in a cold sweat as the real world replaced my terrible nightmare. Then two words brought it all crashing down again. "Good Luck."