Date: Fri, 8 Jan 2010 01:29:03 -0800 (PST)
From: Ronald Slimman <ronslimman@yahoo.com>
Subject: Part 9, My time with Randy

"Justice" is Meted Out

The `malefactor,' as Judge Lola had described the slave who had violated
the rules, was being led to the prisoner's dock on a leash by his bald,
mustachioed, somewhat pudgy master. The master of table 17 didn't seem very
imposing in his leather outfit. Number 14 wore the uniform of the day for
slaves, or `entities` by which they were also called--from collar and leash
and ball gag, through tit clamps to cock strap. His gear was the same as
mine, meaning he was almost totally nude. He had a smooth, thin, and supple
body similar to mine.

As he approached the dock, his head hung in shame. His master helped him up
into the dock, and removed the gag.

"Master of table number 17," barked Judge Lola into her
microphone. "There's another microphone on the shelf at the dock. Please
pick it up and describe to us the infraction the defendant is being charged
with."

The pudgy master picked up the microphone. "Thank you your honor... Well,
the defendant, 14, scratched its butt while on the floor next to my
table. And the slave did so without asking my permission, your honor."

"That slave didn't?... Really?" Judge Lola gasped into her microphone,
faking shock, shock at the infraction! She shook her head in a disbelieving
manner.

"Yes," the master replied, "14 did your honor, and was flagrant about it"

Addressing the malefactor, Lola asked, "Prisoner what do you have to say
for yourself?"

Without lifting his head, the prisoner 14 muttered "nuthin" down into the
microphone held toward him by his master." Shoulders slumped as well, 14
was a picture of despondency.

"Nuthin what?" demanded judge Lola, mimicking the slaves tone.

"Errr...nuthin, yer honor," answered number 14.

"Do you plead guilty or not guilty to the charge, 14?"

The head of 14 hung even lower as he mumbled, "I guess I'm guilty yer
honor."

"Prisoner 14, you will now be judged by a jury of your peers," Judge Lola
said, "pointing her gavel at the two naked and numbered hunks dutifully
standing to the side of the her bench.

She waited a few seconds, then asked her jury, "Gentlemen of the jury, how
do you find the defendant, 14, guilty or not guilty?"

The jury of two said nothing, but both together simply stretched their
right arms straight out, their hands displaying thumbs up; they then slowly
twisted their hands to a thumbs down position. The onlooking masters in the
audience feigned a loud moan, going along with the act..

"Thank you gentlemen of the jury," Judge Lola said and turned to the
defendant. "Number 14, since you have been found guilty, I must pronounce a
sentence fitting your heinous crime." She paused thoughtfully, then said,
"I am now ready to pronounce your sentence..." She then continued, "In
reality, it seems you, 14, were only a foolish accessory to the crime, and
not the true perpetrator."

Both master and slave 14 looked at Judge Lola with bewilderment on their
faces.

Lola then emphatically pointed down from the bench with her gavel toward
the slave's backside, "THAT...,"Lola emphasized in a harsh accusing tone:
"THAT...is the real culprit--your bothersome butt that needed
scratching... Its demand for scratching coerced you into breaking a
cardinal rule of this gala by not asking permission first of your
master... I therefore sentence not you, but your butt--hmmm, and a lovely
one at that, I might say--to the electric chair!" The audience broke out in
loud laughter and cheers. There was also some table thumpers expressing
their delight at the sentence.

Lola nodded toward the members of the jury, and they now became her
enablers in carrying out the sentence. They went to the closet marked,
"Implements of Justice." At first, I didn't recognize the item one of them
removed--it was flesh colored though. The jury slave paraded it about the
platform, holding it aloft to be viewed by everyone in the audience and be
picked up, as well, by the videocams.

I looked at a nearby video screen whose videocam had zoomed in and locked
on to the item. Laughter, table thumping, and now some wolf whistling, went
up from the audience. The item seemed to have been very familiar to the
onlookers; it was a molded product mimicking the lifelike part of a man's
abdomen, showing a small part of his lower belly and upper legs. And out
from the crotch area of the thing protruded a large, erect synthetic
cock. A wound-up electrical chord and what looked like a small control
console were dangling from one side of the man-toy. To say the least, it
was an impressive gadget. I couldn't help but laugh. Then I caught
myself. Glancing at Randy, I hoped he hadn't heard me laughing, since I
hadn't asked his permission to do so. But he was laughing himself and
clapping as he stared away toward the performers.

The jury slave holding the man-toy placed it on the seat of the wooden
chair that was on the platform. The other slave went to the implements
closet again and came back with a jar. He coated some of the contents from
it on to the synthetic cock so prominent in the man-toy. It was
lubrication.

The loudspeakers then began to broadcast the sound of an organ playing the
slow, eery tones of the Death March as the guilty slave's master slowly and
somberly led him to the chair. Both jury slaves carefully helped lower the
defendant on to the waiting prong of the man-toy. Anguish showed on the
slave's face as his butt was fully penetrated until he was finally seated
in place. Both jury slaves then buckled the defendant's hands and feet to
the chair, restraining him in his impaled position.

Next, one of the jury slaves fulfilled the "electric" part of what the
electric chair would do. He took one of the leads from the toy and plugged
it into an electrical outlet on the floor of the platform. He then handed
what must have been the control mechanism for the unit to the other
slave. They both then took positions before Judge Lola's bench and waited.

Judge Lola spoke up. "Before the sentence is executed, I must caution the
master of 14 that he is responsible for giving the coup de grace during the
culmination of the sentence." I knew that coup de grace meant `graceful
blow' or the final gunshot to the head of a prisoner shot by firing
squad. But I was clueless as to what it would mean in this instance.

Number 14's master nodded that he understood.

"Then let the sentence be carried out," Judge Lola declared in somber
finality...

To be continued in Part 10.

Ron Slimman
Ronslimman@yahoo.com