[A note from the author: This story forms the 8th and final part of the original Crymaker series. If you have missed parts 1 through 7, I would suggest you read those first. The ideas portrayed in this story were suggested by several readers. Andrew Goodyear, a friend, wrote the newspaper article from the Brinrick County Gazette, which I've included as part of the story since it adds so much to the storyline. -All rights reserved; Nathan]
"The End of the Crymaker...."
Michael Hanson's life dramatically improved over the rest of his senior year. He actually made a few friends, and with his release from probation the threat of the Crymaker was no longer looming over him. As a result, he slowly regained some of the confidence he had once had. His hatred for the machine never wavered though, and he felt something personal with each new boy that was strapped into its clutches and humiliated on stage. He followed all of the cases, researched their trials, and met all that he could after their punishment ordeals were over. In school, he formed a student group whose single aim was to outlaw the machine. His mom supported his actions, and while many in the community did not, they certainly were aware of his campaign and his dedication to it. He called his newly-formed student group SAFEPHAT, for "Students Against Forced Embarrassment & Public Humiliation Applied to Teens". SAFEPHAT was in the news every Saturday, where they picketed outside the County jailhouse whenever some unlucky teenager was inside getting has ass thrashed. Michael Hanson wasn't a young man in a shell; no he was the leader, the leader in a fight against teenage males being subjected to the humiliating punishment of the Crymaker. On Monday, the 23rd day of May, he managed to get himself onto one of the most popular radio talk shows in the county. Ultimately, it would be a talk show that would be remembered, if not for the show itself, for the ideas that were discussed and the terrible things that would follow.....
[Radio interview with Mr. Michael Hanson, a senior at George Washington High School and a young man with a unique insight into the state's punishment apparatus, called the "Crymaker." Michael Hanson is the self appointed leader of a student organization called SAFEPHAT, whose stated goal is the elimination of judicially applied corporal punishment. This interview was conducted on live radio by Tom Litton, talk show host of WBR606 AM radio.]
Tom: "Well, hellooooo out there...Tonight we have a special guest with us----A young man with a name many of you are familiar with, Michael Hanson. Young Hanson is an 18 year old senior from George Washington High School, and the self appointed leader of SAFEPHAT, or "Students Against Forced Embarrassment & Public Humiliation Applied to Teens. SAFEPHAT has on its agenda the total elimination of the use of the states punishment apparatus and a repeal of the Juvenile Corporal Punishment Act. Hanson has the unique perspective of having been on both sides of the machine, both as a teenage prisoner being punished for vandalism and also as a victim of an assault. The Crymaker is once again in the news, and things have certainly been heating up with the demonstrations and increasing judicial paddlings. Tonight, we will get the reaction of one guy who has come all the way from the bottom (laughter) to be with us today....Stay tuned, and we will begin after this commercial break....."
(commercial)
Tom: "Mike, thanks for coming. I know many of our listeners have been watching your picketing on the news, and I'm sure more than a few think you're just a kid with a sore ass and an ax to grind. How would you respond to that?"
Michael: "Well, I've had the sore ass, thanks to that machine, and I certainly will admit that. But our organization isn't my personal agenda really, and we have a lot of support from people that have been through it as well as from people that have watched what it can do. SAFEPHAT is just totally against abuse, weather it occurs in the home, or at school, or through a judicial court system. And make no mistake, the Crymaker is a machine that dishes out abuse. We have to repeal the JCPA, and we have to do it now."
Tom: "Well, I can see you're a young man with an agenda. I think many of our listeners are happy with the results though and you have to admit that juvenile crime had been reduced all across the board. In just three years crime rates are down well below half of what they used to be, and most citizen groups are happy knowing kids that play are going to pay."
Michael: "Well, that is only partially true. Our organization is supported not just by teenagers--we have a lot of parents and older adults that think this act and these machines are going way to far. When you punish someone the way they are doing it, it comes at a cost. Make no mistake, this machine is a machine of torture, and I can attest to its effectiveness. When coupled with the states probation requirements, the state literally owns the teenager that it punishes. The state controls what he does, what he can do, and what he's allowed to do. It cuts into your soul, and nothing matters after you meet the machine. It fills your every waking moment forevermore, and everything you do can be reported back to the states punishment probation division. At night, you close you eyes and the nightmare returns. Night after night after night. Even if the machine didn't torture, which it does, the probation and follow up treatment is terribly wrong and could easily drive someone to suicide. In Roosevelt County there has already been one suicide attempt attributed to the aftermath of a state sponsored judicial paddling, and we sure don't need another."
Tom: "Some would probably argue that keeping a close eye on bad kids is a good idea. Why does your organization object to paddling kids that do bad things?"
Michael: "Its not that simple. It's all of it--the entire process we object to. First, the pain. It's not a paddling. It's a crushing beating on your ass, and when that machine finishes with it you don't even feel like you have an ass left. You certainly can't sit on it. The burn is so intense that it cuts all the way to the core of your soul. Anyone that has had to suffer through that pain will tell you that there is no greater pain on earth. The paddle is relentless, and it smacks hard and deep and without mercy. Each stroke is worse than the one before it, and as the pain builds you will do anything to escape. But you can't escape. It doesn't matter if you beg, or cry, or if you were just a little wrong or made just a little mistake. When that paddle hits you, it drives that oak board so hard it feels like it's going to go right through your ass and cut you right in two. The speed it's moving at is so incredibly fast that the impact rocks the entire stage. No one should ever have to feel anything hit them that hard. Not ever."
Tom: "Are you trying to say paddling a teenager delinquent isn't fair?" (laughter)
Michael: "That's exactly one thing I'm saying. The machine isn't fair. I received 29 strokes of that _d_a_m_n_ oak board for throwing a paint can and screwing with an automobile. Some kids have received half of that for doing a lot more, and other kids have had more even though they have done almost nothing. Punishments are arbitrary, and some guys receive one sentence and someone else receives a different sentence for the same crime. This is wrong!"
Tom: "Well, you weren't out vandalizing your school anymore were you?"
Michael: "I'll give you that point, no....I wasn't. But then, I wasn't out doing it before that either. I made a mistake, OK. But God, the punishment was way out of proportion to what I did."
Tom: "So, you say the victims aren't treated the same? Is that what you're saying here?"
Michael: "Yes, that's one thing I'm saying. And that's one of the things that makes the machine so abusive. When I was a victim I let my attacker go home with a single hit. Some guys have gotten off with no additional hits, while others have gotten another full set, leaving their asses nothing more than smashed up pieces of meat that aren't that much different than ground up hamburger. When your ass it turned into hamburger, it takes weeks to heal. The punishments aren't the same, they aren't consistent, and they aren't fair. If you have a dad in the jail system or a friend in the victim list you can get off with only a fraction of what someone else without connections faces. The inconsistencies of the program are in themselves enough to warrant pulling the plug now!"
Tom: "Well, sounds like teenagers need to be careful whom they piss off?" (laughter)
Michael: "It's not very funny when it's your ass on the line."
Tom: "(laughing some more) I'm sure its not. But I have to admit to you that I don't have a lot of sympathy for a kid that shoplifts and then has to face the store owners and ends up with a red ass. Frankly, he deserves to get his ass smacked, and I think many of our listeners are glad when it actually happens."
Michael: "Well, if that was all that happened I wouldn't probably disagree. But he doesn't just get his ass smacked. He gets his ass pulverized, every muscle fiber smashed by the impact of that heavy oak board striking his ass. The paddle isn't just swung into your ass, it's literally fired with a hydraulic push that causes it to impact with a force I just can't really put into words. It goes into motion with a BANG....its so loud it echoes through the entire auditorium. And when it hits...Oh GOD. When it hits...it hits with a CRACK that well,...once you hear that CRACK you never, ever forget it. And the paddling isn't the worst of it, as bad as it is and painful as it is. No, the poor guy strapped into that thing has to be humiliated too, and that's worse than the paddling. First, he is forced to be stripped naked in front of families, brothers, sisters, moms, sometimes girlfriends, and sometimes his school friends or his school enemies. Next, the _d_a_m_n_ machine forces you to bend over and perk your own ass up in the air, almost like you were begging to get paddled. God that's embarrassing! Then, they do the ultimate thing to humiliate you. They hook up the machine to your penis for God's sake, and they make it so the machine takes it and then plays with it, right in front of everyone that is watching. No one can condone a machine that plays with the _s_e_x_ organs of the person being punished. Anyone who thinks that is not abusive just doesn't understand reality. We at SAFEPHAT feel that the state has turned the entire punishment session into a sadistic ritual."
Tom: "Well, from the callers and the letters to the editor, its apparent that a few people feel that way. But I think a lot more are glad we punish teens that cause problems. And as for the abuse, isn't the reality of the situation that the machine only holds the penis of the male strapped into it, and the, what do they call it, the "humiliation ring" only moves if the prisoner moves and puts the ring in motion?"
Michael: "Everyone gets hard in the machine....to imply guys do it to themselves is just not reality."
Tom: "But you got more than just hard didn't you?" (laughter)
Michael: (hesitation) "Yeah...well...ok..._d_a_m_n_. (eyes tearing some) Give me a minute here....its still well, rather difficult to talk about. But yes, most guys.....almost everyone that is strapped into the machine...well, yes, most guys...most ejaculate sometime during their punishment."
Tom: "That's very difficult for you to discuss isn't it?"
Michael: "Yes. It's the most humiliating part of the machine. It's not just that you do it...but people see you do it. And they laugh when you do it. And well, that's the most embarrassing thing. They are laughing at you while you're getting close and trying desperately not to and then you do it anyway, and when you do they laugh some more. The state should not allow, much less force, anyone to perform a _s_e_x_ual act as part of a punishment protocol. The humiliation ring should have been outlawed from the beginning."
Tom: "Whoa....slow down there. I've had the state administrator for police affairs, Mr. Travis Ward, on this very program and I don't think he would agree that they are forcing anyone to do a _s_e_x_ act. In fact, he explained the protocols and even told this audience that the entire machine was designed by a team of psychologists. The facts are that the machine doesn't masturbate you, and we need to be clear on that here. All movements of the humiliation ring are self-induced, and only by the person in the machine deciding to move will any friction of the ring be applied. So in a very real since, the guys strapped into the machine choose to take their individual actions that ultimately result in their own _s_e_x_ual release. The fact that people are there to witness it is...well, it's too bad isn't it?"
Michael: "No. No. NO! To say that people...hell, to say that I masturbated myself just isn't true. I don't buy that argument. You can't help it. You cant, and God knows I tried. The facts are hidden by the state, but they can't hide the truth of what they are doing. Since the state established the pre-punishment holding policy, where the offender is held in the jail and forced to abstain from any _s_e_x_ual release until he is punished, virtually 100% of the teens put through the machine unwillingly achieve _s_e_x_ual orgasm sometime during their punishment. You asked for facts. Well, state wide 836 teens have been punished on the apparatus since the JCPA became law. In Brinrick county alone, the number is 174, and will be 175 by the end of this upcoming weekend. Every one of them have suffered the indignity of this punishment. Except for 12 in the very first months of the program prior to the holding policy, all of them ejaculated in front of the witnesses. All of them. In fact, some more than once. So, it's certainly a planned part of the program, and its abusive, embarrassing, and frankly, humiliating. Our organization feels quite strongly that when you think of it, and realize what they are being forced to do, this is a state sanctioned form of _s_e_x_ual assault on the boys in the machine. Its abuse, plain and simple, even when it's being done by a machine."
Tom: "Wow...I hadn't realized those were the numbers. There are those that feel that your organization is mainly the wishful thinking of teenage guys wanting to get out of being held accountable for things they do wrong. Would you agree, at least to some extent?"
Michael: "Tom, that's a fair question, and I would like to say with certainty SAFEPHAT is not a organization of teenage guys trying to avoid punishment. Our membership is over 2500 now and growing everyday, and we have two state senators and 4 county representatives that have publicly acknowledged that they agree with our platform. In fact, some of the people who would most certainly be our strongest spokesmen, can't speak out, as their probation hangs over their head like a noose, waiting to punish them again if they so much as look the wrong way."
Tom: "So Mike, you feel that corporal punishment is wrong, even though it has helped this community and made this a much safer place to live?"
Michael: "Actually, this may surprise you, but SAFEPHAT is not against corporal punishment totally. We acknowledge that when used by a loving parent to punish a wayward child it can serve a purpose. But when sanctioned by the state, and accomplished by an unfeeling machine that literally pulverizes an ass with the firing of a hydraulic fired paddle into the bare buttocks of a naked boy, it crosses the line of sanity. When you add onto that punishment the forced _s_e_x_ual manipulation of a boys most private and personal possession, his penis, while being watched by audiences that have exceeded 200 people, you have crossed the line that defies sanity. We have to stop this now. We do. All of us."
Tom: "Well, I don't really know what to say about that. But, looking at the clock, we are almost out of time here tonight, and I can say that this has been very interesting. So, you and your organization are gong to be picketing again this weekend?"
Michael: "Yes, we will. We will be there on Saturday, and every Saturday, whenever they strap anyone into that machine and then turn on their torture device. On the 28th we will be in front of the county jailhouse from 11am until the punishment is over. A young lad, a boy named Cody, is going to have to face the machine. He is barely 14. On Saturday, the state is going to abuse him. We will be there--right out front of the jailhouse. You can count on that. He was simply a kid playing on a skateboard, and why he is here and what the courts were thinking is just incomprehensible to SAFEPHAT. I had the opportunity to talk with him, and I can tell you he is one very scared kid, and rightfully so. This whole thing is just sooo wrong--it's a travesty of everything civilized."
Tom: "Well, he was convicted in a court of law, and there are those that would argue he is going to get exactly what he deserves. And sending him home with a red ass might be just the thing he needs."
Michael: "Maybe. Some people probably do feel that way. But anyone saying that has never felt the paddle. There is no way you could feel that paddle even for a single hit and still feel that way. No way. Hell, the paddle moves so fast you cant even SEE IT MAN. It's just a blur. A _d_a_m_n_ BLUR! No, it's abuse, plain and simple, and its wrong. I feel for Cody. I really feel for him, and I wish to God his weekend was somehow going to be different than it is. He's going to go home with a lot more than a red ass."
Tom: "Well, time is up, and I guess we will have to leave it with that thought. I appreciated your comments, and really thank you for coming in and being so frank with your views. Its obvious your organization has a log of ideas, although I still would be reluctant to go back to things like they were.....oh...got to cut for one commercial here. Mike, again, its been a pleasure, and we do thank you for appearing. Now, folks, after the commercial break, we will be moving to the CZ's Top 40 Countdown....so stay tuned to WBR channel 606............................"
A lot of the people in Brinrick county had listened in on the program, and there minds were starting to think and beginning to wonder if the state punishment machines had a darker, less acknowledged side. Michael Hanson had stirred the pot with the radio show on Monday, and there were more than a few people still talking about it the following morning over breakfast. And if the talk show had been the only thing that had happened that week it might have been forgotten. But it wasn't...and when the population of Brinrick County set down for breakfast on Friday morning, they opened the newspaper and received their second shock of the week...
BRINRICK COUNTY GAZETTE FRIDAY 27rd OF MAY SECOND TEENAGE SUICIDE ATTEMPT TIED TO 'CRYMAKER' PUNISHMENT
Clermont(AP)...A second male teenage suicide attempt has been connected with the aftermath of a JCPA punishment routine. David Stockridge, 16, was found unconscious in his bedroom by his mother, Shirley Stockridge, 42, on Thursday afternoon. The youth was rushed to Mercy General Hospital where tests showed he had ingested an overdose of alcohol and prescription tranquilizers. Stockridge was treated and reported in fair condition. He left a suicide note describing his misery after suffering his JCPA Court ordered punishment before an audience which included his parents, younger sister, and the couple whose garage he burglarized. Stockridge had been convicted of theft in connection with a lawnmower taken from a neighbor's garage. The youth claimed to have had permission to borrow the appliance, however, the owner said that was not true and pressed charges. The youth was sentenced to 20 strokes with the State Punishment Apparatus. He actually received 10, the rest being remanded by the injured party. In his suicide note, Stockridge, a straight-A student and class president at his local high school, claimed that life had become "unbearable" since the punishment. He was allegedly subjected to relentless taunts and some threats from his fellow students. This is the second attempted suicide attempt in the past 11 months attributed to state mandated punishment probationary policies. Last April in Roosevelt County a 15 year old boy cut his wrists two months after receiving 17 strokes of the paddle. Michael Hanson 18, one of the first teenage males to suffer the naked and _s_e_x_ual humiliation the apparatus provides, said this latest incident only reinforces his conviction that the damage to boys by this machine constitutes abuse. Hanson, founder of SAFEPHAT, an anti-JCPA organization, expressed his concern to Stockbridge's parents and visited the youth in the hospital. Stockridge has been admitted to Mercy General's psychiatric in-patient clinic for evaluation.
After the newspaper article, the state was scrambling for the rest of Friday. It was one of those end-of-the-work weeks where the phones were ringing and the calls were flooding in. People were starting to get nervous. The officials were all hoping things would quiet down over the weekend, and they made plans for Monday to start emphasizing to the press all of the good that the JCPA had done for the communities. Things had to start improving. But instead of improving, things were about to go from bad to worse.... Saturday morning.....
Cody Sorenson was just a typical 14 year old kid. He was a tough kid though, and he didn't cry easy, rarely got upset, and normally didn't let too many things get him down. In school his grades weren't anything to brag about, but they weren't bad either, and his parents basically left him alone as long as he kept them where he did. Parted down the middle, his blond hair covered his eyes when his bangs slid down his face, which was about half the time. The other half he would jerk his head with a flip and force his hair to part, an action that was partly out of necessity and partly out of just well, being cool. About half the time he wore a baseball cap, backwards of course and just slightly _c_o_c_k_ed to the side. If he didn't have his hat on then he was wearing his sunglasses up over his head, to hold his hair parted. Cody was a lot like his friends, but he was still waiting for his big growth spurt to kick in. He was thin, and a little scrawny, and what most people would refer to as a "late bloomer." He had no facial hair, not even on his lip, and had never picked up a razor in his life. The hair under his arms was yet to come. Still, things were beginning to happen with is body--he had his first wisps of pubic hair beginning to sprout and his dick, while certainly lacking the thickness and solidity of an older youth, it nevertheless was beginning to be a little more pronounced and was starting to look impressive enough that he was hopeful something would happen there soon. He had heard about masturbation, and even tried it a few times, but while it always felt good it hadn't seemed that much to get excited about. Nothing had come out yet, and he certainly hadn't experienced THE FEELING. Unfortunately for Cody, that was about to change.
He had found himself arrested because of one stupid neighbor. He hadn't done anything his friends hadn't, it was just that Mr. Erik Fletcher didn't like him, or his friends, and with his buddies on the police force he had decided to get them, and he had. Cody loved to skateboard. He lived for it. As soon as he got home from school, he and his friends would get out their boards and skate all over the empty parking lot of their apartment complex. It wasn't a huge lot, with only about 30 apartments in the building. Nevertheless, it was home, and the surface was smooth and the skating was hot. As 5 o'clock rolled around the working class people started to return from work, and the lot would begin to fill. There were pickup trucks, Nissan Centras, Ford Torises, etc, and as each vehicle took up a spot Cody and his friends rode around the obstacles. Each spot was covered, and the combination of vehicles and support poles combined with a little teenage imagination and they had one of the greatest skateboarding parks in the country. They would even occasionally set up wooden ramps, and try all of the tricks of the trade, trying to outdo one another. They certainly weren't malicious, and they just wanted to play. Occasionally, as they tried a 180, or a 360 or a "Grab" or an "Olie" they would lose it, and their board would shoot out of control and have to be retrieved. It always came with laughter from your friends. Sometimes the boards would shoot out and fly into open space. Sometimes, well, sometimes they would impact a parked vehicle. When that happened there was a lot of OH.._d_a_m_n_...and a quick look-see and then a closer examination of the hit. Sometimes it would leave a mark, but more often it wouldn't. But a lot of the neighbors were mad about the low dents that the boys seemed to be creating, and some even had spoken to their parents. They boys weren't trying to cause problems, but there wasn't anywhere else they could ride.
Cody had four friends and they played every single day. Sometimes they hung out at the pool, sometimes in his parent's apartment, and most often in the parking lot, riding their boards hour after hour. Cody loved the Van shoes he wore, and his white socks and shorts that hung baggy, just over the knees. Coolness was part of being 14, and he was always wearing the latest in the "in thing." Cody was actually a really good kid, but he sometimes acted a little "punk" when he was with his friends, and that drove his mom nuts. But while 3 of his 4 friends smoked, Cody didn't, as sports were important to him and he didn't want to screw up his body. At school he played soccer, and while it wasn't as kewl as boarding, he nevertheless enjoyed playing.
For Erik Fletcher, the kids drove him crazy. Cody especially, as he really didn't like the punk rocker look, always trying to be more cool than the next. He mostly hated the fresh dings on his almost new car, and he had watched the kids pop their boards and he had seen the fresh paint scratches on his car, and others. But nothing seemed to stop them. He had yelled at them himself, and he had even talked to one of their parents without anything happening. Finally, he decided to do something himself and catch them red-handed. So, he set up his video camera, and secretly taped the boys playing. It didn't take long....Cody came zipping up a ramp, tried to pop his board to cause it to spin in the air, and instead crashed and his board flew out and up....smashing into a vehicle and making a scratch at the lower part of the right door. Cody laughed, as did his friends, and he examined the scratch and saw it wasn't a big deal. One of his friends was laughing, and then Cody took his board and gently tapped it against the same car....on purpose, just to prove to his friends that it wasn't that big of a deal. That was all Erik had needed, and with his tape in hand he had called the police and waited in glee for their arrival. The police of course had wanted to just talk with the boys and send them home, but Erik had demanded they do more. He was claiming the damage was clearly expensive and damming, and he had caught the perpetrators red handed and on tape. He had added short scenes from all of the dented cars on the end of the tape, which led the viewer to link the actions of the boys with all of the dents, weather they in fact had made them all or not. The police had reluctantly agreed to file charges, although the tape only fingered Cody, and so the other boys were eventually freed.
After that, the prosecutor had initially recommended that Cody be required to pay the owner of the vehicle any costs associated with repairing the scratch and to refrain from boarding for 6 months. Unfortunately, Mr. Fletcher had heard about the plea offer, and had gone ballistic, confronting the authorities and pushing them to take care of this matter and treat it more seriously than it probably deserved. Erik was a good friend of the vice chief at the police station, and he cashed in a few chits to get Cody punished. He wanted an example made of the boy in order to send a message to his friends. The result, Cody Sorenson was remanded to county court, and there, with the video tape hanging over him as evidence, he was forced to plead guilty to the charges, and to received his sentence. The judge had felt bad for Cody, and had tried to spare him a visit to the Crymaker. But under the JCPA he didn't have a lot of options, so he gave him a break in the only two ways he could. First, he gave him a sentence far less than the max. Second, he figured that with 30 apartments, and a total of 10 cars in the complex with dents in them, that 10 victims would insure that Cody would be spared most of the second half of his punishment. He knew from prior experience that 10 victims would never all agree to punish this boy too severely, especially since they couldn't be sure he had caused their dents. The judge wasn't too far off on the first count, and in fact the lighter sentence might in the end have saved his life. But on the second idea, he totally miscalculated. The problem was that the 10 victims he named not only didn't care much about Cody or the dents, they didn't care much about any of it. And so, they didn't go at all. That left only a single victim to hold the keypad and decide Cody's fate, and that victim's name was Erik Fletcher.
At the sentencing hearing, the judge had looked at Cody, and spoke with a soft voice, almost like a father speaking to a misbehaving child: "Cody Sorenson, you need to be a lot more careful of what you do. You have been careless and negligent, and as a result you have damaged private property throughout your apartment complex. You have damaged vehicles and disgraced your family. Cody, I like you. I am not going to require your incarceration prior to your punishment, but you need to show up and take what you have coming to you. On this Saturday, at noon, you are to be taken to the Brinrick County jailhouse and arrive no later than 11am, where you are to be stripped of your clothing, and to be placed upon the state punishment apparatus. There, you are to receive 2 strokes at maximum force, laid upon your bare and exposed buttocks, followed by an additional 7 strokes at the willing and majority consent of the victims. May you set an example for others that outright carelessness and gross negligence will not be tolerated, and may God have mercy on your ass." And with that, he had been taken away, fingerprinted, and then released. After that, it had been a long week, and now, here he was...
Cody was led down the hall and was soon staring at the huge machine, evil looking, waiting for him. He swallowed, and looked at the guards holding his arms, hoping for some sign, perhaps a smile or anything for encouragement. But they were all business, and he realized this was something he couldn't very well get out of. He was scared, but determined too---he just wasn't going to tear up over this thing, and somehow, well, somehow he wasn't going to let it take away his coolness. It wasn't much of a plan, and at 14 he wasn't a match for its reputation. But he was determined, and determination can do a lot.
Immediately the guards went to work, and Cody was told to remove his Van sneakers and step into the pair of boots that were staring at him from the machine. He looked at them, the way they were mounted to the machine, and he realized that once he was wearing them he was pretty much going to be at the mercy of this mechanical monster. Nevertheless, staring at the guards, he wasn't stupid, and his options at this point were pretty much non-existent. So, he kicked off his sneaks, and stepping forward, he dropped his feet into the boots and watched as the guards secured them. Once his feet were locked in place, the guards took his two arms by the wrists, and then attached two leather wrist cuffs, each also hooked to the machine. Wow. Yeah, the machine had him now, and it was pretty scary. "Oh man, what's that??? Oh geez, the scissors! Hey, I could have taken my clothes off man...don't...hey...let me take off my shorts...don't cut em off! Hey...they are expensive! Hey..." It didn't matter....the guards had done this so many times they knew exactly what they were doing and they weren't wasting any time doing it. One guard worked on the right leg of his shorts....another guard cut up the left side. Then, with a single pull, and off they came! There he stood, in his foodball jersey top and his Joe Boxers. "Oh...please...don't cut the shirt....I'll take it off...OK...please...." But they didn't even hesitate, and instead they cut right up his shirt back and out the two sleeves, letting his shirt fall to the floor. His red boxer shorts with the cool waist-band was all that he had left....and then........oh NO....they were GONE!
Cody was in shock....wow...totally naked! NAKED!!! He had never really been naked in front of anyone, at least not since he could remember anything. In school he was one of the fast changers, and even in gym he always changed his shirt first so it could hang down and partially cover him before he had to change his pants. He normally skipped the showers...they weren't required and most of the guys didn't take them anymore. And even when he went swimming and had to change his suit after coming out of the pool, he would dry off first and get his shirt on before he slipped down the suit. But not NOW! Wow....he was standing there....and they were staring at him....looking at him....and it was the scariest feeling he had ever had.
The guards stood back for a minute just staring at him, and he looked down at the floor ashamed at his nakedness.
"Hey cute guy, nice little dick......(laughter)"
"God Joe, this kid doesn't even have any hair. Jeze....looks awefully small to be getting his ass whacked in this thing. God his dick is little!"
"Well, maybe so....but this little dickless punk still needs a red ass, so I guess we had better get him ready....(more laughter)"
Cody stood helpless....and was so ashamed. He knew he was underdeveloped...most of his friends already had a good patch of pubic hair, and most of them were a lot stronger looking than he was. _d_a_m_n_....why couldn't they do this without stripping him. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life...and man, he had the feeling like he was going to cry....but he never cried....never. Just before he might have lost it, he heard a whirring noise, and suddenly the machine started making him move, forcing his legs slowly apart, further apart, and then his arms, up...up and out, spreading him open with his arms and legs spread wide, still standing in front of the 4 guards.
One of the guards said "Hey bud....nice little body.....not bad for a punk. Hope your ready to get your ass paddled right off!" The other guard said "OK...lets finish this so we can get to the crying part." (laughter)
Then, without any warning, one of the guards grabbed Cody's little _c_o_c_k_ and grabbed a bottle of baby oil, squirting it out and onto his dick! Cody was surprised....he hadn't heard about any baby oil....and as he watched his dick being held and manipulated and the oil put on it he was getting some strange feelings in his crotch. No....oh please....don't go hard on me... Oh _d_a_m_n_. _d_a_m_n_. As he watched, staring down at his crotch and watching the guard hooking him into the machine, he also watched his own dick rising to the occasion almost as if it was eager for it all to begin. _d_a_m_n_!
Cody watched the rubber ring....the guards suddenly saying "_d_a_m_n_ Joe..._s_h_i_t_...we need the number 1 size ring...this kid's dick is so thin this ring isn't going to work."
Then, after a few minutes, someone produced another rubber ring, and they started changing it out with the one on the machine. Finally, they had it done, and then it was soon placed over his dick, and slid down his shaft and up against his balls. He couldn't believe his dick....jutting out and up....a real stiffy and as he watched them hook him into the machine he was more embarrassed than he had ever been in his life. He watched them attaching the mechanical arms to the sliding ring, and then as they adjusted the bob weights he saw how it worked, and looked at the ring glistening in the lights...just a ring of rubber, almost dripping in baby oil, gripping his dick and moving, moving up and down if he so much as wiggled in his restraints. The guards laughed...and one of them said "For a little kid his dick sure is hard!" Then they laughed again. For Cody, the little ring glistening with oil and grabbing his dick was the most humiliating thing that had ever touched him. In only a few minutes he had not only lost his shyness, but his _d_a_m_n_ dick had shot straight out and up, and there wasn't anything he could do to control it. For the very first time in his life he had an erection that someone else was looking at. Oh NO!
He looked around the room. Just behind the machine he saw the mirror...and in the mirror he could see his back, standing in the lights. He could hear noises from behind the blue curtain in front of him, and he knew, he KNEW, that in only a few minutes he was going to be on display, in front of everyone. If only he could get his dick to go down!
Then, one of the guards came up to him, and started to speak: "OK, Cody, there are people out there that you know. Every family in your apartment complex was invited and about a third of them showed up. So, there are a few people you might recognize (laughter). As for the victims whose cars got dented, there is one guy in the front row who showed up for your punishment....so remember, you better impress him cause he controls what happens to your ass today. You are going to get the 2 strokes of your mandatory sentence, and then you will be given 3 minutes to blabber an apology to him. Better make it good, cause after you say whatever you want to then he gets to tell the machine how many more times to paddle that white ass of yours. So, don't piss him off if you want to have an ass left....hey...have fun now...and enjoy the ride." Then the guard winked at him, and laughed.
Then, all the guards walked out, and Cody was alone, held by the mechanical monster, spread eagled, with his little dick sticking straight up, gripped by a glistening ring of rubber that was at this moment resting against his ballsack. Then, he heard a speaker, and he jerked with a start when he heard it, forcing the rubber ring to slide up and down his _c_o_c_k_. No!
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. CODY SORENSON, MALE, AGED 14, HAS BEEN SENTENCED BY THE COURT OF BRINRICK COUNTY TO 9 STROKES ON HIS BARE BUTTOCKS FOR HIS WILLFUL DAMAGE TO PRIVATE PROPERTY. FOLLOWING THE FIRST 2 STROKES, THE PRISONER WILL BE GIVEN THE OPTION TO SPEAK, AFTER WHICH EACH OF YOU WHO WERE VICTIMIZED BY THE PRISONER, MAY INPUT THE NUMBER OF STROKES YOU FEEL HE STILL DESERVES, IF ANY. YOUR INPUTS WILL BE AVERAGED, AND YOU MAY REMAND ANY PORTION OF THE REMAINING SENTENCE. ADDITIONAL STROKES CALLED FOR, IF ANY, WILL THEN BE ADMINISTERED. PUNISHMENT WILL NOW COMMENCE."
Then, the curtain parted! Cody was really surprised---WOW! The room was full of about 45 people....and he knew almost all of them! There, in the first row, was Mr. Fletcher, the jerk who had put him here. And no one else! He was the only guy who had a keypad....the only one! Oh wow...there were his best friends...all of them! Tim was there...waving at him. _d_a_m_n_, his parents had made him come. He saw several families he knew...and the kids too. Guess they want him to be an example. God all his friends were staring at him...and there eyes were as wide as his. Suddenly, he blushed red, thinking of his dick, there, jutting out and all of them looking at him, and IT. Oh please. And his friends from school....WHY....why did they have to see him like this? This was a nightmare, that's just what it was. And he was suddenly dizzy.....the floor tilting....this couldn't be happening.......but it was.
Then, he heard another whirring noise, and while everyone watched....the families....his friends, and even Mr. Fletcher, the machine began to force him to move. His arms were slowly drawn forward, pulling his entire body forward, and as that happened he was being forced over the bar that ran above his dick, in turn forcing his butt up and out. The machine kept pulling, and his butt was soon sticking straight out....almost perched. Then, he felt an additional bar slowly come down on the small of his back, forcing him to arch his back and perch his butt up even higher, almost like he was begging to be paddled. His butt was stuck out now, his face leaning out towards the crowd. Cody was freaking....this was so embarrassing, and he could see most of the people were smiling as his body seemed to be eagerly getting itself into position maximizing his exposure for the paddle. Then slowly, very slowly, things went from bad to worse, as he started moving his legs apart...inch by inch. Oh no.....his ass, so exposed, all perched up, and now with his legs open it was like he was literally begging to get it smacked. He looked over his shoulder, and there in the mirror he could see it....his snow white ass, his little balls, all hanging down and visible to everyone. He watched his own asshole, saw it cinch closed and his butt just begging to be hit. And there, there was THE PADDLE!!! Oh wow...man was it huge. So heavy looking...hooked to the hydraulic cylinder, just waiting to jump into motion. Waiting....waiting for HIM!
Cody was struggling too, trying to keep the machine from spreading his legs further apart, and as he did so he bucked his hips trying anything to get loose and to get away from what was about to happen. Oh no...with his movements the sleeve around his dick was in motion, and as it moved up and down his shaft a look of total embarrassment turned his face beet red. And while he watched, the crowd burst out laughing, laughing at his little dick, laughing at the ring that was moving up and down it, and laughing at his butt eagerly sticking up and begging for the paddle! This couldn't be happening, but it was! Then, almost imperceptible, was a click, followed instantly by a BANG and immediately after that a CRACK, rocking through the entire auditorium. With the sound the paddle literally blurred its way right into the boys ass. And with the CRACK, came a burn....a tremendous, long, agonizing burn that just instantly covered his entire ass, flashing across it in a wave of pain that seemed to have no beginning and no ending. His eyes flushed with tears....his mouth flew open with the impact of the board, and an "Ohhh" slipped out of his open mouth. The room tilted.....the crowd seemed to blur. And oh the pain the pain the pain.....oh _d_a_m_n_ it hurt soooo bad!
Without realizing it, Cody had jerked his hips when the paddle slammed into his ass, and the ring was now riding up an down his thin _c_o_c_k_ like a locomotive moving under full steam. He felt it, felts its motion, and as his eyes watered he began to feel something unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was intense, deep, and primal, and for the boy he felt the feeling and like countless males before him, began to concentrate on it, wonder about it. Was he going to pee? What was happening?
Meanwhile, the crowd watched and laughed. With only a single hit Cody's ass had gone from snow white to flame red, and for most of the kids and for about half of the parents it was something to watch and enjoy. For the rest, a look of horror struck them, as the machine attacked the small boy in its grip, humiliating him and hurting him at the same time.
BANG---CRACK! Oh NO....another "Ohhhwww" out of his mouth, his mouth agape, eyes watering. No real tears......somehow the stubbornness of the kid who loved to skateboard kept them in check. But his ASS! Oh his ASS! The pain....it was rising to a level he didn't feel he could contain....burning deep and with a vengeance that he was totally unprepared for. He was struggling, begging; BEGGING for it to stop. And that ring....his dick.....oh his dick was feeling sooooo weird.....soooooo good, and the entire tip seemed to be growing with the intensity......
Then, the first two strokes delivered, the speaker came to life as he looked out on the crowd, all eyes staring at his nakedness, his ass already flame red and his dick glistening as the baby oil shone in the lights. "TWO STROKES DELIVERED...PRISONER HAS 3 MINUTES TO SPEAK"
With the microphones next to his face activated, he suddenly could hear his breathing gong out over the speakers in the auditorium. Everyone was listening, waiting for his apology; waiting for him to beg for forgiveness from the one man who held the key to mercy. His friends listened intently, wondering what their friend would say.
Cody looked at the crowd, looked at Mr. Fletcher, and then his voice, cracking with a pubescent squeak, spoke: "Oh....man....its on fire.... Mr. Fletcher....its already on fire.....please...ok...I'm sorry....OK.....we are all sorry.....And as a single tear slowly slide down from the corner of his right eye he continued "I am sorry......please don't hit me again...please. I can't ...I can't take this anymore......please, let me go and I won't...I won't skateboard again."
Cody wasn't babbling....and he definitely wasn't crying either. But he was certainly apologizing, and he sure seemed sincere, even willing to promise to give up his favorite thing in the world to make Mr. Fletcher happy. It wasn't like Cody to apologize for much of anything, but he sure was doing it now, and his friends listened in utter amazement. Maybe it was just because his ass was on fire, and from the image in the mirror, it was certainly that. Cody knew he was begging, but with his ass burning and on fire with only two strokes, and with the possibility of getting 7 more strokes if Mr. Fletcher gave them to him, begging somehow just seemed the right thing to do.
The loudspeaker crackled "TIME LIMIT IS UP---VICTIMS HAVE 30 SECONDS TO TYPE IN THEIR VOTE FOR ADDITIONAL PUNISHMENT DESERVED"
Cody stared straight ahead, watching Mr. Fletcher with pleading eyes. As he watched, the man mumbled something, then reached down and punched something into his keypad. Oh how Cody wanted him to have mercy....he had begged in front of him, BEGGED him in front of his friends....and that was as humiliating as anything he had ever done.
"TIME IS UP---VICTIMS RESPONSES AVERAGED--ADDITIONAL STROKES TO BE DELIVERED: 7"
Seven! So...so NO mercy! NONE....he would have to take it all, and at that moment Cody had no idea if he could. He was in shock....and even as he heard the murmur in the crowd, many surprised at what Mr. Fletcher had entered, it didn't matter to the machine, it didn't matter to it at all.
BANG--CRACK!! "_s_h_i_t_TTTTT"---Cody couldn't help himself....the word had shot out of his lips as the fire reached his ass. He bucked wildly against the bonds that restrained him...and as his hips bucked and his arms pulled and his asshole cinched open and closed the feeling from the sliding ring was intensified, and as he struggled and fought and tried so hard not to cry his dick went rock hard, the tip swelling to a new size, ....and the feeling...the feeling was building and for Cody, he didn't know, didn't really understand, what exactly that feeling was all about as it was more intense than any feeling he had ever had before.
BANG--CRACK!! An "Ugghhhh" escaped his lips, and as he bit down hard he fought the urge to cry...to lose control....no...not that...not in front of his friends. He was losing control of his dick too....and as the body began to make the climb towards his first wet orgasm, he was filled with an intense feeling that was building and building. It was like nothing he had ever felt, and his dick was harder and thicker and bigger than it had ever been in his life..... Things were blurring out.....the crowd, the machine....he was getting dizzy, and the sounds started to blend into a roar.
He was bucking his hips wildly now, not fully realizing what he was doing. He just wanted OUT....to somehow get OUT of this THING....to get AWAY. Somehow. And oh it hurt so bad...and his dick....oh his dick...then suddenly something was happening, and as his entire body started convulsing then there was another BANG---CRACK....and with the CRACK he came....and for the first time his boy's balls sent a load of sperm, mixing it with the very first fluid from his prostate gland, and then as the rubber ring continue to milk his dick, it traveled up his shaft; up, up and up, and as his entire _c_o_c_k_head jerked for the first real time in his life, he was suddenly shooting a single squirt of almost clear semen out of his small, shuddering body. And with that action, with that single moment, as everyone watched, his mouth flew open, his eyes rolled back, and his head jerked toward the sky. Simultaneously, he squirted his way into manhood. And then everything blurred into infinity and he fainted.
Later, the board of inquiry would try to figure out why he fainted. Some would say it was due to the light dinner the night before, and the fact that he skipped breakfast that morning, too nervous to eat. Some of the doctors would say it was due to the boy's dehydrated condition, and the fact that he had had nothing to drink in almost 14 hours. Some would say it was due to the paddle settings, that the state mandated settings were inappropriate for a boy of his age and weight class. And there was the possibility that he had fainted simply from his first real _s_e_x_ual experience. Most likely it was from a combination of these things....but at the moment, the reason he fainted made no difference at all.
For Cody, it was the most intense experience of his 14 years. To the crowd, they saw the paddle firing, saw the boy jerk, heard the CRACK as it impacted his ass. Everyone saw him look toward the ceiling, everyone saw him throw his head back, and everyone saw his eyes roll back into his head. But since the impact of the paddle had occurred just has he had ejaculated his first wad of sperm, his entire body had convulsed and bounced and most people had missed seeing the tiny wad of clear fluid shooting from his body. But what they did see, and what everyone that was there would forever remember, was his eyes rolling back and then the spasmic jerking of his body, the rebound from the paddle strike, and the boy laying lifeless in the clutches of the machine. Someone in the audience had screamed, and suddenly people were standing and everyone was yelling.
Suddenly, another BANG--CRACK, and the merciless machine smashed its paddle into the now unconscious boy, bouncing his whole body and literally shaking him again like a rag doll. There was more screaming then, people suddenly running, and everyone was yelling to get him out...turn it OFF, turn it OFF for GOD'S SAKE! Now! NOW! Mr. Fletcher stared at the keypad in front of him, desperately looking for an OFF button or a CANCEL button or anything...but there was nothing like that anywhere! BANG---CRACK! Oh GOD! Again, the paddle hit the boy; again his entire body bounced like a rag doll. His limp body was just hanging in the restraints getting pulverized by an uncaring machine and a system gone out of control.
The guards rushed to the control panel, and it should have been a simple matter to turn it off. And it would have been...at least it would have been six months before. But ever since prior head guard Randy Benson had illegally tampered with the control settings on the machine before his son's punishment session, the control panel had been covered and the cover was kept locked. The jail warden held the only key, and without the key the guards had no way to get the cover up, and therefore no way to turn off the Crymaker. As the warden ran to the panel, fumbling for the key, the crowd was screaming........STOP THIS...OH PLEASE STOP THIS NOW....then again, BANG---CRACK! Oh GOD! THE POOR BOY!!!!
Again Cody's body bounced lifelessly in the machine.....his ass changing from a flaming red color to a deeper purple, and his body hanging limp and unmoving. There was no crying, no tears, no begging....nothing from the boy. Just hanging....waiting.....his head hanging down lifelessly, his tongue hanging out, and the crowd not knowing if he was alive or dead. And the machine....the machine didn't care. One of the guards grabbed the paddle with his hands....trying to restrain it...to keep it from hitting the boy again. He wrapped his arms around it, trying to hold it back. At the same time the cover was finally being unlocked, and the guards struggled with the latch, their panicked fingers desperately trying to get inside. Suddenly, the end of the sentence, the 7th and final BANG---CRACK rocked across the auditorium, followed by an ear splitting scream, as the guard's arm was broken in three places and he was flung the width of the stage.
Then, quietly and automatically and uncaringly the curtains began to close...and the loudspeaker crackled again and the mechanical voice announced "PUNISHMENT COMPLETED"
Everyone was yelling suddenly. The crowd was stunned. Kids were crying, Cody's friends were in shock. Parents poured out of the jailhouse, and the picketing signs from the teens protesting outside suddenly took on a new and more intense meaning. Someone had called 911, and the ambulance's arrival with its lights and siren wailing had fueled the crowd further. Police were called in, and the press trucks had rolled. After that, things had gotten out of hand. People were interviewed, and Michael Hanson and his SAFEPHAT group were front page news the following day. It didn't matter that Cody woke up almost as soon as they had removed him from the machine. It didn't matter that he would fully recover and in fact would have been able to walk out of the jailhouse on his own if they had let him. No, he wasn't given that opportunity, but was instead immediately taken to Brinrick County Regional Hospital by ambulance where he was examined by doctors who were not part of the state's punishment hierarchy. The subsequent press conference from the hospital, along with the description of the young boy's punishment from the families that had witnessed it, had filled the nightly news programs and by Sunday the paper was devoting a whole section to the problems of the Crymaker. The regional hospital doctor had said that the boy had been tortured, and that was all it took. That, along with wonderful pictures of Cody, portrayed by the news media as the little innocent kid who the state had abused. Soon, they had his school picture, and another picture his mom had provided of him in his church clothes holding an Easter basket. Together these pictures were shown almost continuously on the news and were spread across the front page of the paper.
He was overnight a hero. He was the ultimate victim, just a kid on a skateboard, who the state had abused. He had beat the machine....he hadn't cried, not really cried. Never, not even when it had beat him to the point he had passed out. In the end, the state administrator for police affairs, Mr. Travis Ward, along with Mr James Harding, the Brinrick Juvenile Justice Administrator, had tried to smooth things over with a quickly called press conference of their own, but that hadn't gone well and they had both been all but booed right off the stage. It was no surprise to anyone that two days later the Brinrick County Superior Court placed a restraining order shutting down the county's punishment apparatus. That order was copied almost word-for-word by the state's Supreme Court twenty-four hours later, shutting down all the Crymaker machines statewide. At the same time, a full congressional review was initiated to look into the entire Juvenile Corporal Punishment Act. Together, these actions were the end for the Crymaker and a new beginning for Brinrick County...
POSTSCRIPT Two years later, Brinrick County is still the quaint and wonderful place to live it was under the reign of the Crymaker. The machine still sits in the jailhouse, the auditorium quiet now, a light gathering of dust coating the keypads. There is a small puddle of hydraulic fluid sitting under the unused paddle, and the machine, while still shiny, is beginning to show a few signs of rust. Teenage crime rates have risen slightly, although through concerned parent groups corporal punishment has not totally gone away. It still exists within the county's school system as well as in many private homes. Parents have become more responsible, holding their teenagers accountable and insisting they behave themselves. School PTA's have returned the old fashion paddle to the classrooms, and more parents are using corporal punishment at home.
The congressional review is still in progress, and the results are not expected until later in the year. The JCPA itself has been repealed, and while there are some initiatives to reinstate portions of it, the act as it was known will probably never happen again.
Michael Hanson is at a state college in Virginia, and is still making straight A's, working hard in the pre-med program with his ultimate goal to be a doctor. Cody Sorenson is now a 16 year old Sophomore and is a good kid. His parents moved from the county shortly after his punishment, but his grades have remained high and he is doing well in his new school. David Stockridge is 18, and still has problems associated with his experiences with the Crymaker. His grades have fallen, and he has been in trouble on several occasions. He is in active counseling and there is hope for his future. Like Michael Hanson, Travis Harrison is also attending college, and is a junior working on a degree in criminology. As a castrated male he is still bitter about what the Crymaker did to him, but at the same time he still is shocked at what his once powerful _s_e_x_ drive had pushed him to do. He is glad he is not in prison, and he is determined to make his life meaningful. His victims, Linda Ellis and Trevor Jones are now both attending Junior college, and have recently become engaged. Over time they have both come to realize that getting revenge is not so sweet as seeking it, and everyday they regret what they did to Travis. The memory of that day and what they did still haunts them almost as much as it haunts the boy it was done to. Robert Harrison is a senior. A strapping teenage hunk, he is a tight end on his school's football team, and long since passed his older brother up in both size, stature, and physical ability. Carl Benson never recovered from his humiliation of the Crymaker. His father lost his job, and he was an outcast at school. Michael Hanson tried numerous times to reach out to him and become his friend but he never responded, hiding instead from every school function and eventually disappearing altogether. The family was last seen heading west to start a new beginning away from the horrors of the Crymaker experience. Greg Gibson and Zack Mikels are seniors, and over time have become Michael Hanson's best friends. Together, over the summer months when Michael is home from school, the three boys are often out doing things together, having fun and enjoying the wonderful time that life has become....
[Author's note: This is the end of the machine and of the series that we have come to know as "The Crymaker." All characters in this story are fictional, and the machine exists only in my mind. If you have enjoyed the series, please let me know. I have attempted to write a story with meaning and characters that seemed 'real.' I appreciated the many ideas and points of suggestions that people gave me. Because of this series, I gained a friendship I would not otherwise have made, and that alone has made it all worthwhile. I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope it has been entertaining for at least a few. Thanks for reading it. I've got other ideas, and who knows...there's always room for a sequel..... All rights reserved. --Nathan (nathan9001@yahoo. com)]