My partner and I have been having some fun trying to think about what might be. Helmut and I both found the thought process exciting and have decided to put our perverted thoughts into writing. Remember that this is simply fiction. Other stories are on hold for a short time while we indulge ourselves. Hope our readers don't mind - Jamie.
Chapter 1 Introduction
A slap on my butt and I was instantly awake as my partner exclaimed: "Time to get up and get to work, Jamie". I rolled over, acutely conscious of the stickiness about my body from last night's exertions, and looked at Hans who was smiling at me.
"Okay, okay," I replied and kissed him gently and then climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom to clean myself up. As was usual, Hans joined me in the shower and we soaped each other and kissed but resisted the obvious temptation to take matters further.
Hans and I had been married for over five years under the European Marriages Act that had been passed by the European Parliament more than a decade ago. We shared a fantastic house on the outskirts of Munich and worked together as Case Officers for the European Department of Internal Security. Our house was a large rambling building and was set on over 15 hectares of land, which required quite a few people to maintain, and we staffed it, with the concurrence of the courts, with youthful offenders who worked under a rather strict disciplinary regime in order to teach them proper values and prepare them for their return to society. Our house was not guarded: the occupants knew only too well the consequences of absconding.
We had met when we were just 16 and 17 respectively and formed our relationship shortly thereafter. This was at the end of the great Energy War of 2033-34 when, after the completion of the total integration of Europe into a single entity and decades of fighting terrorism, Europe and the United States had finally taken the final step to secure their economies and had invaded and taken control of all the major oil and gas producing countries in the world. The Chinese and Indians had briefly taken the side of the oil producing countries but a nuclear attack on Beijing, New Delhi and Tehran had quickly put a stop to resistance. Now the world was a peace although Europe was internally unstable as various ethnic groups sought to resist being swallowed up in the single European identity.
Unemployment, especially among the young, in Europe had risen as technology made more and more people redundant and the political liberals had, in 2038, been swept aside by a strong reaction on the part of voters to an ever-increasing level of crime and violence. The Department of Internal Security (DIS) had been established to oversight the war on internal unrest. The new Government of Unity and Strength had moved quickly to implement its election platform which swept away many civil liberties, reintroduced mandatory corporal punishment and gave the DIS broad ranging powers of arrest and detention.
The DIS constructed a vast number of detention centres throughout Europe, supported by new prisons, and it was Hans and my responsibility, along with a small army of other Case Officers, to oversight a seemingly impossible workload of cases of offenders to ensure that they would be treated in accordance with the new laws. Hans and I concentrated on the age group of 16 to 25 year olds and spent endless hours interviewing offenders, taking them before the courts and supervising their punishments. Being a same-_s_e_x_ married couple that readily engaged in mild forms of BDSM, Hans and I took great delight in our powers and rights but treated the men and boys strictly in accordance with the law.
Hans is more assertive in his treatment of his cases that I which is quite understandable given his dominant nature in our relationship but nonetheless he has a deep rooted compassion of which I, and some of his charges, are the principal beneficiaries. We are of course, custodians of responsibilities given by the Parliament and discharge them accordingly.
As usual, when we get to our office we are greeted by tables full of cases that require attention but fortunately, being the most senior regional case officers, we are able to decide which cases we deal with and those we delegate to others.
I was skipping though my computer case logs, trying to decide which ones to focus on when Hans passed one that he had been reading to me.
"Here," he said, "have a look at this one" as he passed me the hand computer display which I opened.
One the first page of the hand computer display was a set of photos of the offender and the digitalised scanned images showed a youth who looked truly angelic. He did not look like the sort of lad who would get into serious trouble. I read the display.
"File No. 64851346 Subject: Kristofer Zeiss
Arrested: 18.5.40 Age : 17 Height: 168cm Weight: 64.5kg Residence: State Housing Unit 184, Block 8 _s_e_x_uality: Hetero_s_e_x_ual Offences: Unlawful conduct Resisting arrest Vandalism Possession of narcotics (2 tabs, DCFP) Previous: Nil"
"What do you think?" asked Hans.
"Cute," I replied almost unconsciously, "let's have him brought up".
I continued working through the computer files silently, occasionally passing one to Hans for his comment and by the time our first interviewee had been brought from the cells to our secure interview room, we had jointly set ourselves a sizeable set of tasks for the day. As the guard indicated that our prisoner was waiting for us, I grabbed the computer file and Hans and I headed into the adjoining room.
The lad was well groomed and quiet but puffiness about his eyes suggested either a sleepless night or perhaps even an odd tear or two.
"Hello Kristofer," said Hans. "My name is Hans and this is my partner Jamie. We are here to evaluate your case and to determine what should be done with you. Do you understand?"
The lad looked at each of us and said: "Hello, I am sorry to have cause trouble and I shan't do so again, I promise. Could you not just let me off with a warning?"
Hans shook his head. "I understand, Kristofer" said Hans "that this is your first offence but it is not as simple as that. You have broken several statutes and we cannot simply let you off with a warning. You know the law. There is no tolerance permitted for any offender and you will have to be treated like any other."
Hans and I had a well-practiced routine and knew that we had to immediately put the boy at a disadvantage and make him feel as vulnerable as possible.
"Kristofer," I said in a soothing tone, "please stand up and remove all your clothes except you underwear".
The lad looked at Hans and then at me and reluctantly complied.
Hans and I watched as the lad stripped to reveal an almost flawless and hairless skin, which seemed to set off more delicately his handsome face, which was framed by long dark brown hair. When he had stripped to his underwear, Hans ordered him to resume his seat.
I gather the lad's clothes and put them in a container on a table set against one of the walls whilst Hans got down to business.
"Kristofer," said Hans, "please tell me what happened that caused these charges to be laid."
"Well," said the lad somewhat nervously, "some friends from school and I went to a bar and I had a bit too much to drink. Then someone started jostling me because it was really crowded and when I pushed him away he fell and overturned a table and then the next thing I knew a security guard had hold of me. I tried to get away and he called another guard and then they turned me over to the Police. There really wasn't much to it."
"And what about the drugs?" asked Hans as I carefully studied our young charge.
"Well, I had two tablets, that's all," said Kristofer, a slight film of perspiration breaking out on his face and chest as is fear began to show, "just standard refined pills to help me relax, nothing serious."
Hans and I both knew from the file that the boy was telling the truth for the drugs were just mild stimulants but nonetheless totally illegal.
Hans stood up and came over to me and with his back to the lad whispered: "Well, should we take him or just throw him to the wolves?"
I smiled and whispered back: "He's too cute to put into a prison camp. Let's see if the judge will let him come with us."
Hans returned to the table at which a nervous Kristofer was sitting.
"Alright, Kristofer," said Hans, "he is the position. You are going to be taken to court immediately by Jamie here. You will be convicted. Under the law, you will be sentenced on each of your offences. This means that for the Unlawful Conduct charge you will be sentenced to a minimum of six strokes of the cane or strap and a maximum of twelve. On the resisting arrest charge, you will get the same. Vandalism is somewhat more serious so you can expect something between six and twenty strokes and for the charge of Possession of narcotics you can expect a minimum of twelve and anything up to thirty six strokes plus twelve months in a Camp and perhaps as many as three years, depending on the judge. If the total punishment exceeds 36 strokes, your sentence will be carried out in two sessions to give you a bit of time to recover."
The lad's eyes widened with each pronouncement from Hans and it was quite clear that he was having trouble comprehending what al this meant.
Hans explained. "So Kristofer," he said quietly, "you are looking at between one and three years in a Prison Camp plus at least 30 strokes and up to 80 strokes."
Kristofer let out a little cry of horror as the extent of his penalty sank in and I went to the lad and gently patted him on the back to comfort him. Playing my part in our well-established charade, I said to Hans: "Perhaps, given that Kristofer is so young and that this is a first offence we could see if the judge will be lenient? Perhaps, instead of Camp, Kristofer might prefer to serve his time working for us along with the other boys in our care?"
Kristofer looked startled for a minute and then asked: "What do you mean?"
"Well Kristofer," said Hans, "Jamie and I have a large estate and sometimes take prisoners there and allow them to work off their sentence by working for us in maintaining the place. We impose rigid discipline there so if you were to work there and you stepped out of line at all we would punish you severely. But the good thing is that you would not have to go off to a Prison Camp where you know what would happen to a pretty young thing like you."
"Can you really do that?" asked the lad with a glimmer of some hope in his eyes.
"Well, it depends on the judge," I said, "but if you want to try, Hans and I are prepared to see what we can do. It's your decision."
For a brief moment, Kristofer hesitated but then thought about what Hans had said about Prison Camp. He straightened his shoulders and said: "Please, if you can keep me out of Prison Camp, I'll do whatever you say."
Success showing in his face, Hands completed the interview by saying: "Just remember Kristofer, if you agree to this you will have to be totally obedient to Jamie and to me and if you disobey we shall always have the right to send you off to a Camp. Now go with Jamie and we'll see what the judge has to say." Hans left the room to set up the next interview whilst I gave Kristofer his clothes and escorted him across the street to the courts. I led the boy to one of the courtrooms and we sat whilst the presiding judge dispensed with a man of about thirty who had been caught selling stolen good in a marketplace. One of my colleagues was with this man and was clearly unsympathetic to his charge as was the judge. I watched Kristofer intently as he watched the brief proceedings and thought he was going to feint at the judge sentenced the man to ten years in prison and seventy strokes of the strap immediately and a further seventy strokes on each anniversary of this day until your release. I leaned my shoulder into Kristofer's to stop him from falling and, once the previous prisoner was escorted from the courtroom help my charge to stand up and approached the judge to whom I handed the computer file.
With defence counsel having been dispensed with many years before, Kristofer had only me to speak for him.
The judge, a middle-aged woman whom I knew quite well, asked Kristofer whether he was guilty as charged.
"Yes, Your Honour," said Kristofer with anxiety etched in his voice.
"Your Honour," said I, "could I perhaps have a word in private with you regarding this case?"
"Approach the bench," said the judge.
I did so and explained quietly the plan that Hans and I had in mind given Kristofer's youth and the minor nature, in reality, of his offences. I then stepped back to Kristofer's side.
The judge read the computer file, cleared her throat, and then typed some notes into her computer, transmitted them to the hand held display and then pronounced her verdict.
"Kristofer Teilst," she said firmly, "you have pleaded guilty, which is to your credit. On the first count of Unlawful Conduct, which is clearly, alcohol related, you are sentenced to six strokes. On the second count of resisting arrest, a matter I take most seriously, you are sentenced to eight strokes and on the charge of vandalism a further eight strokes. Now, on the Possession charge, I have been persuaded to allow you to serve your sentence which is two years confinement in a private facility under strict supervision and you shall receive twelve strokes on that charge. You are dismissed."
I could almost hear Kristofer trying to figure out what all this had meant and as I escorted him from the court to where the punishment would begin, I explained to him that he was to serve Hans and I for two years and was about to receive 32 strokes of the strap or cane. Kristofer's legs went a bit weak as I conveyed this news to him and gave him solace by saying: "Well, at least you don't have to go to Prison provided you behave yourself for the next two years."
I rang Hans on my cell wrist phone and told him of the outcome and suggested that I get Kristofer into the preparation area and that I would then get straight back to the office.
I escorted Kristofer down the long corridor to the preparation area where an officer took him into custody. I watched as the lad's sentence was checked on the computers and then against the records of the Truth in Sentencing Commission in which were stored the range of punishments awarded for various offences. This check was done to ensure that judges were neither too lenient or severe with any offender since even judges could err in either direction when it came to dealing with individuals.
I watched as Kristofer was taken into the processing centre and given a tablet that would quickly cleanse his insides in preparation for his punishment. Kristofer looked at me as he was being put into a sealed holding cell and issued with detention centre clothes into which he would have to change. I assured him that Hans and I would come back to witness his punishment and then take him to his new "home".
Knowing that nothing would happen to the boy in the absence of either Han or myself, I returned to the office and reviewed the computer files that Hans had started processing.
Most of the files were routine but one concerned a young man named Rupert Kant who was vaguely familiar to me so I asked Hans why it rand a bell in my memory.
"Oh, Rupert was that kid that we decided to send up to the Prison Camp in Silesia, remember," said Hans. "He was a real tough nut when he was first arrested. He's next door. Go and have a chat."
I took the computer log with me and entered the room where a stocky young man sat slouched against the wall. He glared at me when I entered and directed him to take a seat while I read his file.
Rupert had been caught using a false ID card when he was twenty years old and had been sentenced to twelve strokes of the cane and six months detention. Now he had been caught breaking into several houses and stealing and was apparently unconcerned about the consequences.
I sat down opposite Rupert. "So, after six months and a decent beating, you still can't sort yourself out?" I said.
"What's it to you," he replied in a surly tone.
I looked at him. He was just a little over twenty-one now. He was perhaps a little heavier than when he had first been arrested but was still well built and quite trim and his angular features of his face gave forth a degree of arrogance, which I did not expect. I decided it was time to take the wind out of his sails.
"Well Rupert,' I said, "last time you got the minimum sentence and spent your time in a minimum security institution. This time we are going to go for the maximum penalty so that you might learn something and sort yourself out. This is not going to be a slap on the wrist. We are going to put you in a proper Prison Camp this time."
"Well, what will I get?" he asked almost, but not quite, disinterestedly.
I laughed at his affected nonchalance. "Well son," I said, "on each of the five counts of burglary I will be asking that you receive at least ten strokes which means that you won't be sitting down comfortably for some time. If your stupid brain cannot work it out, that means 50 strokes which will take two sessions but from there on it's a matter for the judge and you could get one who will not throw the book at you and get a lot more. The maximum sentence in such cases can be as many a twenty strokes on each offence!"
The young man shifted restlessly at the mention of such a heavy punishment but he didn't say a word.
"Further," I continued, "I am going to ask the court to send you to a Prison Camp where your beating will be administered in public and, if I'm not mistaken, it will be more than a prison strap that will be visiting your butt while you are there."
Slowly his eyes widened as the reality of what lay in store sank into his brain. A Prison Camp meant being put into the company of strong and often violent men who would like nothing more than to get their hands on a young man such as Rupert.
"I ain't no fag," he said. "I'm not like you and no guy is going to shove his _c_o_c_k_ up my arse, I can tell you that for sure."
"Yeah, right," I replied. "I can just see you fighting off about ten guys all after the pleasure of your company. Give me a break and get real."
I noticed Rupert's body go a little slack as the bravado dissipated and he was shaking ever so slightly.
"Okay," he said. "Maybe you're right. So what can you do to help me?"
"I'm not here to help son," I said. "My job is to get you to court, sentenced and put where you belong. This is not a counselling service."
"But you can't send me where you know what will happen to me," he implored.
I stood up and went to the door and called Hans in.
"Hans," I said somewhat mockingly, "young Rupert here doesn't want to be gang banged when he goes to prison. Any ideas?"
"Well, let's see," replied Hans who was clearly enjoying the thought of this young man being turned out in prison. "Maybe, just maybe, if Rupert is a good boy we could get him some training down in the cells before taking him to court and even, if he was really nice, we could hook him up with some protection."
For an instant, Rupert thought he had some relief but suddenly tensed up as the reality of Hans' statement sunk in.
"What the _f_u_c_k_ do you mean by training?" he asked. "And what do you mean by being real nice?"
Hans sighed, as if this was an unnecessary problem that he really didn't want to deal with.
"Listen boy," he said, "here is the deal. You can be really nice to us by giving us a blowjob and, if you do a good job, we'll take you down to the holding cells and get some really nice guy to take your cherry. And, provided you don't cause any trouble, we'll make sure you and he get put together in the same prison so that he can protect you from the wolves who will otherwise have your for breakfast. That's the deal. Now get down on your knees right now if you accept or Jamie here will take you straight to court and you can look after things from there."
The horrified look on the young man's face was priceless. He knew that we could do whatever we wanted with him but had clearly not expected things to go this far.
You heard the man Rupert," I said as my _c_o_c_k_ started to rise at the prospect of getting some unexpected attention. "And if you do a good job now, I'll even ask the judge to be lenient and not give you more than 50 strokes as your punishment."
Rupert looked at Hans and then at me and visibly shrank into submission. He slid out of the chair he was sitting on as Hans walked up to him and started to unzip his trousers.
About half an hour later, I took Rupert to one of the holding cells in the basement where he would stay until we found him a mate and then Hans and I went to see about our primary concern, young Kristofer.
When we entered the processing area, we found Kristofer sitting in his holding cell, obviously scared and somewhat distressed. The tablet he had been given upon arrival had apparently achieved its objective of purging his system (an action required by law to avoid any offender soiling himself during his punishment). He had clearly been allowed to shower and clean himself after this part of the process and, to Hans and I, looked quite charming.
We had him released from his cell and I talked with him whilst Hans went to see the guard who would administer Kristofer's punishment.
Kristofer's eyes seemed focussed on the end of the corridor and when I looked around I could see that the door to the punishment room was open and Kristofer could see the frame upon which his naked body would be secured in a short while. I took Kristofer by the arm and led him away from the view.
"Now, son," I said gently, "let me explain the process from here on. Shortly you are going to be taken to a room down the corridor where any hair on your backside will be removed for sanitary reasons. That is not pleasant the first time it is done, nut it is for your own good. Then you will be taken into the punishment room and fastened down and your strokes will be delivered. Hans and I will be there and I think Hans has gone to make sure you do not receive all the strokes with the cane because that would tear your backside to ribbons.
"When your punishment has been completed, you will see a doctor who will check you to make sure you have not suffered any permanent damage and then you will be released into Hans and my custody. You will be very sore but we expect that you will behave like a man and not a cry-baby.
"You will accompany us back to our office and wait there until we are able to take you home and there you will then be under Hans and my instruction for the next two years. And I want to make this clear," I added for effect, "you had better do exactly what you are told or your backside suffer and, if you become too difficult to handle, we will send you to a Prison Camp. Now is all that clear?"
"Yeah, I guess," said Kristofer, probably without comprehending fully what his life was going to be like during his period of confinement.
Hans returned and nodded at me as if to indicate that he had set up Kristofer's punishment arrangements satisfactorily.