Story of T. J
Part III The Unforgiven
Day 4, Thursday, September 19
If my handwritingīs sloppy again, sir, itīs because I have to lie down on my belly writing. Iīm getting dizzy when I stand up, and the doctor ordered me to lie down for at least 12 hours. I asked for painkillers and had another 5 lashes for insolence. And I still wear both rubbers and woolies. They donīt smell good. I havenīt had a shower in three days and feel miserable. Sir, sorry sir, the paperīs getting all wet, I canīt help it, please, sir, donīt punish me anymore. I got another 10 for my yesterday paper, and Iīm sorry I havenīt done my work as Iīm supposed to, but Iīll learn, sir, I really will shape up. I donīt know what to do, sir, I had 40 lashes today including yesterdayīs 10 why did I get them today, sir? - and am getting another 25 on Saturday and 26 on Wednesday. That totals 136. Sir, Iīm sure I donīt have any skin left on my bottom as it is, Iīll do anything to have my punishment at least reduced.
Sir, I desperately need to go to the toilet but Iīm not allowed out of bed. Am I supposed to wet my bed? Iīm actually thankful I had an enema before I was whipped, so I donīt have to worry too much about my bowels. I donīt know what will happen if I wet my bed. Will I get an additional whipping? If I get out of bed I most certainly will. I promised to write down my crimes and Iīm going to do it all today, but please, sir, if your copy of my record and my list donīt match in dates or details, donīt punish me, I īm having a hard time trying to remember everything. Sir, I used to take speed and pills and all kinds of things now and then, and that affects the memory for details and time. Iīm writing it all down on a separate sheet, or sheets, I guess.
Sir, I donīt think I can hold my urine back much longer now.
I passed water on the rack today, but that was nearly four hours ago. After I did that, a big butt plug was inserted in my asshole, sir, I have to use that word because I canīt remember the proper one. I could feel it all the time, the outer part clearly visible to all present, and when the paddle hit I could feel it being forced deeper into me. I wanted to ask what was the point of giving me an enema if I had to wear the plug anyway, but I held my tongue, sir. There were seven persons in the room, two females including the doctor. I donīt know who they all were, I kept my eyes lowered all the time as Iīm supposed to. I didnīt take my punishment well, Iīm afraid, sir. I fainted once and the doctor had to examine me on the rack, she said it was OK to continue but I donīt know if she was telling the truth. I started crying after the third stroke and yelled after the fifth. Iīve never felt anything worse in my life. I had 20 strokes with the paddle and 15 with the whip, and the extra 5 also with the whip. I couldnīt sit on my behind if it meant my life. What am I going to do, sir?
Iīm letting go of my bladder now, I canīt hold back, sir, please understand that I have no choice, please, sir.
Day 4, Nightwarderīs report
Cell 3: At suppertime, J. had soiled his bed. Since he was very affected by the punishment earlier today, he was temporarily placed in cell 4. He was showered briefly. J. broke several rules: looked us in the face, spoke unallowed and cried a lot. He was given a tranquilizer. His state of health was questionable, and we chose not to correct him tonight. I leave it to the management to decide upon further punishment.
Day 5. Friday, September 20
Iīm back in my cell again, having changed the bedclothes and mopped the floor. I managed to get some sleep last night thanks to the tranquilizer I was given by the warder. Iīve spent the whole day writing the 500 lines you gave me, sir, "I will not be such a cry-baby", and Iīm done now. Sir, I apologize for behaving like I did yesterday, but I donīt feel well at all and when I think of tomorrow and undergoing my next punishment, Iīm terrified. I can vividly imagine the pain. If it was bad yesterday, it will be even worse tomorrow. Iīll never be able to sit again. Iīll never wear a pair of jeans again. There canīt be any skin left on my bottom. When my woolies were pulled down in the showerroom last night, I saw blood in them. Sir, I beg you to let me have the 25 on my back instead, then Iīll get what Iīve earned anyway, but I canīt take any more whipping on my butt, please, sir.
This morning, I knelt before the warder when he took me to the loo, and he allowed me to speak. I asked him how my behind looked. He bared me on the spot and said it wasnīt too bad, heīd seen worse. It didnīt make me feel any better, though Iīm glad he took me seriously. I had to sit down on the toilet anyway. I hardly could, it took me maybe five minutes just to get seated and then I had to sit very still and just let go, no pushing, no shifting of weight. At the moment I canīt think of much else except how I will get through my next visit to the toilet, and that I still have 51 lashes to go. My butt is very swollen, I had to get a bigger pair of pants this morning, couldnt button the others.
I was told I got 25 points for my last paper. At first I was very scared. I knelt and asked the warder if thereīs any top limit for the number of lashes, but he explained to me that it wasnīt a punishment, it was a reward. 25 points is like a "C", he said, and I got it for listing my crimes and not using foul language. Thank you very much, sir.
The new assignment you have given me is to tell the reasons why I committed the crimes.
I could make it easy and say it was for the money. And it was, but thatīs not the whole truth. I liked the action and the excitement. I used to get a hardon during burglaries, especially if it was a risky or tricky one. I felt on top of the world, sneaking into peoplesī houses and businesses, taking what I wanted, chosing among their valuables. I thought they were pretty daft, going to their boring work everyday, scraping and saving to buy all those things I got for free. I never stole from old people, though. If I got into a flat or a house and saw the signs of old people living there, and felt that old. people smell, I went out again.
I committed crimes when I was angry, too, to get even, or just to feel the power of me. I broke into the Cunninghamīs house after they threw me out. I was on the run then and could tell they werenīt at home, so I gave it a shot, enjoying every minute of it. I knew exactly where to look. His money stash, her money stash, the kidsīpiggy banks. I knew she kept some of her jewelry in a flour bin in the basement. When I was at it anyway, I smashed some of his models and pissed in the chair he used to sit in when building them. He used that chair when he spanked me, too. Of course it was pretty obvious it was my doing, and I have it in my papers although Iīve never admitted before that Iīm guilty.
I never had any qualms about stealing. I mean, Robin Hood is thought of as a hero, and there are plenty of movies and songs made about cons and thieves, presenting them as righteous and daring and all. I mean, Nicholas Cage in Gone in 60 seconds is nothing but a real crook, but the director makes everybody stand on his side against the police. Well, I also robbunk the rich and gave to the poor, that is, myself and my family, but I ended up here getting my behind whipped. Nobode ever whipped Robin Hood.
I still canīt say Iīm sorry for what Iīve done, excuse me, sir, but I have to level with you. Maybe Iīll change my mind in the future. I mean, if there werenīt any property, there wouldnīt be any stealing, either. Itīs just not fair that some people have it all and others have none, not even a chance of changing their lives to the better. As for me, Iīve been living on a side track most of my life. If Iīd want to get a good education, Iīd have to start from scratch, and when I was done, Iīd be too old to get a job anyway. Stealing isnīt the worst crime. You get your TV nicked, the insurance company pays for a replacement. Big stores actually count on a certain amount of cash loss from stealing. Not to mention how the rich got so rich in the first place. Not by being honest, thatīs for sure.
I sure donīt want to come back here again. Going to jail is probably not that bad, I guess. At least you donīt get whipped in prison anymore. Still, it brands you. I donīt know any guy whoīs been accepted on a job if the employer found out heīd been arrested or had served time. Once I nearly was shot by the father of my girlfriend of that time. He didnīt want his daughter to hang around with hoods, he yelled, waving a big shotgun in front of me. He didnīt care what I was like as a person, all that mattered to him was that I had a record.
I hope Iīve done my task properly now, sir. I can write more if you want me to. I havenīt given these things much thought before, and I feel a bit confused. I mean, I was a thief and that was my job. I thought it was as good as anything. I sure knew the risks and that it was against the law, but I was proud of myself and my skills. I still am. I was good at what I did, better than many. I donīt have very much to be proud of in my life sir, but I guess I could improve.
Sir, do I have to take another 51 lashes? Iīm scared itīll kill me. Last time was a horror, and Iīm on the rack again tomorrow morning.
Still, I suppose you know what youīre doing. Since I got my 25 points I know thereīs another side of this, too, not just pain and humiliation.
Sir, I have to go kneel now. Iīll do my best tomorrow, whatever you decide for me.