Brian was hauled out of the cruiser by the two detectives. To say that they were gentle and caring would be a total lie. He was made to move faster by the simple expedient of being smacked on his butt. As his butt was quite literally on fire, this caused him to not only move faster, but to almost run. He was led into the judge's chamber again, and once again Judge Pearce stared at him until the boy lifted his eyes. The judge pointed to a flat screen TV on the far wall, which showed a stangly familiar image of a boy's horribly red butt. It appeared to be a freeze frame, as a blurry outline of a strap was just flying down to strike directly over the boy's back hole. Brian cried, realizing that it was his butt he was looking at, and, even worse that the judge had watched his punishment, as of course could anyone else who had the special chip in their television sets. He remembered that that included news agencies, government officials, school authorities, and anyone who could show "just cause" to have access. What he didn't know was that a chip had been pirated, and copied, and that they were available on the 'net for $24.99. While ilegal, who would know? Certainly there were hundreds, if not thousands of average people around the community who had watched his whipping. Some parents would buy the chip and make their kids watch the whippings, sort of a "if you are not good, you will get that too." type of threat.
The judge spoke. "I can see by your face...and your bottom that you have not had a pleasant half hour or so. I shall ask you again for the names of your pals." He held up his hand when Brian tried to speak. "Rember, if you do not give your friends up, you will go back for another session. ALSO..as I told you before, you will be sent back and be whipped for your crime, even after you tell me who your friends are..and, I might add, so far you have nine penalty strokes coming from the machine. I held off having those awarded right away, I held off until you and I could talk. I want you to know, however that those strokes are awarded by the machine itself. Even I can't control how hard, or with what the machine spanks you. It is sort of a computer form of icing on a cake, except it is welts on your backside. Now, talk to me.
Brian was hiccuping at the moment. When he finally got his breath, he said "Please, I only know their gang names. We met in an abandoned gas station. They found me in a school playground. I never saw them outside of that. Please, you have to believe me. I just don't know."
The judge said "take off your pants." It wasn't a request, it could not be considered a suggestion, it was an order. Brian replied in a whiny voice "why? I'm telling you the truth." Lucky for him, he was already unfastening his jeans as he spoke. They fell softly in a pile at his feet, and once again, his little hairless body came into view. Once again, his little penis had stiffened, and was actually aiming upwards, above the horizon, it's pink tip and single eye the only anatomical part of the boy that was not crying. Brian's hands went back to his butt, feeling the welts. Tears rushed down his face.
"I don't normally do this, but I shall be lenient with you, son. I shall have you persuaded here, rather than going back to the machine...at least for now. I want you to step out of your jeans, and to come over here, to me." The judge had sat down on the leather couch. Brian was embarassed and shivering. The two detectives were still in the room, and they were grinning broadly. Brian knew that he was not going to like this. He also knew that he had no alternative. Holding onto his butt, he walked to the couch, standing in front of the judge, who lifted his robe up, and pointed to the detectives, who lifted the boy up and placed him so that he was face down, facing away from the judge, his legs on either side of the judges' thighs, his body resting on the judges legs, his head almost on the floor. His hands were then held out and cuffed to the legs of a heavy table.
Judge Pearce smiled as he looked down on the little buttocks. They were now a deep red, with blue lines and welts, looking quite awful. The position the boy was in allowed the judge to inspect the boy close up. Brian's legs were splayed apart, fully exposing his anal opening which was surprisingly pink at this angle. His little ball sack was visible, as was the shaft of his little stiff penis, which now was being held by the judge's tightly squeezed thighs. Each detective then grabbed the boy by the ankles, and pulled them apart even more, opening the rear hole as if it were a doorway.
The judge reached down, and ran his fingertips over the beaten flesh of the boy's buttocks. Using both hands, he pulled the anus apart even more, commenting to the detectives "I see that the machine was able to actually get some of the straps to hit here. Look, see inside the rectum? You can see the red marks. This is just perfect. He then lifted the boy's bag, feeling and rolling the testicles around in his hands. "I see only one superficial mark on his scrotum. He must have jerked." When he said that, the detectives laughed, and his deep voice soon joined them. There is a line of flesh that runs from the anus to the scrotum. It is a difficult place to punish, due to it's proximity to the scrotum, but it is an especially sensitive area, and one that the judge was now thoroughly inspecting. "Oh dear, they didn't get very close here. Look how unmarked this is." He held up his right hand, and a detective placed a small, thin, but thick strap into it. He pushed Brian further down his legs, then placed a small cord around the boy's scrotum, pulling the testicles back, and tying them so that they would be away from the danger zone. This left the perineal line, anus, and upper part of the boy's bag not only in plain view, but in an area that could be easily struck. Oh, the judge knew that he would have an even better shot when the boy was on his back in this position, he just found it to be extreemly humiliating for the boy. He lifted the little strap, and cracked it down with a hard overhand stroke. The tip of the strap bit inside the boy's rectum, hitting on the side closest to the scrotum, and then snapping down, catching the outside of the wrinkly bag as it travelled. Brian screame. The judge smiled. The detectives laughed. The next stroke landed even lower, followed quickly by twelve more, each a bit lower, each biting into the super sensitive area. Speaking of which, the skin was now a mottled blue where the strap had so cruely bitten.
Still in place, the judge asked Brian once again for the information he needed. The boy was sobbing so much, he couldn't be heard. A simple twist on the squeezed together testicles, and Brian called out "I don't know, I don't know." Judge pearce was beginning to believe the boy. He thought for a moment. "I am sending you back to the machine. I shall think about what you said. If you can think of a way of identifying the boys, do so while you are being whipped. When you come back, you will be asked again, and either I will believe you, or not. If I do, you will not be sent back to the machine. If I don't, well, electricity is cheap, and we can run a machine for only dollars a day.
He nodded to the detectives, who unfastened his hands, and lifted him up, quite literally. "Have a good learning experience, young man. I remind you once again that you have nine penalty strokes coming from the machine. Any delays this time will add to that number. I suggest you be expedient when you are there."
With that, he turned his head, and, using a remote, started to watch another pair of juvenile buttocks turning red. This boy appeared to be older, as he had a few strands of hair covering his ball sack.
Brian was led out to the cruiser. This time, he did not have either pants or jeans on, but was pulled roughly out, his bare, very sore bottom on display for those who were walking past the courthouse. There were a few whistles, and calls, but for the most part, the crowd who had gathered and watched the boy, whith his hands cuffed behind him be placed face down on the rear seat of the cruiser. Little did Brian know but that one of the crowd was a newspaper reporter, and his bare butt would be on the front page of the gazette tomorrow morning under the caption "Justice is being served."
A very frightened boy cried all the way to the machine. Once there, he was made to sit on his butt on the hard plastic chairs as the other seven children stared at him, noting his swollen face, his teary eyes, and of course his little stiff penis.
The light then went on, and the detectives picked him up, carrying a screaming boy, who was dragging his feet, towards another visit with the machine.