Chapter 1

 

I surveyed my current crop of charges with a great deal of satisfaction.

They stood in a perfect line, ramrod straight, eyes staring straight ahead of them, not moving an inch from the point on the wall opposite them, hands clasped tightly behind their naked skulls...

Actually they were naked everywhere; their whole bodies totally exposed to my gaze and I admired their sleek musculatures, honed to perfection by a rigorous physical regime they all loathed.

But they were even more naked than simply unclothed. As I said, their skulls were naked, kept shaved so that they were totally bald on top. So were the rest of their bodies. For many decades, women had kept their body hair to a minimum. I removed it entirely - and permanently. It was the first stage in a process that turned these criminal women into docile females and only then would I certify that they were now cured of their recalcitrance and could safely be turned loose into society once more. These six were nearly there but I thought I would keep them another week or so, just to make sure. After all, it was my licence that was on the line!

"Prisoners, about face!" I ordered.

All six of them executed a perfect military-style motion, now presenting their delightful bottoms to my view. "Toes, Touch!" I said then, and again, without even a murmur, all executed the order, although each of them knew they were about to suffer pain.

What a sight, I thought, as I surveyed six perfect bottoms, each presented for the cane. I grinned to myself then proceeded to deliver ten strokes to each pair of nates, noting that while they flinched appropriately, not a sound emerged from their tight-lipped mouths. Oh yes, this six were well on the way to being reformed characters.

 

My name is James Hawker and I am a Licensed Corrector.

That means I have studied, passed the examinations and then been granted a licence to correct females who step out of line. And that doesn't just mean they have broken the law. Any male in charge of a female, if he feels himself unable to control his charge properly, may deliver her to me for correction.

There is no set time for this. Even the judges who find a female guilty of a crime merely sentence her to 'Correction'. That means she is assigned to me or one of my colleagues and we then bring her home to join her other companions in misery. And there she stays until I am prepared to certify she is cured, no matter if it takes years, or even her lifetime, for we males are no longer prepared to put up with uppity females.

It all came to a head in 2028.

Over the last eighty years or so, women had been getting way too big for their britches. It had started as a perfectly legitimate cry for equality and no-one objected to that, at least not once the movement was well under way. But then, over the last ten years or so, it had accelerated and women were successfully pleading quite ridiculous cases of chauvinism until a man couldn't even look sideways at a woman. It culminated when women achieved a majority in the House of Commons and moved to disenfranchise men.

It was then the grey eminence of The Establishment took a hand. No-one knows just how they did it but there was a sudden mass resignation of female MPs, males took control once more and then a whole raft of new laws put women squarely back where they started: without any rights at all: no vote, not allowed to own property, not allowed higher education and barred from all professions.

They weren't slaves exactly, but it wasn't far short.

It was further decided that female prisons would be abolished and a new regime of disciplinary 'treatment' created. Us! Licensed Correctors. A new university course was quickly created and we were there trained in physiology (specifically female physiology of course), psychology, physical and mental punishment, and physical development.

The rationale behind this was that prisons had become very expensive and that we would be a cheaper and more effective alternative. They were right. We cost less than ten percent of the old female prison budget and there hasn't been a single failure in the two years since the regime had been introduced. Our course was hard and they rejected us ruthlessly if we didn't come up to standard but our successes so far had vindicated their decision.

Right now, I was about to go down to the courthouse to pick up a new batch of prisoners. Was I not worried about leaving the six I had just caned alone in my house? Not a bit. I knew each would perform the household tasks I had allotted them and would be lined up just as they were now, just inside the front door and ready for inspection when I returned.

It was partly the training I had given them over the last few months but in addition, their controllers would ensure they were where they were supposed to be in the house; when they were supposed to be there; and that their muscles were all working flat out during the time of work.

Controllers? Ah, these ingenious devices had been invented just for us correctors, although any male could buy one for his wife/daughter/sister/niece/mother or any female under his control if he so wished.

They were made of a stainless steel alloy that was so hard, even a diamond drill would have had difficulty in penetrating it, and comprised two large hollow tubes and a connecting rod that could be attached to couplings at their bottom ends. One tube went into the female's vagina, the other into her anus. Once both tubes were inserted fully so that only the bottom rim of the tube was visible at either the vagina or anus, you just had to touch the ends of the rod to its appropriate socket on the tube and they were locked together, physically and electrically. It was now impossible to remove them without the key.

Each tube was ten centimetres long and four wide so they really opened the respective body cavities. The anal tube had a valve built into it near the base, while the vaginal model was made to accommodate the female urinary function with a catheter that went right up into her bladder, allowing her liquid wastes into the tube but similarly blocking its final exit with an identical valve. Only I could open these valves and I used this control over their urinary and excreting functions to assist in managing them.

The electronic wizardry built into them was a sheer marvel, at least to my untechnical mind. The reaction between their body chemicals and the metal created a constant source of power. This was used by the ultra-sophisticated global positioning system built into the units to ensure they stayed or went to where they were supposed to. This was easily programmed for each prisoner by voice commands to the controller unit that was part of my cell phone.

The unit also sensed whether they were working or not.

Work was a part of their every waking moment. Except when I inspected their naked bodies, they had to be active at all times. Even a moment's rest brought a painful shock - yes, between their anus and their clit, perhaps the most sensitive parts of their bodies so it didn't need much voltage to make them jump a mile. You can see, therefore, that I had no fear they might try to leave my house or to slack in their duties.

Off I went. Did I use my little hovercar to get to the courthouse? No I didn't. Whenever possible, I used my little gig, pulled of course by one of my prisoners. As I went out my front door, there she was, as naked as the six still inside the house (for females under training or punishment were always kept naked, even out in public to further shame them and to show other females how bad it would be if they too fell by the wayside) and I climbed up into the seat, took up the reins and shook them against her athletic back muscles.

She took off and I grinned as I watched the two dildos (which now replaced her controller) moving as she got up to a trot and then a gallop. These gigs were attached to the prisoners by means of a single pole that went up between their thighs. The two dildos were attached to this: one went into her vagina, the other up her backside. Oh yes, it was painful for them, but pain was a necessary part of every prisoner's correction and while we weren't actively aiming to damage her reproductive organs, if it happened, too bad!

This prisoner, Number 26, had a superb body. She had been good when I acquired her some six months earlier but after my regime of plain food, hard work and even harder physical exercise, it had developed into a dream. I knew her husband would be very pleased with my efforts when I delivered her back to him in a week or so.