FUTUREWORLD
Author: John Crouch sixbest675@aol.com
Karl stepped out of the electron scrubber clean and refreshed and hurriedly slipped into his body suit. He was late and anxious to make up the time. Slipping into the hybrid-engine transporter he punched in the name of the Earth Museum and settled back for the brief journey. This was the third of his visits and would cover Education. In previous days, Paul, his allocated tutor, had covered Health, Warfare and Housing. Karl had been amazed at how little he himself knew about the "Mother Planet" and Paul was an entertaining and amusing guide.
They met up in the vast, pressurised, reception atrium, checked in their outer body suits and set off to the bank of elevators. At the fifty-fifth floor they entered the Education department. It was still early and very few people had yet taken their places before the banks of flat-liquid viewer screens and no queue had yet formed at the desk where the SIP’s (silicon information packs) were logged and issued.
Later, in one of the side rooms allocated to tutored students, despite his shock at the morning lecture, Karl was laughing at Paul and saying:
"Oh come on now you have to be kidding! You mean to say that at just the moment when all development had ceased and effectively these young men’s bodies were already just starting to degenerate, those in charge of them deliberately damaged them?"
The Health module of the course had already made a deep impression on Karl. He had been shocked at just how recently gene banks had been set up to maintain and preserve the integrity of the human blueprint. How recently it had become possible that Paul and he could both look like twenty year olds despite their real age gap of some twenty years. Why even his own father had only been ‘fixed’ after ten years of ‘old-decline’ and could now expect to maintain the equivalent body status of an historic ‘thirty-something’ year old.
Paul smiled. He always enjoyed the reaction of his pupils to certain aspects of 18th to 20th century Education.
"They didn’t know that. Even in the late nineteen-sixties when the first signs of abolition started to come along, it was for ‘humanitarian’ reasons and associated ‘human dignity’ issues that it was phased out. There were calls for it to be reintroduced throughout the nineties and as late as twenty-forty! Besides, the bruising and discomfort were passing things and sunlight damage and the loss of DNA integrity were what caused their real problems".
"But they hit them with branches and with bits of animal skin?" Karl couldn’t quite get his head round this thought. It was oddly disturbing. He found himself wondering what it would be like to force a youngman to submit to that ordeal and more so to inflict that punishment. From occasional past experience Paul had a shrewd idea what was going on behind these enquiries and behind that puzzled frowning expression. He liked Karl and wondered whether to try out once again his favourite follow up.
"Tell you what " he said "when we have finished the official course material we’ll revert to this and I will show what isn’t formally in the Course A past Professor has taken a particular interest in this topic and his labours are well worth a look. But, I must warn you not to discuss it with your friends as it is all classified as ‘unsuitable material’ for Beta’s and below." He smiled at his own private little joke, which passed unnoticed by Karl.
Over the next three hours they finished the course material for the day. Karl’s concentration seemed less than on previous days and Paul had a fair idea of the speculation that was distracting this erstwhile star pupil. After they had returned and logged back the numerous SIP’s that they had needed Karl was almost vibrating with anticipation. A feeling he couldn’t understand.
Paul led the way and they descended by elevator to sub basement 14. Paul tracked down one of the technicians there whom he obviously knew well.
"You want the nineteen-fifties thing?" was his cryptic greeting to Paul, who nodded a ‘yes’. Paul ushered Karl through to a viewing theatre and they took two front row seats. After a moment the technician reappeared and joined them. The lights dimmed and the screen flickered.
"It’s been remastered and enhanced but you’ll see lines through it. It’s a very primitive recording medium but I’ve done my best" the technician told Karl. A few flashes of random colour lit the screen, then a caption sprang out- "Caught Stealing Tuck" Paul murmured explanations quietly to Karl.
"Tuck was some sort of food or confectionery and seems to have been a treat or a diet supplement for schoolboys, we’re not entirely sure. But it was obviously prized and this thing concerns a pupil who has stolen someone else’s ration of it and been caught".
The whole screen filled with a huge, smeary brown and to Karl’s eyes, clumsily made door.
"That’s wood-skimmed trees screwed and glued together" Paul explained. An arm appeared wrapped in an outer sleeve of heavy grey material. The hand knocked nervously.
"ENTER". A loud voice, evidently from within. As the door opened and the viewpoint moved back, Karl saw that a youngman not unlike Paul, but dressed in the old fashioned costume that he had seen in the fashion module of his course, was entering a gloomy and smoky room. He stopped before a huge, old fashioned desk. Behind it sat a frighteningly deteriorated man with what looked like a large black billowing sheet draped over his 20th century garb..
The story unfolded before them on the screen. Karl felt hot, clammy and disturbed. Partly he felt the way that he had felt watching an old fashioned human reproduction archive that had shown direct insemination of female by male before the gene exchange banks had been set up.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, acutely aware of Paul and the technician either side of him. The youngman was now folded across the desk face forward and the olden was lifting the hem of the youngman’s jacket and smoothing the material of his trousers so that the outline of his backside showed clearly through it.
"That’s wood too" said Paul as the olden swished a thin brown rod through the air "the thin branch of some sort of shrub or small tree. It’s called bamboo and still grows on earth at the plant preservation stations". With a heady mixture of fascination and horror Karl watched as the bamboo was tapped lightly against the youngman’s backside. The tight, shiny, old fashioned trousers, so unfamiliar, seemed, to him, to enhance the form and outline of those exceptionally muscled and perfect arse globes bursting out from the tapered waist. He almost turned away as the rod flew back, hesitated a second and then flew forward towards it’s target. THWACK and then instead of the cry of anguish he had expected just a groan from the youngman. Then the cycle repeated.
"But he isn’t restrained or secured in any way…why doesn’t he get up…?" Karl blurted out. Paul had laughed and replied
"He knows he would get more!". At this the technician laughed too.
"The ‘master’ here has absolute power and authority over the youngman. If he resisted he would get additional treatment until he finally submitted fully. If he resisted violently, as he obviously could, as a youngman against an olden, then the ‘master’ would simply enlist a number of other youngmen to restrain him and they would do it willingly and the result would be the same."
"And, believe it or not, he would also have lost face among his equals" added Paul.
Karl watched with excitement as a further four heavy shots landed upon the youngman. He also noted with admiration that though the grunts had turned to more entreating sobbing sounds the youngman was containing himself overall. Karl couldn’t contain his curiosity.
"Is this real" he said "I mean no special effects". Paul nodded at the technician, deferring to him.
"No straightforward answer to that" he began "originally we thought it entirely original and as you will see now " He pointed Karl back at the screen where the scene had changed. The same youngman was now in a steaming water shower, naked. Other youngmen were gathered round him. He was displaying for them, quite unashamedly, his smooth, muscled cheeks and the dramatic red wheals upon them.
Karl gasped at this and remembered having to attend a clinic for weeks after just spraining an ankle!
The technician had continued.
"We know by analysis there are no special effects and these marks are entirely consistent with what we have seen happen but where we are puzzled, is that hundreds and hundreds of these events happened so why was this one recorded. The professor has a very uncertain theory that this may have been made as some form of entertainment". Paul raised an eyebrow at this comment and seemed amused. The technician continued:
"A sort of re-enactment by a brave or very well rewarded actor. But I don’t buy that theory since they had the special effects to have done the whole thing without the need for actually doing it for real!" Paul turned away for a moment and Karl thought that he had missed something in this exchange.
But Karl made no response since he would have had a dilemma in doing so. He had suddenly become aware both from a certain physical response and from his imagination that there was another reason why someone might be prepared to take the victim’s role. He had also realised that he had been trying very hard to imagine the level of pain that might be encountered.
The technician rose from his seat. He glanced at the timer on his wrist.
"Gotta go now, see you guys" he had smiled at both of them and then, directed to Paul
"Leave the other one running for you?" Paul looked at Karl, noted the flushed face and the tension in him. Looked back to the technician.
"Yep, please. You coming back?"
The technician nodded a ‘no’. As he reached the back of the theatre he said over his shoulder
"Machine will turn off by itself. Have fun".
The next recording was brighter and more modern. Karl fidgeted and wished that he was watching it alone. He was acutely aware of Paul being so close in the adjoining seat. This time the participants were both youngmen and the ‘victim’ wore small white shorts and a sort of sleeveless tee shirt. Karl had to turn away and settle low and hunched in his seat as the youngman’s shorts came down. He nearly burst when the white undergarment followed. Paul added quiet footnotes as the events unfolded.
"That’s a communal gymnasium-they used to exercise and build up their muscles there-electro stimulation was starting but very crude-that’s a paddle-wooden crafted handle and leather at the point of contact-that’s the bamboo again."
This time, to Karl’s eye, the results looked like they should have been almost fatal. Karl dreaded the ending and the lights going up. Form fitting fabrics had their downside.
But when the show ended Paul seemed happy to remain seated a while in the dimly lit theatre.
"There is one more thing that you might like to see" he offered.
Karl fought between preserving his now settling state and his burning desire to explore this subject further. Paul pressed the button in the arm of his chair and the light rose to a background level. He bent over the smooth steel cabinet
"Follow me". Karl followed Paul’s retreating back, using the opportunity to smooth out his clothing.
Paul led on down a shiny steel clad corridor and then into a side room.
"The professors archives" he grinned, waiving his hand toward the glass topped display cases. Karl moved around the cases looking at both the very implements he had just seen featured and many variations upon their theme. He stopped at the sight of one very yellowed and long bamboo. He noted the ridges and unevenness of it and the shaped crooked handle. He noted the thickness and evident weight of it. Paul noted the interest. He stepped forward and punched some numbers into the keypad at the side of the case. The glass top slid back with a sigh of hydraulics. He lifted out the cane. A small red light began flashing on the panel above the case. Paul punched in another number and it stopped.
He handed the cane to Karl. Karl took it gingerly as though he feared it might bite or be red-hot. Paul smiled back at him. Karl swished it gently then more vigorously recognising even in this lighter atmosphere the hiss that he had so recently heard on the sound track. He held out his palm and slapped the cane onto it, trying to gauge the pressure and feel of it. His mouth felt dry. Paul had moved to the door, which now hissed shut. A green secure light came on above it. Paul turned to Karl.
"You wanna try it?". Karl started to reply, hesitated, cleared the huskiness that had caught in his throat and said:
"Can we?." Without replying Paul moved back across the room and chose a long low archive cabinet with a smooth steel top. Copying the youngman on the screen he bent right over it crossing his hands in front of him and pressing his head into his hands. Karl moved to his side his eyes never leaving the taught outline of Paul’s outthrust arse as it presented itself. Again remembering the earlier scenes, Karl said:-
"Right, six of the very best, to start you off". He had had no idea what "very best meant" but it sounded so good! His hands felt clammy suddenly. He swished the cane in the air summoning up the courage to strike, appalled but excited by what he was about to do. SWISSSSHHHHH and then with perfect co-ordination of arm and eye THWWAAACCCKKKK.
Paul moved sharply, not upward as Karl had expected, since he knew he had already got carried away and had hit Paul far harder than he had intended, but just a little sideways. Turning and ducking his head a little as he tensed and absorbed the pain. But he gave no grunt and no cry. Karl felt disappointed since he had wanted it to be exactly the same. Without any conscious thought he raised the bamboo and swung again if anything harder than before SWWWIIISHHHHHHTTHHHWACKKK. And this time he was rewarded with the longed for grunt and a follow up groan. Shocked and almost frightened at his actions he paused waiting for Paul to protest. Paul lifted his head for a moment then let it fall back but otherwise he didn’t move from his submissive position. So what else could he have done?
SSSWWWWWIIISSSSSHHHH…… TTTHHHHAAAAAWWWAAAACCCCKKK.
Three perfect deliveries from a novice who until that day hadn’t even ever thought of this. Karl, who had been amazed now amazed himself . But he desperately needed to see the evidence of what he had inflicted. Again taking his lead from the film, he stepped forward. He reached round Paul and deftly undid the release band of his lower suit. He pulled sharply downward and as the ice blue polyzyler fabric slid smoothly down Paul’s’ solid thighs, his pale backside was revealed. The fresh, sharp red lines looked even more dramatic on this pale flesh that had never seen UV or sunlight. Still and seemingly resolute, Paul made no resistance to this and no attempt to rise. With great care and precision Karl administered three more blistering strokes with the same even pauses between each that he had so recently seen. TTTHHHWWWAAAKKKK ……….. TTTTWAAAACCCKKKK …….. TTTTHHHWWWAAACCCKKK. UUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHH!
As he gazed at the red lines and the almost purplish lumps where they crossed he was suddenly filled with fear. Had he hurt this nice guy? As if in answer Paul turned his head back to smile up at Karl who was reassured. Paul said:
"Is that all Sir?" Another line from the film, but where that had been delivered with cheek and had resulted in a further onslaught, Paul had smiled and risen quietly from the cabinet. He looked over his shoulder and downward trying to view the marks. Then he pulled up and fastened his lower suit. He was still smiling though. His smile faded to a blank expression and a silence ensued as they looked at each other. Karl again felt excitement and apprehension rising within him. Tension hung in the air. Then Paul motioned to Karl that he should pass him the cane. For only an instant Karl feared that it was going back into the display case. He was not surprised though to hear Paul quietly say
"Get yourself into position and I think you might save me the trouble of baring that neat butt of yours"
Karl felt the rise in his pulse to what he felt must have been an amazing 75 or 80. He pushed his backside out and clenched everything from his teeth to his buttocks. Could he take it?
He moved into position. His legs as far apart as the polyzyler trousers around his ankles would permit. His arse pushed up and outward, his thighs absorbing the cool surface of the steel beneath him. By the third stroke he still didn’t know why he wanted this, why this sharp physical sting was so good, he only knew that he it was. The ancient artefact, so carefully preserved, hissed then bit at the alabaster white backside. Karl hissed too as the overwhelming sting registered in his arse and bolted to his brain. As he clenched and jerked about upon the cool steel cabinet, determinedly staying down and savouring every moment and sensation, the vigorous stirring at his crotch was both intense and involuntary. Paul carefully observed all these reactions sharing one at least as he laid the strokes on.
Beyond their room, in another part of the complex, the technician, surrounded by the quiet hum of electronics, watched in amazed silence as a monitor relayed this tableau. He was filled with grudging admiration for Paul, who, had once again organised and supplied a very willing volunteer for the latest and surely the best SIP that he had recorded to date. Paul knew that the Professor, now in an irreversible decline having already been a great age when fixed, would never the less enjoy this latest entertainment . It would be a welcome change for him, incarcerated away from prying eyes, from the usual diet of endless game shows and a very fitting present for Father’s day.