Lucretia overhears the Director’s comments. Two rapid snaps of the whip follow. Right cheek. Left cheek. She then moves her arm to the pony boy’s front and with the motion of a back handed tennis stroke deftly cracks the whip with amazing proximity to the scrotum. The boy jumps, for although the business end does not directly touch the flesh, the nearness of the intensely pressurized air causes sharp pain.
“Canter!”
Lucretia’s command is simple and sharp, and it is timed to be simultaneously comprehended with the arrival of the signal of pain. The pony boy speeds his gait, but Lucretia shakes her head in dismay.
It is amusing that I can determine his approximate level of training by peering at the scrotum, which under standard clinic procedures has been stretched. The sizable testicles bob about at the level of the mid thighs indicating a rather experienced lad. And the unquestioning responses to tugs on the lunge line and snaps of Lucretia’s whip also evidence complete mental subjugation. The infibulated penis has been secured upwards to the bottom of a harness which encircles the torso. Lucretia’s whip has unfettered access to the sensitive scrotal flesh and the restrained penis leaves it a very vulnerable, pink target.
We stand in silence and watch Lucretia work the boy. He begins to perspire and the bit precludes him from controlling the flow of saliva, which drips from his chin, blends with the sweat on his hairless chest and then is flung to the floor with certain exaggerated movements. The whip begins to make impressively loud “smacking” sounds as it strikes wet skin, and the boy seems to react more to the initial sound of a stroke rather than the subsequent pain.
Lucretia displays a confident smile. She is older than most of the behavior specialists and her skill level in handling the whip is commendable. ‘If one must be flogged, better an experienced hand than that of a dilettante,’ I think to myself. The thought emanates from watching the whip graze the boy’s sensitive areas, minimizing damage to the skin but maximizing the intense pain. She truly seems to enjoy making the boy concentrate. He is oblivious to our presence and although partially blinded by the special contact lenses, I doubt his attention would be diverted even if fully sighted. He intently moves and reacts to Lucretia and no matter the gait or direction of motion seems to be eager for the next command or tug so he can demonstrate his compliance without earning a stroke of the whip.
Lucretia seems dissatisfied but notices our fascination.
“He’s ready, Dr. L------. The short pauses and small peccadilloes in dressage are actually his way of playing. As happens with the pony boys, they get frisky. They oddly begin to enjoy the searing heat of a good snap of the whip and this one is no different. We’re communicating by way of his resistance, however minor it is. But if I get serious with the whip, he’ll get serious with his compliance.”
It is an interesting observation. I can not detect a single flaw in the boy’s dressage. The eye of the perspicacious Lucretia, however, not only perceives that his steps are not sharp but also understands why.
“For his next exercise, I will heat the floor. Then you will see him prance like a ballet dancer.”
The Director smiles.
“An expensive but interesting feature. At Lucretia’s discretion the stone track can be heated to over two hundred degrees. Even the most recalcitrant of pony boys finds himself reacting to the bit and bridle at that temperature. The feet cannot remain on the hot stone, and the pony boy welcomes the tugs on Lucretia’s control line and the crack of the whip. The need to keep the feet from touching the floor instills obedience and results in a good lathering.”
We leave Lucretia as another command has her pony boy prancing on toes, with each step drawing the knees well above the waist. This causes the huge gonads to bounce about in a peculiar fashion, and it’s interesting to watch the experienced pony boy adjust the timing of his steps to coincide with the wild swinging of his lengthy scrotum.
The elevator takes us to the first floor. The administrative offices of the clinic prove to be boring. No naked protégés are present. But what is interesting is that much of the clerical work is performed by middle aged males. They quietly sit in a large, one room office presumably keeping the books, paying the bills, and perhaps arranging the logistics for the receipt of candidates and delivery of subjugants.
They all humbly look down as the Director passes through, and an ominous silence seems to roll through the room as we move to the rear.
“You’ll find the loading dock to be of interest, Doctor. And a separate elevator takes us down to the initial reception area.”
A door takes us to the rear of the building. There we enter what appears to be the loading area for a standard warehouse operation. Two high, overhead doors permit trucks to back into the building to a platform some four feet above a recessed loading pit.
Sturdy, wooden boxes are piled against a far wall. Their coffin-like appearance causes a
degree of discomfort.
“The boys arrive and leave with the complete anonymity afforded by these boxes, Doctor. They’re actually well padded and quite comfortable once a candidate is secured inside. We’ve found over the years it is best for all concerned that their ability to resist be non-existent.
And here is where the candidate is ringed.”
Yes, with the controlling ring. The director leads me to what can only be described as a modified gynecologist’s examination chair. Modified with large, thick straps that is.
“The candidate is strapped into the chair. His feet placed in stirrups. Thighs widely spread. His assigned behavior specialist introduces herself in performing a simple but permanent procedure to emphasize her control.”
On the wall behind the chair hang dozens of rings of varying diameters. To the side is a what appears to be a huge set of pliers.
“Not as evil as it appears, Doctor. After the ring is slipped on, this device crimps it into more of a figure eight shape. Like this.”
She hands me a ring that has been crimped by squeezing opposite points on the circumference almost together. The metal is strong and despite its modest gauge I cannot bend it. Once placed around the scrotum and crimped, it is obvious that it cannot be slipped off.
“We have found that it is important for the assigned behavior specialist to be the woman who permanently attaches the ring. An obvious symbolic gesture, but one which is easily understood by the candidate. Once this is in place, he’s here to stay. Let me show you.”
The Director retrieves an electrical device similar to that held by Greta. She pushes and holds a button. The ring in my hand heats, then I can feel a tingle of electricity. She releases the button.
“That’s just a warning charge. Easy to bear on the tough skin of the hand, but on the sensitive scrotal flesh, it gets attention. Had I continued, you would have gotten a nice shock.
“As mentioned every doorway is charged.”