Still Under His Eyes

"Now you should all clean up and eat. It's one hour till showtime. Break a leg!"

The scratchy speaker shut off. My friends started yelling again. Nothing happened. We milled around and argued. Most eventually went into the bath (one big shower stall, one big tub, three sinks, three toilets, no privacy) and the kitchen (electric stove and big fridge, two tables, ten chairs, two sinks, no windows).

I noticed a metal band riveted around my ankle. I could not get it off. I saw that all of us wore these bands. I wondered, What's this? I soon found out.

Three things happened simultaneously when the clock on the wall read five minutes before the hour. The lights changed from green to yellow. The klaxon honked once. And all of us jumped and twitched. The ankle band shocked me! Shocked everyone!

Randy's scratchy voice filled the room.

"That's a tiny, tiny taste of punishment, guys. It can get really painful, and it can be directed at anyone personally, like that little butt-fucker Zev there."

Zev spasmed, fell, and cried out in pain.

"Or that arrogant bitch Millie."

She screamed and fell, apparently unconscious.

"I can dispense rewards, too. Roz seems pretty deserving."

Roz screamed and collapsed too, but in ecstasy, not agony. Her little hands dug at her little pussy. The rest of us (except passed-out Zev and Millie) felt compelled to grab at our genitals too. Ooohhhh...

"Nice, huh? My radio technician did well. Anyway, it's time for a test run. Go help yourselves to lubes and aphrodisiacs from the dispensers. When the light goes red in four minutes, start fucking. Fuck well and you'll be rewarded. Perform badly and, well, you won't like what happens. Have fun, kids!" The speaker clicked off.

Kayleigh slapped at Roz, Zev and Millie to rouse them. The rest of us fought to get at the dispensers.

I lubed-up as fast as I could. I was airtight with Hideo up my ass, Jean-Claude in my pussy, and Javier in my mouth when the lights went red. No shock! Oh good!

We performed for an hour. Various pains and pleasures were administered electrically but not to me. The lights flashed yellow and then switched to green. Randy's TV face and voice returned.

"That was a good start. I know you'll get the glitches worked out. Ta ta."

--

That was five years ago.

We sixteen are still alive, still prisoners, still sex-show performers. We have a little gym to keep ourselves in shape - and we do; nobody wants the punishment. We can watch TV when we're not on-the-air so we have some idea of the outside world. Too bad the USA's acting president is not as good an actor as Linus or Zev.

I do not know what happened with my twins. I do not really care. I CANNOT really care. If I cared, I would go mad.

Life goes on with our well-practiced routine. Play for the cameras, to entertain the perverts, to keep Randy rewarding us and not punishing us. Yes, my little life is a full-time sex party.

And it still happens right under his eyes.

*****

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This mad BTB fantasy by Hypoxia is copyright (c) 2014 and likely has no redeeming social or artistic qualities. Get out your poison pens, folks. This is dedicated to the real Randy, who deserves better. I borrowed the shrinking chemical idea from my story RANDY'S REVENGE (THE PHARMACIST) which might be approved here on LIT someday. (Spoiler: He's a very different Randy.)