Wages of Sin

Steven said something that was muffled to her hearing.

The warden replied in a patient tone, "Spare me the excuses, Steven. If you wanted to, you'd make time. You'd find the energy. And now you see what happens when you don't."

The next man came and went. The third man arrived for his reeducation.

The warden of the male prisoners started his questions over again with each new man. Anne Marie noted that he was much less original and astute than Warden Jefferies. Instead, he seemed to have a bank of questions that he cycled through. To his credit, that stable of queries was potent.

"Don't you see how right this feels?"

"She loves it and she wants more of you. Why don't you give it to her?"

"Have you ever felt skin so soft on a man?"

"This is what God wants for you. Don't you want to please Him?"

Each man twisted. The men new to their sentences were easy to identify: they cracked and cried under the pressure of these questions. The men deeper into their sentences tried to stand resolute and just continue their forced violation of the Thomas's marital bed. Those towards the end of their sentences and seem to be numb to the activity, just wanting it to conclude so their debt to society would be considered paid.

The day wore on in that fashion. The men came, then came, and went. Anne Marie tried to count the men, but lost track between 20 and 30. Around that point, the pleasure she was feeling between her legs had converted to pure pain. Her clitoris was sore and swollen and her vagina was raw. She knew her orgasms were purely biological reactions to stimuli. They were cold and sterile with all the passion of a sneeze.

Over the course of the day, Steven relaxed in his seat. The guard no longer had to restrain him. He watched without struggle, but Anne Marie could see his mix of pity and shame and anger. Mostly, she saw the helplessness in his eyes; she felt it in her own soul. If she had foreseen that one feature, she wondered if she would have committed her crime.

Midday came and everyone stopped for lunch. The flow of men paused and everyone left the couple alone in the room. Anne Marie was practically insensate, though she tried to reach out to Steven. In a moment, he seemed to have vanished, but that could have been the effect of her blacking out. When she came to, she found herself propped against Steven's chest with a cold compress to her head and a bag of ice between her legs. The ice felt good, but she wondered why it didn't melt instantly when pressed against the heat that still burned her. She felt a straw against her lips and realized Steven was trying to give her something to drink. She sipped and tasted an energy drink. She didn't know if it would be a good or bad thing to have more energy in a situation like this.

"I can't do it," she mumbled. "I just can't."

"I know, honey, I know," he said. "It'll be OK. Maybe they'll see it's too much for you and stop."

"No, they won't. They're punishing me. And I want it. I still want it." She started to cry. "Please, fuck me," she said through her tears.

Steven kissed her head and held her to his chest. His musky scent sent her into another cold and sterile orgasm. Then she passed out.

Anne Marie awoke to find a black guy on top of her. She looked for the clock and realized it was 4 PM. She had slept for 3 solid hours. Sensation was lost and not just between her legs. This sentence seemed to have done its best to kill a piece of her soul.

And this was just the first day.

*****

Section 2: Tonya Jacobs

Tonya stood in defiance, her shoulders back and her chest out, though her head hung in penitence as ceremony and law demanded. She breathed deeply to calm her nerves, not letting the Judge or Executer see her in panic, fear, or shame. The punishment was worth the crime. Any single moment she spent in Anne Marie's embrace was worth any justice to be doled out here. She stood as strong as she dared stand. Yet, she kept her head down.

Wearing her inmate/hospital gown, she faced her Executer and ignored the presence of the guards behind her. Before her was a table covered in blue silk. On the table were a red pill, a syringe with clear liquid tinted pink, and a glass of water.

The Judge stood. "It is time to mete Justice. Let those to be punished step forward."

Tonya stepped forward as requested.

The Judge said, "Tonya Jacobs. You have been found guilty of crimes against Nature and Law in the act of Homosexual Carnal Relations. This cannot go unpunished. Sentences are to be executed immediately.

"The sentence for your participation in the criminal acts is Hydraic Corrective Brachial Generation for one week. Will you submit to the punishment?"

Tonya picked her head up and looked at her Executer. She opened her mouth, like a parishioner waiting for the priest to offer a communion wafer. The Executer placed the red pill on her tongue and offered the glass of water. She swallowed the pill followed by water and returned the glass. With her punishment accepted, she stepped back and waited.

"Your sentence," the Judge continued, "will begin tomorrow and will last for seven days. You are to report to your home and wait for it to begin. May God be with you."

The medication made her stomach churn, but she resisted the urge to allow any discomfort to show. Instead, she turned and walked out in a dignified manner. This proceeding may have intimidated others, but she would not allow it to intimidate her. She was stronger than the DoC.

It was late when the court was done processing her and allowed her to go home to start her sentence. She did not arrive at her apartment until well after midnight. By that time, the uneasiness in her stomach had escalated to full, vomit-inducing nausea. She resisted the urge to give in until she was alone in her flat. All she wanted the assholes at the Department of Corrections to see was that she was not to be broken. Even the physical sickness that seemed to be the goal of the pill would not cause her to behave in any manner other than "business as usual." But after she opened the door to her flat and closed it behind her, she bolted for the bathroom and vomited into the toilet. It looked like blood, but lacked the coppery taste. As far as she could tell from the amount of red goop she vomited repeatedly, whatever the pill contained seemed to be greatly increasing in mass.

When the vomiting and retching stopped, Tonya rested on the cold tile floor and tried to appreciate the moments of calm. She stripped out of her street clothes when she walked to her bed. In moments, she was lying on top of her covers, nude, and in a deep sleep.

Moments of time shared with Anne Marie wafted through her mind, as welcome as a cool breeze on a sunny day. Anne Marie was not the first woman that Tonya ever loved, but she was probably the first she loved so deeply. She was beautiful and innocent and kind and trusting and all those things one desires in a soul mate. Why Anne Marie's husband did not appreciate the beauty of the woman he married was a fact that Tonya would never understand. His loss was her gain, however. It wasn't hard to seduce Anne Marie. Quickly, they went from flirtatious interactions to passionate rendezvous. In her dream, Anne Marie's soft naked form pressed against hers and they wrapped their arms around each other in a soft but deep kiss. Tonya could smell her vanilla-scented body wash and taste her cherry-flavored lips. Anne Marie's blonde hair fell across Tonya's face and she could smell her lilac shampoo. She was a feast for all senses and Tonya devoured her with rapacious delight.

Suddenly, Tonya felt stabbing pains. In the ending moments of her dream, Anne Marie had two knives dug into her sides and was using them to slice open her ribcage from her arms to her hips. Tonya screamed like a woman in labor, and tried to fend off her dream attacker. Anne Marie fought back, slapping Tonya across the face again and again. Tonya awoke, feeling those slaps happen again and again, even as she entered the waking world.

She opened her eyes and stared at her dark ceiling. There was a brief moment when the stinging on her face seemed to be fading with the dream. When the next slap came, Tonya knew her attacker was no dream. She scrambled to get out of the bed and fell off the side, hitting her head on the hardwood floor. She struggled to get to her feet, but her balance was thrown off by extra weight. Her arms kept getting entangled with some kind of rope. In trying to push the rope away, she felt it move. Muscles, skin and bone curled around her. My attacker is behind me, she thought. Tonya dove forward, tripping over the bed again and landing on the floor. She managed to switch the room lights on and get a glance at the empty room. There was no one behind her, but something kept hampering her efforts to move. Before she could calm, another slap from the "rope" sent her sprawling across her dresser. That was when she saw herself in the mirror.

In spite of her swelling eye and bloody lip, her attention was drawn to the new pair of arms that stuck out of her sides, right where Anne Marie had dug her knives in her dream. Two perfect arms snaked out, moving sporadically for no other apparent reason than to throw her off balance. For a moment, her reflection reminded her of Vishnu – that is if the extra arms on Vishnu were trying to attack her.

They swung wildly, jerking Tonya from side to side until she lost her balance again and landed on her bare bottom. Her mind whirled as she continued to wrestle with her new appendages. I've got to be able to control these things, she thought. She fought with the arms until she could grab them by the wrists and pin them down with her body weight. For a moment, they were subdued.

"I need help," she said to herself. Briefly, she considered calling Anne Marie. The arms started to squirm and fight for freedom. When she decided to call Chaz instead, the arms relaxed. She pinned her right extra arm with her knee, freeing her hand to grab her cellphone which had fallen off the dresser. She speed-dialed Chaz and waited.

Chaz's smooth but sleepy voice answered after the fifth ring. "Hello?"

"Chaz, it's Tonya."

The sound of Chaz shifting position preceded his reply. "Hey. Hey! What's up? What's going on? What did they hit you with?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

"Well, I know the Department of Corrections is trying to be creative with their punishments, now that the prisons are full. And nowadays-"

"Chaz, shut up!" He was probably the smartest man she knew, but he was prone to longwinded expositions. "The judge said my sentence was 'Hydraulic Corrective Brachial Generation.' What do you know about it?"

"OK, ok, think, think." She knew he was tapping his head with the heel of his free hand, as was his thinking ritual. "Well, 'brachial' means 'arms-related' and 'generation' means 'growth'. So, we're probably looking at some sort of change or growth involving your arms."

"I can account for that. What about 'corrective'?"

"Well, we're talking about the DoC and crime, right? This is a sentence. This change will relate back to your crime and some effort to cure you of it."

"So, they want me to just not be gay?"

"Knowing the government, that's not good enough. They want you to be straight."

"So, I should have sex with a man?" She wondered what kind of man would want to have sex with a four-armed lesbian. Then, she figured she could probably find someone willing to do it just to be able to tell his friends that he did it.

"Or maybe at least think about it or want to do it. Something along those lines. I have no idea where 'hydraulic' comes into play. Did they use any kind of machinery on you?"

"No. Can you look into it and see if you find anything?"

"Sure thing, sweetie. Do you need anything else?"

"I might." The arms started to briefly fight back, but she kept them pinned to the floor. "Do you have a sharp axe?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Not much need for an axe in a city, hon."

"Tomorrow morning, get one and come over to my place."

Chaz agreed to run the errand before hanging up.

In line with Chaz's advice, Tonya tried to flood her mind with thoughts of men in various "sexy" poses and states of undress. She thought of every sex scene involving a man she could imagine from every movie she'd ever seen. Obsessing over heterosexual intercourse seemed to do the trick. As long as she was fixated on sex with men, then the arms behaved and stayed under control. The second she let the thought of even a touch between lesbians, the arms started to stir and swing at her. When she returned to guy-on-girl action, they relaxed.

She checked the clock. 4 AM. She needed to try to get to some sleep. Still focused on heterosexual passion, she climbed onto her bed, lay on her back, and imagined rams copulating with ewes as they leaped over fences. The thought made her smile and managed to keep the arms subdued. As she drifted off, the sheep were replaced with men and women floating over fences in various positions and acts. Normally, not an exciting thought, but tonight, she felt herself growing more aroused with each passing couple. One moment, a black man was sending a white woman into rapturous delight from behind. The next, an older man and a younger woman were in classic missionary position. That was followed by two teens doing a very respectable reverse cowgirl.

In her dream, she floated closer and closer to the drifting couples. She was close enough to hear him call her a whore and watch the painful pleasure on her face as he yanked back on her hair. The next couple was locked in a 69 and Tonya could smell the scent of her hair and hear the sound of the woman sucking the man to ecstasy. She grew hotter and her dream more perverted with exhibits of proper heterosexual behavior with each pass. In the next floating couple, the man was behind the woman, holding her close to his body, one hand buried between her legs and the other roughly handling her breasts. Tonya felt those hands on her body as if she were the woman. She felt him get her off with his hands and could feel his hard prick pressed into the small of her back, knowing where he wanted to put it next. He whispered in her ear, "You love this, don't you bitch? You want this. You need this." She tried to deny it, but the mounting orgasm turned her reply false and kicked her out of her dream state.

Thrust into the waking world, she felt the shake and shiver of her pleasure flow through her and mount again. She felt hands on her and sleepily wondered if her dream partner were real and getting her off for a second time. Looking down, she realized the hands giving such pleasure were the new extra limbs growing out of her sides. She grabbed their wrists and tried to push them away. The second orgasm hampered her efforts to resist the stimulation.

When it ended, she successfully subdued the appendages, but only while she still thought of heterosexual sex. The clock said 8 AM. She considered trying to get more sleep, when she heard Chaz call from the other room, "Tonya, honey? You here?"

"I'm in here!" she called back. She heard the door close and approaching footsteps before Chaz entered the room.

He gasped and dropped something heavy. "Holy hell! What the fuck happened to you?"

"What's it look like!" she screamed back at him. "Did you bring the axe?"

"Yeah, it's right here." Chaz picked up what he dropped and walked over to the bed. "Tonya, honey, this ain't good."

"Like I don't fucking know that?" she shouted back at him. "You've got to cut these things off me, Chaz."

The extra arms broke free of Tonya's grasp. One swung upward and hit Tonya on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes instantly watered and the room started to grow dim. She felt herself lunge towards Chaz. When she shook the fog that tried to dim her thoughts, she found her offending limbs choking Chaz. Tonya grabbed the thumbs and pulled, giving Chaz room to break away. When a hand reached into his mouth and grab his jaw, he bit down on the fingers as hard as possible. Her own scream caught Tonya off guard. She had not realized that she felt anything from these new limbs.

Chaz scrambled away and held the axe in a defensive posture. "What the hell, Tonya?"

Tonya grabbed the bed with her natural hands while the others still lunged and swung at Chaz. "I know. This is fucked up. This is what we're going to do. First, you're going to knock me out. Then, you're going to tie me and these damn arms down. Then, you're going to take that axe and chop them off." She spoke in a level and almost business-like tone.

"Honey, you're volunteering for a traumatic, non-surgical amputation. This could kill you. Have you thought this through?"

"I've thought that I'm not going to get through the next week with these things alternating between feeling me up and trying to knock me out! And now, they attack my friends! Chaz, are you going to do this or not?"

"You'll feel it!"

"I don't care!"

The flailing arms punched and scratched at Tonya's hands that were holding on to the bed. She lost her grip. Soon, she was staggering towards Chaz, her natural arms reaching for something else to grab to hold herself back, her new arms reaching for Chaz. He used the axe to block the reach. He lunged into Tonya's unbalanced figure and she went down face first. She felt something drive into the back of her neck and everything when black.

When she came to, she was face down on the bed, natural arms and legs tied to the corner posts, new arms stretching out to the side, tied to things she couldn't see.

"Chaz?" She said.

"I'm here, honey," he said from her side. She turned to see him sitting in a chair with the axe in his hand. "I can't do this to you."

"Then do it FOR me. These things are constantly trying to hurt you or me. The only time they won't is when I think pornographic thoughts. I can't hold those thoughts for an entire week. I just can't. These things are going to kill me."

"But-"

"Please, Chaz." She started to cry with her pleading.

Chaz tried to ignore her pleadings, but lost the battle with his love for his best friend. He grabbed two belts and climbed on the bed behind her line of sight. She felt him move and fuss and, in short order, the belts were wrapped around the shoulders of the new arms and cinched up tight. With the blood flow restricted, her new arms started to tingle and turn blue. After some minutes, they numbed.

She felt him dismount the bed and sensed he was standing behind her. The head of the axe rested on her new right arm. She felt the blade edge poised and balanced. Hearing the whistle of the axe swinging up, she bit the mattress beneath her. The axe fell and her new right arm fell away and down to the floor. She screamed in pain, but tears on her face could have been for joy. Either way, she tried to remain still. If she reacted too much, Chaz would lose his nerve to address her left arm. Chaz did not let her down, however. Soon, both new arms lay lifeless on the floor.

Her binds were loosened. She buried her face in the pillow and screamed and cried. She felt the pain of those amputations and even the phantom sensations she had heard amputees feel. As Chaz set her free, she felt arms that weren't there reaching to choke him. She rolled to her back and looked up at her liberator.

"Honey, you look like hell," he said.

"You don't look much better." She smiled weakly.

His smile was weaker than hers. "I should get you to a hospital."

"NO!" she stopped him from scooping up her nude figure. "They'll figure it out and probably alert the Light Patrol." He thought better of it and sat in his chair again. Tonya sat up in the bed to see herself in the dresser mirror. The stumps stuck out of her ribcage and wriggled slightly. They were unsightly but harmless. Sitting quietly for some moments, Tonya looked at her new figure and Chaz looked at Tonya. "So, now, what do we do?" she asked.