Chapter 4

Much to Salwa’s relief, it turned out that she hadn’t forgotten to opt in for the lube. The assistant confirmed as much. Thank goodness for that. She didn’t know how she would have made it through the awfulness of the entire thing when she hadn’t taken so much as a finger down there before. In both her vagina and her anus, and some wild part of her brain wondered if she should mark it down as a first. There was no time for such depressing thoughts though as the man led her down the narrow and winding path of another hallway, and soon she found herself faced with what could only be described as just another normal door.

Room #3A, the sign read. Aside from that, there were no other markings that could have told her what it was for. How wonderful. The assistant raised his hand to knock, and a voice called out from the other side. For some reason that was hard to explain, it sounded pleasantly cheerful.

“Enter,” it said.

Salwa hesitated as she opened the door. For a moment, she expected the inside of an execution chamber. Instead of an endless row of medieval instruments decorating the walls, however, the only thing that greeted her was a small desk set to the side and a machine placed in the middle of the room. Shaped somewhat like a padded examination bench, the only thing that betrayed its purpose were the restraints set on all four corners and the extended arm of a piston set parallel with the floor.

Even to her own inexperienced glance though, already it was obvious what it was for.

“Salwa Farouk?” said Officer Hughes.

He glanced over at her as if he was waiting for an answer, and it was only after another moment had passed that Salwa dared to nod. Her chest felt way too tight to form any words.

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled.

“Good,” he said, “And you’re here for a J39, correct? Changed over from a J40 at the last minute by order of the court?”

“Yes sir,” she said again.

“Well then,” he said, beaming out at her a little more, “Welcome to the Punishment Center, I’m Officer Hughes. Also, since this is your first time here, I think we should go over a couple of the rules.”

He waved for her to take a seat by the desk, and slowly she obeyed. The entire conversation felt way too friendly for this to be normal. The man glanced over at her again, and it was hard to stop herself from reaching over to cover her front. A mocking voice called out inside her head. They hadn’t even made her take off her clothes yet, and she was already starting to blush.

All of a sudden, her hijab felt woefully insufficient. She flinched as the officer raised his hand. Nothing else seemed to happen though as he reached over to take something out of a drawer, and it was only after a surreal moment of fear that she realized that it was just a regular sheet of paper.

“Now, rule number one,” he said. He spoke slowly so she could follow, “While technically this is still a punishment, I would like to remind you that your safety is our number one concern. There have been way too many cases in the past where the subject was harmed due to a mistake, so if you feel unwell at any point please let us know.”

“Does that include…,” said Salwa.

She gestured towards the machine. To her surprise, the officer seemed to take this as a serious question.

“Well of course,” he said, “Under the current laws, you retain the right to have the session paused at any time if you feel that it’s too much. However, I feel that I should warn you first. If we find out afterwards that there was nothing actually wrong with the current settings, then the punishment will only be reset and the overall time doubled. So only use it if it’s an emergency, okay?”

He waited for her to process the information, and Salwa swallowed again from the dryness in her throat.

“Okay,” she agreed weakly.

“Great!” said the officer. He beamed out at her like she had just won an award. Dimly, she found herself wondering whether he used to work as a teacher, “Now, rule number two. The machine is set to a specific rhythm and intensity which will vary to ensure the effectiveness of the lesson. It is not a **** device, but it is designed to hurt. Just remember that the punishment is not meant to break you or harm you, but rather to correct your future behavior.”

He paused for another moment to see if she had any more questions, but nothing came up. Salwa listened as he continued.

“Third and lastly, you’ll have to comply with our instructions all through the process,” he said, “We don’t tolerate insubordination here, and if we find out that you’re trying to be difficult or circumvent your appointment then additional penalties might be imposed. This can potentially include a return to the original J40 punishment as ordered by the court.”

The fear that had started as a small seed inside of her was now a fully grown tree. Salwa bit down on her lips as she felt the roots dig deep into her gut. This wasn’t just a dream anymore, she thought. She was finally going through this for real.

“I understand,” she mumbled.

“Are you sure?” said Officer Hughes, “I can go over them again if you feel like I haven’t been clear enough.”

“No, I-…,” she said. It took some effort to keep herself present, “I just want to get this over with so I can go back to school. The court already let me change it so that I can still keep my hymen, and even though I know that it’s not that big of a deal anymore, my parents would probably punish me even harder if they ever found out and…”

She trailed off, another blush rising up across her face, and already she felt herself wishing that none of this had ever happened. They hadn’t even started yet and she was already falling apart. Like this, what was she even supposed to do they finally moved on to the main procedure? Cry and beg for them to stop? From what she just heard they would only start the entire thing all over again if they thought she wasn’t being serious, and against the thought of having to stay there for twice as long it was as if her body had given up on all forms of hope.

Another cold sliver rose up across her chest as she swallowed it down. Somehow, she managed not to press her legs together any more than she already was.

“I want to keep the hijab,” she mumbled.

Out of all the things she could say, part of her wondered why she was bringing this up now. She could almost see the officer laughing at her inside her head. Who did she think she was, assuming she was special? And even if he did grant the request, how much did it really matter anyways if she still had to take off the rest of her clothes?

To her surprise though, the officer simply nodded as he looked over at her again.

“Sure, no problem,” he said, “Your report did mention that as an exception, and as long as it doesn’t get in the way of the punishment then I don’t see why you can’t keep it on your head. I’m afraid I can’t afford to let you do the same with your other parts down there though.”

He gestured with his hand, and Salwa felt her face turning crimson. At the same time, however, there was a welcoming sense of relief. Being able to keep her hair covered was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Looks like she would be allowed at least a minuscule amount of her dignity, even as the rest of her body was stripped bare.

The officer waved her forward, and taking in a deep breath she slowly walked over to stand in front of the machine. Looks like the introductions were over. Now it was finally time for them to begin.