Emma's Corner

by Carolyn Faulkner

  Barbara's hand shot out, slapping Emma with all her might across the face, and cutting her lip. "Don't you ever speak to me like that again, you little slut."

  Jack's eyes darkened. "Please don't touch her face. No, she isn't stupid. Just disobedient. To your corner, Emma."

  "No! Not in front of her! Jack! I'm begging you!" Emma protested, as he pushed her to the door.

  "TO YOUR CORNER!" he bellowed.

  Emma sobbed, stumbling past him as she ran to her room. She shook violently as she dropped her tights to below her bottom, removed the diaper, and then approached the dreaded corner chair. Unmelted portions of the suppositories pressed painfully within her as she lowered herself onto the anchor and strapped her thighs apart to await her punishment.

  "What is this lovely thing?" Barbara asked, crossing her arms.

  "It's her corner chair. It teaches her the value of quiet time," Jack growled, flipping the switch on high. Emma screamed as the anchor plowed into her, jamming the inserts high into her intestines. He ran it for a single minute, then shut it down.

  "Why did you turn it off?" Barbara demanded. "Her behavior warrants much more punishment."

  "I agree."

  "And you are going to just ignore it?"

  "No, I wasn't going to let her get away with it. I was just going to punish her when you left. You provoked her and she reacted to it."

  "I thought you were a better instructor than this," Barbara said mockingly. "I never thought I would see you go soft."

  "I am not soft," Jack snarled.

  "Prove it. Allow me to punish her. I owe her for so many years of destroying my life."

  Jack ignored the violent shaking of Emma's head. "Very well, have at it. Just no drawing blood, and keep away from her face."

  "No! Jack! Please! I'm begging you!" Emma cried, as he carefully lifted her off the anchor and carried her to where Barbara was waiting eagerly. He placed her across the woman's soft, broad lap.

  "Stay put, young lady. I am so unhappy with you right now. You know better than this," he ordered, attaching her hands and ankles to restraints located on the chair's rungs.

  "Now, Emma, I thought sending you here would improve this rebellious streak of yours. It seems that Professor Jack has been much too lax, and has neglected to properly train you as he had promised."

  "Now see, here, Barbara. I have been neither lenient nor neglectful," Jack sneered.

  "Her behavior proves otherwise, old friend. So does the state of her bottom. When was the last time you gave her a thorough spanking?"

  "She got one just this morning. She does not bruise any longer and—"

  "That's because you are too indulgent. Let me show you how it's done. I've been wanting to do this for a very long time…" Barbara's words drifted as she slammed a heavy implement across the crown of Emma's left cheek. She screamed in response.

  "Bad little girls who grow used to their punishments need something to grab their attention. This is made of rubber," she splatted the square end of the device against the other side. "See how her bottom instantly turns red? That will change in no time. Watch…"

  She spread Emma's weight evenly over her knees and shifted the center of gravity so that her tense, clenching backside was glaring straight up at the ceiling in mute accusation.

  "You can stop this whining this instant, young lady!" Barbara ordered impatiently. "You've earned yourself a good twenty minutes with your horrid behavior, and I am not going to give you one minute less. You are to stay still and hold your bottom up for every stroke. If you move so much as an inch off my lap, I promise to make things a hell of a lot worse than you have ever experienced."

  Barbara raised the rubber paddle over her right shoulder and gathered the strength for the next stunning blow. She wielded the implement viciously, leaving blotches of fire where it impacted. Unlike Jack, Barbara did not pace the strokes or allow them to sink in before bringing down another. Instead, she let loose with the fastest blows the implement permitted, and continued tirelessly as the clock ticked with disinterest.

  The restraints prevented Emma from either kicking or rising beyond an inch or two, nor was she able to slip off her aunt's lap without risking dislocating a shoulder or banging her skull against the hard floor. Between the pain and the sedatives, she began to hyperventilate, unable to catch her breath as her bottom was brutally mauled by the venomous woman. The square imprints that outlined the head of the paddle were laid down deliberately over growing bruises, raising excruciating ridges that would stay long after Aunt Barbara had left. And that was not including the 'whipping of her life' that Emma would receive from Jack once they were alone.

  "I think that's enough, Barb. You've raised blisters, and that's too close to breaking the skin."

  "You are worried about breaking the skin? You? When did you decide to go soft, Jack Robbins? It's only been five minutes. Don't tell me that this little slut has managed to charm you."

  "I am not soft, nor is she a slut. I just have other means of dealing with her. She knows what happens when I am displeased. I'll show you," Jack said, releasing the girl from the restraints and hauling her to her feet. "Strip," he ordered.

  Dizziness made her wobble on unsteady feet as she tried to obey. Growing impatient, Jack tore every strip of clothing from her body and held her up by the elbow.

  Barbara's hands covered her mouth. "Those tattoos are lovely! What do they mean?"

  "I drew the battle on her back. See the dragon eating the world? That's me. Nature settles around it, as you can see. All the other stuff is just for aesthetics."

  "Why didn't you tattoo her bottom?"

  "That's a place that I like to keep for other pleasures, including reddening. I'm going to put another on her after the sedative hits her. You can watch."

  "I want to try it!" Barbara said eagerly. "Let me draw on her face."

  "No! This is my canvas!" Jack suddenly shouted. "Her face is not to be touched, nor will I have you destroy my masterpiece because you are spiteful."

  "Very well," Barbara sighed. "Show me some other ways you discipline her."

  With a grin, he plopped Emma's body across his shoulder and brought her out to the mud room, where he quickly bound her to the trench and placed a gag in her mouth. Barbara clapped her hands with excitement as Emma's bottom and pussy were stretched open before her. She smacked the delicate region five times, excited by Emma's muffled squeals.

  "Please let me watch you fuck her in the ass while she's like this."

  "I don't know—"

  "You owe me, Jack! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have this plaything. I gave her to you at a discount. I could have gotten much more money selling her off to one of the private reform schools, you know. They might have closed Strictland, but many more exist. I did you a favor, and you will show some appreciation!"

  "Don't push me, Barbara."

  "Or what? You do know that if I don't return in two days, the coordinates to your little hideout will be made public. Remember, my darling, your enemies shoot first, ask questions later."

  "You can't blackmail me!" he hissed.

  "I believe I just did. Go on," she urged, "there's plenty of lube from those suppositories. Don't waste your time with adding more."

  Jack growled, unleashed his cock from his trousers and, without hesitation, plunged it into its target. Emma screamed, unprepared for the impalement. He buried his shaft in her and bent down to glare into her face.

  "This is your fault," he snarled, leaning into her as he plunged again. "If you had behaved yourself, we could have been having fun!"

  Emma sobbed, feeling her body tear as he continued with his forced entry. He pumped several times, forcing her head to repeatedly hit the hard concrete wall. Dizziness took over as her skull gave way to the hard wall, and she prayed that this would finally be her end.

  Suddenly he froze, still with his cock lodged deep within her.

  "Do you hear that?" he said, pulling out and quickly jamming his cock back
into his pants. "Helicopters! How the fuck did they find me? Is this your doing?" he demanded, wrapping his hand around Barbara's throat and lifting her slightly off the floor.

  "No!" she coughed, "I swear. I would never call anyone if I was here. You have a dead or alive bulletin out for you. I would never put myself in that kind of jeopardy!"

  Jack's face registered panic as a voice ordered him to surrender from outside the property lines, and he dropped Barbara to the ground.

  "What are you going to do?" Barbara asked in a panic-stricken voice, slowly rising to her feet.

  "I warned them! I told them that if anyone ever came after me, I would unleash the Mother. Every person who has used a touch screen since the war will be dead before morning."

  "No! I've used a touch screen! No!" Barbara screamed, grabbing his arm and trying to hold him back as he stomped out of the room. "Nooo!"

  Emma listened to the sound of the scuffling, her eyes starting to close as the drugs began to take over her conscious state. Minutes later, Jack returned, with a weeping Barbara on his heels.

  "Well, baby," he said, patting Emma's thigh. "You're gonna be one who goes with the rest of them. I'm sorry. I'm going to miss you."

  Emma struggled against the bonds, trying to loosen her gag.

  "I just sent out the call to the government. The Mother has been released into the air and will hatch within a few minutes. They should not have tried to follow me." He turned his head at the sound of a voice again demanding his surrender. "These will be the first ones, since they are closest to… to…"

  Emma watched as he fell back against the wall and slowly sank to the floor.

  "Jack? Jack! What's wrong?" Barbara screamed, shaking him.

  "I think I made a mistake," his voice was strained as his airway slowly started to close. "Ungag her."

  Barbara quickly obeyed, her head turning to the sound of footfalls as the soldiers broke into the house. "What's happening? Jack!"

  "Emma?" Jack spluttered, blood forming around his eyes. "Did you change the program?"

  "You really were a good teacher, Jack," Emma said hoarsely. "I hope you rot in hell."

  Her eyes closed, hearing the sound of gunshots and a thud against the wall. Voices… warm hands… something cool on her lips… then blackness.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Emma opened her eyes to the view of a white curtain fluttering in the breeze of an open window.

  "Hello," a man's voice said gently. "Don't be afraid. You're safe."

  "Where am I? What happened?"

  "Shh," his warm hand touched her arm. "Everything will be okay. My name is David and you are in my home. I was called to follow up on the team that rescued you."

  "Jack? Is he dead?"

  "Yes. He suffered for hours waiting for that thing to kill him. I guess he was one of those who, as he so eloquently stated to the press, 'deserved' it. Open your mouth. Don't worry. It's just ice chips."

  "Barbara? She was there. Please tell me you caught her. She did this…"

  "The woman who was at the house took a bullet between the eyes. They were ordered to kill on sight, no questions asked. The fact that you were tied up is what saved you. Can you sit up?" he asked with concern. "The doctors did what they could to mend the wounds, but it will take some time for you to heal."

  Emma groaned, wincing as she urged her aching body up on the soft bed. Her gaze fell to her tattooed arm, and she quickly hid it under the sheet.

  "Are they going to execute me?" she asked weakly.

  David gently touched her bruised cheek. "They are in a quandary. The signal you put out helped us capture this war criminal. They want information from you before they make any decisions."

  "He did this to me." Emma felt a tear roll down her face. "He sentenced me to death with these horrible marks."

  "Before you say anything, I need to tell you something," David said quietly, sitting down on the bed next to her. "I think they are beautiful."

  "You do? But they make me a criminal. He pierced me…"

  "The doctors removed the piercings for you, so you never have to worry about those. As for these tattoos—he was a crazed lunatic, but an incredible artist. They are amazing, and tell a story like I've never seen before."

  "They are my death sentence." Emma looked away from the man's soft, light brown eyes. "You should have let me just die like they did."

  "Listen, please. I really think I can be part of turning some things around for you, but I need your cooperation."

  "Turn things around? How? Who exactly are you?"

  "David Lancaster."

  "Chief of Staff David Lancaster?" Emma was stunned. This was one of the most powerful men in society.

  "At your service. Please, I really believe I can change some things, but I need you to trust me."

  "I don't have any other choice, do I?"

  "Not really." He smiled, showing straight, white teeth. His eyes were gentle as he gazed at her. "Here's my plan…"

  ***

  Emma, dressed in a warm, white robe, trembled as she stood by David's side two weeks later, overlooking a large conference room filled with hundreds of reporters and journalists. The story of her rescue had 'slipped' out, and the government was forced to acknowledge her role in the capture of the late Professor Robbins, along with the fact that she'd saved millions from the devastation of another C-Spill. Concerned that her knowledge of the workings behind Jack's lethal weaponry was not enough to keep her from being sentenced to death, David hatched a plan to make her the people's hero.

  "Ladies and Gentlemen of the press," he began, holding his arms in the air. "Thank you for joining us. You have all heard of our Emma, right? Let's give her a hand!"

  A round of applause circled the room, making Emma slip behind her protector.

  "Don't be afraid, sweetheart," David whispered, drawing her back next to him before addressing the room once more. "All of us have learned to survive in a world that has no color, flavor or joy. For many, the future is still bleak and lifeless. This woman has lived in the reality of our world, and survived to tell about it. Emma? Please share your story."

  Nervously, Emma began, staring at the ground the entire time. Whispers and muttering caught her ear, and she sidled closer to David for support. He squeezed her hand gently, urging her to continue. Skeptical faces turned horror-stricken as she described the torture, beatings and rape she had undergone, deliberately leaving out the mutilation of her body.

  David allowed some time for questions, including, "Why would you go somewhere like that? Didn't you think of what could happen?"

  "In my world," Emma lifted her face to the crowd, "survival means enduring whatever is necessary. I consented to the arrangement because I needed to survive. I never thought that my aunt would have set me up for what occurred, or the reasons behind it. With the lies she told about my sexual activity, I had nowhere else to go except jail. Let's face it; no-one cares about the truth—they want the excitement associated with the media. I saw those girls during the Strictland trials. I didn't want to end up being one of them."

  "Society has placed a label of damnation upon women like Emma. If there is one standing before us, then we know that there are thousands like her hiding in the shadows. We need reform, people! We need to make changes so that girls like Emma don't have to be sold into sexual slavery in order to survive. What if this were your daughter? Or your sister? Or your child? I say, let's make Emma Thompson a symbol of hope to our young women today. Starting with this…"

  At his signal, Emma dropped the robe. Gasps echoed against the walls as she stood naked before the audience. Slowly, she turned around, allowing a full view of the tattoos, her pussy feeling odd without the weight of the piercings. Cameras started to flash, and the noise and questioning grew to a dull roar.

  "I believe that there are things that were meant for evil, but can be used for good. Professor Robbins placed these marks on her body as a means to keep her captive. His biggest mistake was his pride,
for he made them as beautiful as possible," David said. He pointed out each tattoo, placing a significance upon it that kept the audience captivated. "Can you see how alive and vibrant these flowers are? When was the last time any of us held a live flower in our hands, or smelled its fragrance? The sky is bright and blue, something most of us haven't seen in decades, and even in the darkness, there are stars." He ran his hand gently over the section he spoke of. "Even the insects shine with life and color, and the falling leaves seem to be floating. These are all memories of how our world used to be, and a symbol of hope as to what it can become once more. But we need to make changes. All of us need to make the choice, and stop allowing ourselves to be driven by our own prejudice and fear."

  He took a breath as he gently covered Emma with the robe and then held her warmly to his side. "This brilliant young woman saved what was left of our world by turning that madman's weapon against him. She showed us the true heart of survival, one that went beyond the selfish need to escape. All of you heard the details of the DNA substitution, and know that her own blood was mingled with the sample. It was nothing short of a miracle that the weapon did not sequence her. Her only concern, however, was to wipe out all of the information that he had about us—yes, us! We owe this woman our very lives."

  Emma blushed as he bowed to her and kissed the back of her hand.

  "Almost done here, sweetheart. Are you okay?" David whispered with concern. She simply nodded, her hand tightening around his. His final statement was about the image on her back. "This dragon shows us how ignorance and fear can destroy a world. Let's take the steps necessary to change the bigotry and hatred we have cultivated in our society. Let's take a stand against isolating, punishing and annihilating those who we, in positions of power, deem as undesirable. In honor of what Miss Thompson has done to save us as a society, I ask that we return the favor and come together to save her from the laws based on intolerance and bias. I hereby publically propose that we lift the ban on all body modifications, and put forth our efforts to make our people feel as though they have value and purpose. I also propose that we find a way to incorporate a fostering unit for women who are alone and facing homelessness, and help them get back on their feet."