Runaway Girl

Unjust deserts

Eighteen-year-old Tamara Celine S5234 was standing in front of a large office desk and next to a big window that provided a beautiful panorama of the city of New Alpbach, the second most populous city of Satelliteland. On the other side a stern looking, middle-aged woman was sitting at a luxurious office chair. The young woman had never liked the other one, but at this moment she liked the elder woman even less. Their conversation was not going to be a nice little chat, both of them knew that very well. After what she felt to have been an eternity, the older woman finally spoke.

"Tamara," she firmly said, "you've been caught stealing food from the store reserved for the benefit of our residents. Do you deny you have taken food without permission?" "No," the young blonde said softly and a little subdued. "No, whom?" the other asked. "No, Miss Anderson. I don't the deny this charge, ma'am." "Well, do you have a decent explanation for your behaviour or, as I would say more accurately, misbehaviour?"

Though the eighteen-year-old woman did not like the tone the other used to address her, Tamara thought that it would be better just to answer this question right away.

"I was very hungry and I wanted to eat something else than algae paste and hemp seed bars, ma'am." "Algae and hemp seeds is all what you would ever need, girl," Anderson snapped, "your whole metabolism has been designed to function optimally on such a diet. So you have no valid excuse to take food exclusively reserved for human consumption. Therefore you will get the punishment you deserve, you naughty girl."

Ingrid Anderson, the chief manager of the St. Elise Rest-home, then quickly rose from her chair and made a few steps toward a steel cabinet located in corner to the right of and behind her desk, from where she collected a long and thick rattan cane. The younger woman estimated its length at a hundred and twenty centimeter and its width at ten millimeter. Miss Anderson turned around and walked back to her desk, while she told Tamara:

"Pull down your pants and bent over my desk, girl!" The eighteen-year-old hesitated for a couple of moments, but eventually she obeyed. "For your infraction," the manager said, "you will receive eighteen strokes on your bare butts." "Why eighteen?" Tamara asked. "You should address me properly, girl. Anyway, stealing food is a severe infraction and you should be taught a firm lesson. And since your age is eighteen, that will be a suitable number of strokes." "I only took one mandarin, ma'am!" "If you continue to protest the penalty you deserve, I will double the number of strokes you'll get!"

This threat was sufficient to make Tamara stop protesting and silently she awaited the harsh caning. Miss Anderson got standing behind her and she wasted no further time to administer the first stroke. Its force caused the young woman's body to move forward and shiver, while she screamed. The pain was intense and the young woman wondered if she would be able to withstand eighteen of such harsh strokes. Once the eighteen-year-old had restored her position, the manager delivered the second stroke. The whole procedure was repeated over and over again, while tears started to flow over her cheeks, until the young female thief's bare, white buttocks were marked by eighteen pairs of stinging, straight red lines.

"Girl," Ingrid Anderson said after she had finished the caning, "go standing to that corner. You'll contemplate your sins and meanwhile I do not want to hear you." "Yes, ma'am," Tamara replied reluctantly. While the older woman got back on her chair, the eighteen-year-old silently went to the designated corner. "Put your nose to the wall and put your hands on your head and don't move." "Yes, ma'am."

Though Tamara was supposed to reflect upon her actions while serving corner time, she could only think of the hatred she felt to the human woman, who had just blistered her buttocks. It took all her mental strength to resist the urge to touch her burning butts.

It is so unfair, the young woman thought. I have never asked to be a member of the staff of the St. Elise Rest-home. I'm only employed here, because I'm a HSO, a Genetic Modified Organism created by humans to be exploited as a slave. They have no right to tell me what to do or not, let alone to punish me for not obeying them. Being a slave has never been my own choice.

Despite her deep and intense anger, Tamara managed to keep these thoughts for herself and during the next thirty minutes the young woman was able not to speak a single word, not even an outcry from the agony came from her lips. She would not allow that human bitch to enjoy the pleasure of caning her once more. The eighteen-year-old was convinced that Ingrid Anderson was a true sadistic speciesist, who loved to inflict physical pain upon intelligent non-human beings. Why else would she hit me eighteen times for taking just one mandarin? Three strokes would be a reasonable penalty...

Only the hatred for her human overseer made Tamara almost forgot the burning agony in her behind. The blond woman silently vowed to get revenge for this unjust and disproportional chastisement. Sooner or later, she would make Ingrid Anderson pay for her human supremacist believes and she would suffer the full price of her arrogance. No, she thought, I won't kill her – that would be too merciful. That Bitch deserves to be humiliated, to be tortured but not to die. Let her live in slavery...