The Punishment (Patreon)

[WP] "There must be some misunderstanding. This IS the punishment." "But I love it here." "Sir, we have a problem, the subject either doesn't understand words or is immune to our inhumane torture methods."

Blujaz retracted his eyestalks and used his major and minor sub-manipulators to rub at a developing stress-crease in his facial integument. "Please [if it will not kill you] repeat your description of the problem [insurmountable crisis] at hand."

His unnamed underling (one of the three currently being inflicted on him) winced back under the unrelenting fury of his subtle sarcasm. "It is the human," it bleated, keeping all undertones, overtones and infrasonics out of its trembling vocal utterance. "It is refusing to acknowledge the punishment."

Blujaz' left eyestalk popped out of hiding, followed by his right; a blatant sign of his irritated disbelief. "Correct me if I am mistaken [don't even think about it] but punishment is to be endured [screaming or otherwise] not given as a choice to be acknowledged [you gormless idiot]. This is not hyperspace study [though in your case it may as well be]."

"I have tried," whined the underling in a most unbecoming fashion. "But no matter how many extra punishments I layer on that [ugly bipedal] being, it refuses to beg for [sweet release or] mercy. In fact, it [infuriatingly] pretends to enjoy them."

"Slither with me," commanded Blujaz. "I shall examine this [irritating obstinate] human and formulate a plan of [undoubtedly infallible] action." He plopped off his comfortable rest and set forth into the depths of the multi-species prison of which he was the Supreme High Director. "Remind me; what crime has this [assuredly guilty as sin] being been convicted of?"

"It encountered a member of our Most High Corporate Overlord caste and used its [hugely strong manipulator] arm to strike him in the dorsal region, at the same time uttering the [unspeakably insulting] phrase 'sup, dude?'." The underling cringed back as it repeated the phrase; those two syllables had been known to get beings exiled from the system for life. "The force of the [aggressively assaulting] blow caused the official to regurgitate his last meal."

It all made sense now. Such an offense, separating a member of the Corporate Overlord caste from his food, was among the most heinous known to his kind. "Why was it not immediately executed?"

"On-site security attempted to do this," the underling admitted. "But their salt-sprayers [must have been faulty] proved ineffective. So the being was taken into custody and placed under punishment as mandated by the most authoritative [infallible] information we have."

"And you say it is not working?" They slithered into a capture-space where the guards determined by eyestalk count that they were not escaped prisoners in disguise, then were let through.

"No [despite the fact that it should be]!" The underling twisted its eyestalks in frustration. "As mandated, we are forcing it to spend part of its waking cycle semi-submerged in dihydrogen monoxide, and another part being exposed to ultraviolet radiation of an intensity that would surely cook you or I alive. For foodstuffs, it is being forced to subsist on more dihydrogen monoxide, as well as liquids containing caffeine and others containing ethanol. There is also a particularly unpleasant [and undoubtedly deadly] type of food called 'pizza' and another called 'burgers'. These have meat-based protein on them!"

Blujaz shuddered, a process which took some time to complete. His eyestalks curled in on themselves. That sounded like a truly horrific punishment. "And it is pretending [masquerading] enjoyment of this? It must surely possess an unusual [unnatural] threshold of pain." A thought struck him. "Have you attempted use of salt [true torture] in these punishments?"

"There is already salt involved!" wailed the underling. "There is salt dissolved in the dihydrogen monoxide! The ethanol sometimes comes with salt! The pizza and burgers already have salt on them!"

"Well, that seems to be [all-encompassing] comprehensive," mused Blujaz. He stretched his eyestalks to peer through the UV-shielded window at the human. Clad in a scrap of cloth about the bifurcation in its body, it seemed to be reclining on a rack designed to expose it to the soft yellow-white light from above, no doubt rich in UV radiation. Beneath the rack was a surface composed of silicoid grains sloping down to a large expanse of deadly salt-infused dihydrogen monoxide. How the human could bring itself to submerge itself in that stuff, he could not comprehend. Its survival in such a case was even more remarkable.

The human turned its head toward the window. While its eyes were covered by dark lenses, no doubt to conceal its suffering, it drew back its lips and exposed its sharp white predator teeth in a threat display. A glass vessel containing what was no doubt a highly deadly concentration of ethanol was raised in one manipulator, before the human forced itself to imbibe some.

Blujaz had seen enough. He retreated from the window. "What was that [unsettling aggressive] gesture?" he asked once they were at a safe distance from the door.

"I suspect it was intended to convey a threat to pour the ethanol over you then rend you with its teeth," suggested the underling, looking and sounding revolted.

"I [agree wholeheartedly] concur." Blujaz flexed his eyestalks in a determined fashion. "What is next on the punishment scale?"

"This human is a male of the species," noted the underling. "At this stage in its development, it wants nothing to do with females. We will pay females of its species to wear minimal covering and associate closely with it. Perhaps then we can break its will."

This made sense. Blujaz had been through such a stage himself. He was curious, however. "Where are you getting [receiving, attaining, gaining] this [revelation, awareness] knowledge from?"

"Oh," said the underling. "When I contacted the human ambassador, I asked it for how its species could be made to suffer. It supplied a very detailed list."

Blujaz considered this. The best way to torture a member of a species was to ask another member, after all. "Well done [even if it is hardly working as yet]," he replied. "Carry on." He set out back toward his office.

------

Richard Holt finished the last of his Mai Tai, took off his sunglasses, and got up from the folding recliner. Taking a few long strides, he dived into the water, which was pleasantly cool.

The ambassador had assured him they were working hard to spring him from this prison and get him back to Earth. As far as he was concerned, they could take their time.