Chapter 1

“I’ve lived through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.”
― Mark Twain

“You can make anything by writing.”
― C.S. Lewis

‘The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.” - John Milton

“I teach you the overman. Man is something that shall be overcome. What have you done to overcome him? ... All beings so far have created something beyond themselves; and do you want to be the ebb of this great flood, and even go back to the beasts rather than overcome man?” - Friedrich Nietzsche

Some time in the not-too-distant future...

“Welcome to Hell,” I told the new inmates as they entered the prison, MY prison, of course.

While not technically Hell, which probably didn’t exist, the facility that I ran could at times be pretty damn close. The first phase, of course, was to segregate the male and female convicts, if only for a short time. They would bunk and shower together, among other things. The only caveat was that it was a deliberate tease on the State’s part. We didn’t want any crooks breeding together, did we?

“Alright now, let me be clear ... you’re going to be given injections. Don’t resist them. They are not poisons intended to kill you, of course. They have very specific and necessary uses. You do not want to go without them, trust me, as unpleasant as your fear of needles might be. It will be a lot worse for you if you don’t submit to the jab, are we clear?” I insisted that the prisoners all meekly submit to the cocktail of shots that I had laid out according to the Protocols.

Oh, yes, those. The Protocols ... and the Directives, and other legislative and policy clauses and codicils, stipulated some very real limitations on the personal freedom and autonomy of this criminal scum. This was part of a general re-working and restructuring of society with a strong emphasis on a proper balance and harmony in all things. The new regime had no time for any kind of nonsense that might get in the way of the greater good, after all. They had been too patient already, with far too little effect.

“Alright, then ... Inmates Sandford, Lennox, Marchais, Peters, Jensen, Wilcox, Armour, Gilbert, Cortland, Zeitung, and Drogheda, step this way for your jabs and the next phase of your processing. Inmates Corbin, Duval, Milford, Peters, Lomax, Diamond, Nambly, is that your real name ... seriously? Anyway, Guttmacher, Chillingsworth, Ramirez, Shamrock, and Valero, this way.

“You’re part of a pilot program wherein groups of twenty-two inmates of equal numbers of both sexes are all processed at the same time, ideally, no more, no less. Processing and transfer are delayed, for now at least, until the requisite is reached, but once done, well, you’ll see. I am Deputy Warden Jim Jackson, second only to Warden Anthony Fazio. This is Deputy Warden Sedona Pierce, but don’t let her diminutive size and stature fool any of you. She can and will break you in half, just like us,” I smirked as I watched the “jab” making the inmates drowsy so that they could black out.

When they awoke, of course, there were some real surprises. The women were branded like cattle, Hellmark Island Prison and their date of arrival now stamped right above their asses, naturally. They tended to react negatively to that shocker, but it was hardly the last. They would find out soon enough, at the same time as the others, after they awoke. They were next placed into female chastity devices intended to keep their pussies off-limits while still granting the proper authorities access to their butts. The keys would only be attached to certain members of the staff and only on a basis of whatever we in charge considered to be “necessity.” This was mostly for showers, at least in theory, which surprisingly happened daily for reasons that I wasn’t ready to discuss with outsiders.

The worst fate awaited the male inmates in some ways. They would never be placed in chastity, of course, but they might at times envy the ladies in that scenario. The men would first awaken in considerable pain, as tended to be caused by serious surgery, of course. In this case, it would be orchiectomies, mind you. None of the men were to be left intact. They got to keep their dicks, of course, but the balls and their sack were to be removed. This was one definite way to keep them from breeding, after all.

Yes, they would all become eunuchs, as they should be. Their criminal genetic leanings would thus be eradicated from the genepool, wouldn’t they? Their violent, aggressive urges could thus be curbed as well, especially when the next nasty shock came. They were given hormonal treatments to replace the missing testosterone ... with estrogen, what else? A little bit at a time, they would be fully emasculated per the regime’s true intentions. Day by day, they would be marched closer to the grave without a chance to pass on their genes at all or even to enjoy normal sexual congress with women (or with men, for that matter).

Then again, that was part of the point. We didn’t want to take the risk that any straggler sperm might do the trick, of course. Therefore, that was another reason to keep the ladies chaste until or unless we needed them. Well, chaste only in the vaginal sense, and only when we didn’t have uses for that orifice, too. It would not be our policy, however, to deny all sexual pleasure between the inmates, as in the past. We didn’t want any babies resulting from the activity in question, nor any kind of traditional penetration, but that aside, most forms of erotic delights would actually be favored by the administration.

The diet on the prison menu was heavy on soy, as a matter of fact, and we guards were deliberately kept away from that meal plan. We needed our muscles and other sources of strength, especially if male guards and officers of the facility. Every effort was made to keep the prison population as feminine as possible, of course, regardless of their original genders. For one thing, that tended to curtail the risk of prison violence, such as riots and standoffs. We didn’t want any of that rubbish. We wanted to neutralize such threats and keep the inmates as docile as we could.

As the inmates finally came to and discovered the bad news, there was more than a little outrage for now, but they were in for another surprise. They would be gagged at various points, including this early stage, up to and including actual ball gags in their mouths, both sexes. Their heads were also shaved, male and female alike, at least for now, as well as depilatory creams applied to their skin, which would have to be washed away in the showers. The communal, unisex showers, of course, with guards of both sexes watching their every move. We had our own showers, also communal and unisex, more enjoyable, mind you, at our quarters.

Oh, yes, I forgot to mention the fact that this penal colony was so constructed that all of the staff and guards lived on the island with the inmates and lived in co-ed type dormitories or barracks together. Most beds were very close together, remarkably little to no privacy, with only the head honchos like me and some others getting those perks. We had our own swimming pool as a clever way to encourage us to stay in shape, and we got a lot of meat in our diet, especially the menfolk. There were subtle variations for the female staff, naturally, but not too many, since they still needed to be physically stronger than most of the female population at-large.

Oh, and there was one other particular shock awaiting the inmates. Hellmark wasn’t just a penal or prison colony. It was also a nudist colony! Yes, every last one of the inmates was kept nude 24/7, aside from any special kind of devices or outfits or whatever that was assigned for any particular reason. That had a distinct tendency, of course, to really cut down on the expenses and limit their sense of freedom or any lingering notions of being equals, since we officers and guards kept on our own uniforms or suits or whatever our ranks dictated.

Unlike the ladies, the men were simply barcoded instead of branded, but that remained a rather effective way to limit their future options, too. If they ever got out, they would have to explain a few things, to put it mildly. The folks in the Directorate had really figured this stuff out, hadn’t they? Control the diet, control speech, control clothing, control sexuality, etc. Treat the inmates like lab rats or human pets in essence. The criminal element, the scum and dregs of the human race, would soon discover the high price of their continued careers of evil. Any offense serious enough to land you in Hellmark would leave a very real and permanent impact on your life, one way or the other.

“Alright, so, let me see ... let’s finish the process. Sandford, William G. Aged sixty-five. Born in Columbia, South Carolina. Convicted of attempted murder as well as arson and insurance fraud. Sentenced to life imprisonment. Twice divorced. Three children, all of them of age. Six unlucky grandchildren. Well, let’s hope that they don’t join you in prison, right? That would finish off your bloodline, after all, unless we suddenly had some kind of use for their genes. Well, enjoy your retirement, even if it wasn’t what you expected after a lifetime of crime. Now, bend over and cough. There we go,” I gestured for the nurse to administer the estrogen shot, of course, while he listened to me.

“Next!” the nurse called out, smiling at me as she practically blew me a kiss.

“Ah, yes, hmm ... Lennox, David R. Aged sixty-two. Born in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Convicted of pederasty. Sentenced to death by electrocution. Well, that won’t be a problem here, will it? Thrice married, four children, nine grandchildren. Thank God that you’re not gonna get to raise any of them. You must have been one charming pervert to get away with it as long as you did. Still, all the same, those days are over. I’ve literally got your balls, buddy. There won’t be any messing around or escaping on my watch. Bend over and cough, sicko,” I viewed Lennox with particular disgust, of course, and was quite amused at how harshly the nurse stuck the needle in his rump.

“Next!” the nurse announced with a certain unmistakable enthusiasm by now.

“Marchais, Eugene A. Aged sixty. Born in Nice, France. Convicted of terrorism, money laundering, armed robbery, home invasion, murder, and assault. Sentenced to death by guillotine. Divorced four times. Eight children. Twelve grandchildren. No more than that, though. We’ve purged that branch of the family tree. Terrorist scum, huh? It says here that you’re some kind of far-left, Communist type. Yes, well, you’ll find your equality of outcome here ... and every last one of you is miserable under its auspices. Bend over and cough, comrade,” I told the Frenchman unlucky to have landed at Hellmark now.

The nurse rather callously jabbed him and then licked her lips as she stared at me. What was that about, anyway? She lobbied pretty damn hard for attention, didn’t she? What was her name again? I’d have to look that up, sooner rather than later, if possible. She certainly filled out those scrubs of hers rather well and her freckles as well as obviously natural red hair matched quite perfectly with her very fair skin and her green-gray eyes. I didn’t see a wedding band or engagement ring, though that was no guarantee, especially these modern, enlightened times.

“Peters, Dwayne D. Aged fifty-five. Born in Chicago, Illinois. Convicted of armed robbery, burglary, possession of controlled substances, marketing controlled substances, and resisting arrest. Sentenced to twenty years in prison. Only recently divorced, presumably due to finally being caught. The ladies, they’ll put up with crooks, but they won’t put up with convicts, you know. They want a more successful kind of punk, capice? Three children, five grandchildren. Boy, how did you fit that into your busy schedule of dealing ... crack and fentanyl, is that right? You must have used some of your own product to stay awake, right? Alright, buddy, bend over and cough,” I let the nurse, Nurse Siobhan O’Hare (of course, why wouldn’t she be Irish?) do her work.

“Next?” Siobhan kept calling up the malefactors (clever pun that, right?), and gradually, they all got their first dose of estrogen to help control them.

Each of the cases was more pathetic than the others, and sadly, too many of them already had brats. Well, the damage would be limited from this point, right? That was all that we could do so far. The long-term plan was for all of the criminal guys, at least, to be flushed out of the genepool, which should be half of the equation. That alone would cut the numbers of felons down to a much more manageable number.

As for the ladies, well, their own fates wouldn’t necessarily be as privileged as they might believe. The rap sheets of these women in particular gave a stronger argument for a global patriarchy of sorts than anything that I had seen until this job, which was saying a lot. The nature of their crimes, especially the crimes of passion, showed that there would need to be a lot more “re-education,” especially of the female half of the populace. As essentially a mid-level public servant, I was sufficiently invested in the new regime and the new way of life to see the many benefits of correcting the errors of various flawed ideologies, notably feminism.