Chapter 3: The Impaling of Cheryl

The general had invited a huge crowd to attend the "Information Celebration." One did not refuse the invitation. An example was to be made of someone and failure to attend the "celebration" might make you the next guest of honor. The general's permission for Dr. Arkan to indulge his tastes in "improved" medieval methods was enough to discourage truancy. Every officer and enlisted man, not performing "essential duties" was seated before the speakers platform. The auditorium, with capacity for ten thousand, was too large for everyone to have a good view. Provision had been made for this, too: the back wall of the auditorium was provided with a huge screen similar to the technology in American sports stadiums. Together with a wide array of remotely operated cameras, this provided a close up of activity on the dais, visible from any point in the room.

The women were the last to join the assemblage. They were of course completely covered in the chador and even their faces were veiled. Charlotte had dragooned Lucinda to help Su Li dress while she explained to the newcomers how it must be worn. The unfamiliar wraps had almost provoked a mass protest, until Charlotte assured them they could either wear it or go to the auditorium naked. "An' iffen y'all try thet... the general's men will kill you as sure as Ah'm standin' here. Now y'all can either do as Ah say or y'all can die, but make up your minds this here minute!" Her adamancy and assurances of her sincerity from Lucinda settled the question. Before they left their dormitory Charlotte further warned them that showing even a square inch of skin could be a death sentence. It was a quiet and careful group that followed their guards through the hallways to the auditorium.

Standing room was provided at the back of the seated assemblage, on a raised platform behind a heavy wired screening. The door was locked behind them, a not too subtle message implying they were there to "enjoy" the whole show.

The general made his appearance to the sounds of enthusiastic cheers from the soldiers. His speech was short and perfunctory. Nevertheless it was wildly applauded. He was followed by several under officers describing the readiness of their troops, the strength of their fighting spirit and the fine quality of their equipment in glowing terms and, of course, giving credit to the general for all of this. They were given only slightly less enthusiastic applause.

Finally Dr. Arkan took the podium. Upon his appearance at the speakers podium, a complete quiet overtook the room. Handlers carefully wheeled a large, heavily veiled object into it's prepared place on the stage next to the speaker's podium. With a quiet voice, the doctor began to remind the men of the hatred they must hold for America and all Americans. How they and their families had suffered from unprovoked bombings and the missile strikes of the cowardly American military. Stirred by the passion in his presentation the crowd began to seethe with anger. A master of manipulation he was able to able to raise this anger to greater and greater heights. When he judged the crowd to be at a fever pitch, the veil over the object was whisked away and a barely conscious Cheryl Johnson was displayed.

She was almost naked, clad only in what was left of her underwear. Her arms were pulled upward and at maximum spread by chains attached above her head to poles on either side of her. Her legs were kept spread apart by chains attached to the bottom of these same poles. Only by supporting herself on her toes could she remove the pull of her body's weight on her arms.

The doctor quickly identified her as an American and an infidel. The Announcement that she would be made to pay for the pain of their people and their losses was greeted with a cry for vengeance, ten thousand strong.

The advantage of cameras allowed me to observe how she had been abused. Her body was covered with bruises. Blood trails provided clues where several fingernails, toenails and teeth had been removed by less than gentle methods. Drying blood between her thighs implied that someone had brutally enjoyed themselves there as well. She was now reduced to a mass of pain. Her body hung limply from her chained wrists. When she had enough strength, whimpers and pleadings for mercy could be heard. Dr. Arkan stepped behind her, with a remote control box in his hand. Those of us who had seen Dr. Arkan's favorite toy now knew what would happen next. Cheryl, of course, had no clue.

The Doctor pressed a button on his remote control and a slender, shiny metal shaft began to rise from between Cheryl's widely spread legs. It continued to rise until it was just below her torso. With skill from much practice, Dr. Arkan quickly maneuvered her body to center her anus over the rising shaft. Slight movements to position her unresisting body, together with skillful manipulation of the controls, soon had her deeply impaled upon the shaft. Within her rectum, the top of shaft opened to protrude a needle sharp point. Satisfied with his initial position work, Dr. Arkan now stepped out from behind Cheryl to stand behind the speakers podium.

With a dramatic flourish, the doctor sent the now needle tipped shaft driving upward into Cheryl's intestines. Her body came erect as she vainly tried to pull herself off of that spike of unimaginable pain. Her shrieks filled the auditorium, even though she clearly had no microphone. Every inch of "comfort" she managed to find for herself, by standing on tiptoe or pulling weakly on the chains from which her arms were suspended, was immediately lost by a quick movement of the doctor's fingers on his control box. The weight of her body was quickly too much for her muscles, in her weakened condition. As each muscle group gave out, she was driven further and further onto the impaling spike and we were treated to a new series of harsh shrieks.