{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"8cc98024-0a3a-434a-998b-05723e085918","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2025-09-30T13:21:14.781Z","title":"The Evaluation","slug":"the-evaluation","shortId":"jk3srdaH","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":"The following story is a work of fiction that fetishises dark themes of misogyny, sexual abuse and helplessnes which may be triggering for some. It is no way an endorsement of these evil things. Please note the tags and the kinks that are explored first. ","type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"Alex is a young women imprisoned in a dystopian facility. As she lines up with the other girls, she anxiously awaits her next evaluation. This test will determine if her mind and body are ready for her to rejoin society. Will she pass, or will she be forced to endure several more months of intense psychological reprogramming?","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"35be7cee-2cc4-4888-9af4-0d6c9ed2ab46","title":null,"summary":"The lines shuffle forward. My nerves rise as the crowd ahead gets smaller. Girls going through one b","wordCount":3099,"readTime":16,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

The lines shuffle forward. My nerves rise as the crowd ahead gets smaller. Girls going through one by one. They go into the chambers, and then out the other side beyond our view. They pass or they fail. Free to return to the world outside, whatever is left of it. Or back down if they are not. Back to the cells. Back to continue until we are better. Until we are fixed.

Everyone is silent, I look at the naked shoulders in front of me, goosebumps rising on cold, paled skin. Arms hugged inwards, bare feet pitter-pattering up the line. Not many in front of me now. I hope I’m ready. I am ready. I will pass this time. I just know I’m fixed.

Another group go in and the barrier slams shut in front of me. My turn will be next. There are three evaluation chambers standing next to each other, three lines of girls waiting for their judgement. I turn my head, giving a reassuring smile to the girl next to me as I watch the vacant expression on her face snap out of it as she registers my gaze. She’s tall, with deep brown eyes, and flawless caramel skin over her toned, athletic body. I admire her for a moment as we wait, a deep heaviness hurting my heart as I realise that even someone as beautiful as her can be made to look so small and weak in a place like this.

“It will be alright, you’ll pass!” I whisper gently, careful to avoid attention from the guards, all clad in black, skirting our orderly lines. If we were not so closely watched, I’d have extended my arm to squeeze her hand. She gives the slightest shake of her head in response, and a tear she’s obviously been fighting back for a while finally breaks down her cheek.

My hopeful smile fades and I turn back to face the metal door. She knows. Like we all do. Nobody can fool the evaluation.

A quick eternity passes, and the shutters open up again. No girls inside, they've already moved forwards. An industrial sound commands us to step inside. Each of us walk into our alloted tombs. Alone, with only a red eyed monster hoisted on the wall for company, it's wide lens staring into our souls. I stand upright, mustering my confidence and offering a dull smile into the camera ahead, having to hide the urge to flinch as the metal slams shut behind me.

Locked inside the metal coffin, the red light of the eye illuminates my bare chest. It's about to begin.

“102049. Get down on the markers. Your evaluation begins shortly.”

The imperious voice echoes around me, calling me by my number instead of my name. the floor highlights spots for my hands and knees to go, I get down like a dog with my legs spread and my body vulnerable to whatever comes next. The mechanical whirring starts, loud and terrifying, and various robotic arms creep out from the walls of the chamber, reaching towards me.

First my wrists and ankles are grabbed, locked into vice like cuffs, their fingers equipped with sensors that press into my skin, searching for any secrets I might keep in my heartbeat, my breath, the twitching of my muscles and the sweat from my pores. I remain still, letting the arms take me prisoner.

Two more emerge from either side of me, resting at my breasts. There's no roughness in these ones, they hold gentle toys that vibrate and tickle my nipples. Its third comes behind me, finding the sweet spot between my legs, ready to stimulate my clitoris, I blush as the machine starts to gently test its pleasures on my body, and my face crinkles up tightly as the final arm lines up behind me.

A lubricated plug pushes, forcing my body forwards, but my restraints keep me in place. The arm moves to drive the plug through the widest part, and I wince, my tight sphincter closing around it, gobbling up the thick toy as I feel it fill me up. My body belongs to the chamber now. My limbs locked, my thoughts easily read by the devices attached to my skin, and my most sensitive areas vulnerable to the pleasure toys quietly humming as they prepare for my evaluation.

The red eye in front of me shifts upwards, revealing a bright screen that springs to life with juvenile animations.

“Hi there! 102049 is it?”

Instead of the imperious voice, it's a cutesy teen girl on the screen, her cartoon smile and blushing cheeks greeting me with overly enthusiastic friendliness. I don’t respond other than to nod my head as best as I can.

“Uergh! Yuck that won’t do at all! Why don’t I call you by your name instead? Let me find your file, hold on cutie pie! Just matching up your profile with these sensors. Those are the blinking light thingies attached to your wrists! Aren't they cool!

The girl ponders for a moment, the screen glitches with static as the computer loads up whatever it is looking for.

“Ah! I've got you! You’re Alex, right?”

My name. Not used in a long time. The last evaluation wasn’t like this at all. They always change it. The use of my name is enough to send my bodily signals wild. I can see the dials and monitors behind the screen twitch and spike. My nerves throwing off the evaluation’s recording already.

“Whoa whoa hold your horses, cowgirl!” the cartoon girl giggles “It’s alright, Alex! Calm down, just let the dials settle a little bit. There you go. Allow me to introduce myself! I'll be your evaluator today! You can call me Val! And hopefully I can call you Alex, is that alright with you?”

My eyes flick across the screen, trying to anticipate what this new evaluation is all about.

“Yeah… yes.” I clear my throat to answer, shifting my weight on my hands and knees, the toys start rising slowly, at first just making lazy circles around my nipples and clit, the plug inside me throbs, but I can’t tell if it's because it moves or if I’m just clenching around it.

“Okay Alex, this’ll be a cinch! All we’re gonna do is look at a few words and pictures okay? You think you can do that for me, hot stuff?”

“O-okay.”

“Awesome! Of course you can! Now, here’s the tricky part. When I flash up a new prompt, you’ve gotta say either ‘Love’ or ‘Hate’, okay? Just look at the picture or the word, and tell me as quick as you can if you love it or if you hate it! You pickin’ up what I’m putting down?”

“I-I understand, Val. Thank you, Val.” I keep my voice even, it’s important to be friendly, grateful and respectful. They’ve thrown me by using a giggly teenage girl instead of a man’s voice this time. But I can only assume it's safer that way. It is my evaluation after all.

“Okey dokey! Let’s go!” the giggling cartoon floats off screen, and a timer begins counting down. The toys on my body increase their pace, and the one between my legs begins vibrating pleasurable bursts over my clit. I feel my skin start to warm, the sensation of pleasure so uncomfortable as it fights against the pit of fear bubbling in my stomach.

It is easy. And I know exactly what to do. I take a deep breath and ready myself as the exercise starts, pictures and words showing in quick succession.

A man stands with his boot on the neck of a crying girl. “Love.”

A woman shouts with an angry, red face, her fist rising in resolve as she stands on a podium. “Hate.”

Submission. “Love.”

Control. “Hate.”

Men. “Love.”

Women. “Hate.”

All I can do is hope the devices on my wrists believe me too. I don't have enough time to glance back at the sensor readings to try to work out if my heartrate and the other charts confirm my answers, the pictures move too quickly.

The exercise continues and my nerves slowly settle. It starts to become familiar, even boring. It’s all too expected. I’ve been drilled on this a thousand times, I’ve gone through the same exercises again and again. The tedious, relentless indoctrinations of male superiority and the evils of women. The rise of male power and prosperity it brings. The toxic poison of feminist thought and the destruction of society it has inflicted for centuries.

“Hmmm.” the exercise stops, Val returning to my screen, lost in thought. “I’m not feelin’ this, am I right or am I right?”

My signals suddenly flare behind the screen, anxiety crashing like waves inside my chest.

“I know!” the cartoon raises her finger in a lightbulb moment of spontaneity. “Let’s try something! Bear with me, sweet cheeks.”

The machine whirs up again, arms moving behind me. I try to crank my neck to see what’s going on, but the red light flashes and the imperious voice returns with a sharp rebuke.

“Eyes forward!” it booms.

“Okie dokie.” Val looks at me with a happy grin “From now on, we’ll use those cool sensors to rate your answers! When you answer, the clever little thingamies will work out if they think you are telling the truth, or if you’re telling a naughty naughty lie!”

I flex my fingers against the floor, shifting my weight again. Watching closely as Val explains the new dynamic. It throws me off, I assumed the sensors would already be acting as a lie detector anyway. I don’t understand what the catch is.

“… if the sensors agree you are telling the truth. We’ll give you a juicy boost to those fun little toys on your nips and clit, okay Alex! I bet you like the sound of that, don’t you? Of course you do!” the toys flare up in response, and the vibrator hums directly over my clit. I bite my lip as I lean into it.

“Buuuuuuut! If the sensors think you’re telling wicked fibs…..”

Thwack!

A machine behind me clicks, a ripping sound cuts through the air, and rod of cold fire hits me from behind. It’s dull at first, then it burns. And burns. It’s unlike any spanking I’ve ever received. Razor sharp, a whip that must be made of metal wire or worse, not that I can see it. Hitting me harder and faster than any human hand could. I shriek in agony, my scream echoing in the cold metal tomb, ringing in my ears.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I pant, pulling my hands at the metal restraints, my signals blaring behind the screen, hitting their limits, the dials wobbling as they push against the extremes. My body can’t stop fidgeting, the pain never seems to end, it just throbs and throbs over and over again.

“Hey, hey, come back to me beautiful!” Val tries to soothe me through the screen, her cartoon form a blurry mesh of block colour as I struggle to see through wet eyes.

“Begin!” she chirps and rushes off camera, replaced by the images as the exercise starts again. My body shakes, my voice with it.

Submission. “L-love!”

I wait, shutting my eyes tight, my whole body clenching, the numb muscles of my asshole involuntarily gripping harder around the plug. I know it’s coming, I start to wonder if the pain is so bad that my mind has blocked out the noise of the robotic flogger behind me.

“Uuggh….” toys move on my body, my nipples delicately caressed by soft, gentle fingers. My vibrator buzzes, hitting me in the perfect spot. The plug inside of me moves, but not harshly, it’s delicate, gentle even, pressing down to provide more friction with the toy as it rubs my g-spot in the most heavenly way possible. Oh God it feels so good.

“Now we’re talking huh?” Val appears on screen again, pleased at the sight of my pleasure. I nod dumbly, my eyes still hot and hazy, able to see her more clearly. “You’re doing so good, doll. I love watching you like this. I think you’re gonna do great!” she reassures me, and I blush again, moving in time with my toys, letting the pleasure grow and grow.

The exercise continues. Just like it did before. The same words. The same images. I watch as men trample over the bodies of women. I watch as girls are lead around like dogs, pulled in chain collars. I watch girls crying as their bodies are violated over and over, swarms of laughing male faces surrounding them. I watch them suffer. I watch their bodies submit to male power. I watch them submit like they should.

“Love! Love! Love!”

I’m dizzy by the time the next words cross over the screen. The toys play with me in symphony. Like they know my own body better than I ever could. They always ease up in the right places when I get too close to spilling over, and then speed up when I start to drift away from the edge. Even the buttplug feels good inside of me, lazily pulling out to make me stretch and gently plunging back in at the perfect moment to stimulate my sweetest spot as the vibrator hits my clit. I swell with pleasure, with joy, with hope. I'm going to pass the evaluation!

A new image appears on the screen. Unlike the others. It crushes my rhythm, the toys pulling back, as if they can feel it, not completely leaving my body, but just enough to sharpen my focus. I watch the screen so carefully, eyes scanning every part of the girl in the picture.

Her hair, her face, her eyes bluey grey. A cheeky smile carving dimples into freckled cheeks. It's me. An old photo. I can’t remember who took it. It's from... before… how old am I there? Fourteen, fifteen? That top she's wearing. I love that top, I used to wear it all of the time.

“Love or hate, Alex?”

The cartoon doesn't appears on the screen, she speaks ominously behind the image of my younger self. I don’t know the answer.

“Alex baby. Focus. You’re doing so well, don’t blow it now! Look at the girl on the screen. Really look at her. Love? Or hate?”

I pause, missing the pleasant feeling of the toys rubbing all over me. I try to fidget to get closer to them, but the robotic arms move away to make sure I’m just out of their reach.

“… H-hate.”

I close my eyes, sighing out the word in response. Letting all of it go. Letting her go. It was hard to say it aloud, but it will be worth it. I want to feel that gorgeous pleasure again. It’s worth it to pass my evaluation. It’s worth it to be free.

Thwack!

The whipping rod doesn’t just strike again, it hits me in the exact same spot. If it were not for the restraints, my body would collapse entirely with the overwhelming pain. I lose all control of myself. Screaming as I rip at the restraints at my arms, desperate to free myself from more pain. It’s like the whip is slicing me open.

I don’t hear it again. My ears full of blood, throbbing, pumping, my teeth biting and clenching, pushing at my gums.

And then the screen starts showing more.

The images come faster and faster. My first day at school, my family holidays, pimpled teen faces, messing around with old cameras, friends, laughter, pouting shots next to my first boyfriend, holding my university diploma, moving out of my dorms, playing with my dogs, hanging out in cool bars, nice restaurants, more, more of my old life flashing across my eyes faster than I can keep track.

Twack! Thwack! Thwack!

“Hate! Hate! Hate! Please!!! Love? Hate? Love?! Hate?! Please! Please stop! Hate!!! Please! No!!! Love, hate, hate!!!” my voice cracks in my throat, I want to stop screaming but I can’t.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The flogger ticks and pulls back. Again and again. At some point a second flogger machine joins in to keep up with the images. One arm to whip each cheek. Pulling back and lashing forwards in terrifying precision. My ass grips the plug so tightly I might crush it. My skin feels slick with blood. The pain is unending. I beg my body to break, to give up, pass out, I beg Val to fail me, to make it be over. I beg for anything and everything that will make it stop.

Whatever I said, however I tried to respond, all would result in the same violent ticks of the machine. The robotic arms don’t tire, they don’t deviate from where they hit me, or how hard they strike. They only continue with total indifference as they transform me, whipping the soft plump skin of my backside to shreds. The vibrator that once danced over my clit now limp as the toy-arms idle down.

Darkness fills the room. The screen flicked off. The red light points down at me as the robotic arms release, each one slithering back within the chamber’s walls. Everything leaves me. I slump on the floor, even the slightest movement of my thighs irritates the skin of my raw behind. When it's finished, the imperious voice delivers its verdict.

“102049, your evaluation is complete. You have failed. You are not fixed. You will be evaluated again in thirty days. You will use the door to your left when you leave this chamber.”

The heavy metal in front of me lifts up, flooding the chamber with light again. Slowly I manage to pick myself up, wincing with each step as my broken body limps forward. The only clue I have as to the state of my backside is offered when I see the other two girls leave their own chambers. I raise my hand to my mouth, catching my breath as I see the state of them. Their beautiful bodies mutilated, a violent criss cross of perfectly placed lines, deep red across their bottoms. I want to weep all over again, but I don’t have any tears left.

Together we hobble towards the left door in exhausted silence, one girl ahead of me, another behind, the first exits and I hold the door open, looking back at the other. The beautiful girl, her perfect caramel skin now painted with the red of punishment. She lifts her head, dark hair falling to cover part of her face. A defeated shame crosses her eyes as she gives me one final look, and turns away. I watch, unable to look away, mouth agape as I see her hand reach for the handle of the door on the right hand side.

Her bottom is just as bruised as mine, but her insides are fixed. She passed. She passed. My face curls, sour and angry as she disappears out the door. Hate.

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