Extra Work Required -1
#4 of The Re-Education Facility (Mind Control/Hypno Themes)
All is not well in the Larkhall Re-Education Facility.
Extra Work Required -1
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Hello, folks! Here's a story in the "Re-Education Facility" universe, commissioned by Heru and dealing with this interesting place, and another aspect of its functions, heheh. Hope you'll have an interesting time reading, and I look forward to your feedback!
Tally-ho!
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Director Crocker was enjoying a leisurely cup of tea in his 'aerie' on top of the tower that oversaw the entire premises of the Larkhall Re-Education Facility, comfortably sipping away when the alarm blared off and rustled the dragon off his teatime as well.
"GENERAL ALERT. GENERAL ALERT. ALL SECTIONS TO STATUS FOUR. ALL SECTIONS TO STATUS FOUR. ALL INMATES, REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE. ALL INMATES, REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE. DO NOT MOVE. DO NOT MOVE."
The dragon's ears were filled with the rattle of noise, coming from the machinery that drove armored steel panels up from their hidden storage compartments to cover the panes of glass that admitted sunlight into the Director's spacious office from all directions, whatever the time of the day.
"GENERAL ALERT. GENERAL ALERT."
A momentary darkness fell into the room when the windows became blocked, but the overhead lights came on automatically after the protective shields had slammed into place. The dragon knew that a similar security feature would have closed the entry into the elevator shaft that served as the primary entrance into the Director's office as well as the staircase, now also tightly shut by the vault-like doors designed to keep any intruder out.
Director Crocker placed his teacup down onto its dainty saucer and then swiveled on his chair, to move over to the computer so that he could call up the live data followup from the security system.
"Unfortunate," he muttered even before he had clicked on the icon which shifted the display to give him a general overview of the situation, beginning with the nature of the alarm. The readout told him that it had been manually triggered by one of the alarm switches founds on the walls throughout the facility, and it had come from the D Block. The alarm had automatically brought in camera feeds onto the Director's monitors, so that he could see the scene that opened on the site of the given distress call.
Silent or not, the image still conveyed the tension and the fear of the situation unfolding some hundred yards from Crocker's own location.
The nude prisoners were mulling around, many with shocked faces. One inmate was lying down on the floor, with two guards kneeling over him to check up on the situation.
This sight concerned Crocker, whom frowned immediately. The Facility's zero tolerance on any violence was something he took extremely seriously, and their strict success on this matter was a point of pride for the dragon whenever he talked about the great results attained at his prison, his personal realm...his lair.
"Oh dear," Crocker mused again. "This won't do. Not at all."
"THIS IS GENERAL ALARM. THIS IS GENERAL ALARM. EVERYONE MUST REMAIN IN PLACE. EVERYONE MUST REMAIN IN PLACE. THIS IS GENERAL ALARM."
The drake's desk contained several telephone receivers - of the proper kind, old-fashioned perhaps, but they carried a certain air of authority the dragon somewhat preferred. One of them he only used for this particular purpose, and a single key stroke was all that was required for the phone to connect and then ring on the other end of the line.
"Yes, sir?" a terse voice replied. Muffled noises were obviously yelling on the background of whoever was speaking.
"Report, please, Ryles" said Crocker, into the phone that provided a direct link into the main security control room, deep within the building in a highly fortified location.
"Disturbance in the D Block, sir. We have isolated the section and are deploying the Special Squad to apprehend the inmate in question. He is attempting to escape after assaulting another inmate. Medical teams have been also been alerted to the site."
"Has the assailant been identified?" Crocker snapped impatiently.
"Yes, sir," came the answer, "it is the Brute, sir."
"I need proper identification!" the dragon was starting to sound exasperated. "How else do we know who we are against?"
"Excuse me sir, yes, it's Douglas Wenton, sir. He's serving three concurrent life sentences for homicide - "
"Of course," the dragon said. Now the name made sense, considering that he could even remember if from before they had the pleasure of hosting the said character. The tabloids just loved such a moniker, the dragon thought dryly. "Now, secure all personnel and inmates into their blocks and deploy the Special Squad immediately as per your plan. We must search and secure the prison at once before any more harm can come to the facility or the people here."
"Everything is underway, sir," came the curt reply of the fox from the control room, "all exits from the D Block have been closed remotely and have been confirmed as shut by the staff. We are making sure that nobody has managed to leave the section."
"I want everyone to be at constant vigilance until he has been apprehended," Crocker rumbled. "I cannot tolerate anyone else being hurt because of someone's ill behavior."
"Yes, sir. We shall capture him as soon as we can, sir."
"I expect nothing less," said the dragon in his newly armored lair. "I will be in touch again soon."
"Yes, sir."
Crocker closed the phone, and turned his eyes back onto the computer screen, now showing how the emergency medics were beginning to tend to the unconscious victim of the assault in his prison.
"This won't do at all," said Crocker, to himself, and clicked his tongue.
His tea had started to go to cold, too.
"Most displeasing."
The dragon opened a new window for the inmate roster, and began to recall the information provided about the Brute.
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"THIS IS GENERAL ALARM. EVERYONE MUST REMAIN IN YOUR SECTIONS. DO NOT MOVE. DO NOT MOVE. THIS IS GENERAL ALARM."
Douglas Wenton, the Brute, was panting harshly in his hidden corner along an otherwise deserted hallway in the maintenance section of D block. The alarms blared all around him, complete with flashing red warning lights up by the ceiling. The shrill noise made the stallion's ears go flat against his skull and fester there. His heart beat fast and a sheen of cold sweat covered his body, toned muscle that was completely naked except for a pair of boxers that slung to his hips. The huge bulge on the front was made even more prominent by the prison issue plastic chastity cage that covered his member and made sure that he could not touch himself, even if the desire to pleasure himself had been growing to immense levels in the past few days.
The Brute did not want to have anything to do with it.
He'd been in the prison for months now, and he'd seen the others starting to succumb to this strange lust, practically humping one another in the hopes of getting some relief to the sexual urgency that filled them, even when unable to touch themselves. Something...
- something they did to us, the horse thought, something was making them behave like that.
Something in the prison air, the food, the water, the electronic waves, whatever it was, thought the Brute, was making card-carrying members of the pussy-eating squad to start considering cornholing each other simply because they got boners that wouldn't go down.
"THIS IS GENERAL ALARM. ALL INMATES MUST REMAIN IN PLACE. ALL INMATES MUST REMAIN IN PLACE FOR THE SEARCH OF THE FACILITY. DO NOT MOVE. THIS IS GENERAL ALARM."
The horse could hear the yelling and the sharp footfalls in the distance, beyond walls, other corridors and levels.
Everyone was running around.
He let out a stiff, tense nicker. They were onto him, they were going to find him soon if he didn't move. He'd managed to deck that fucking rabbit who had tried to grope his ass and move out of the exercise area before anyone had had the chance to stop him, and he had dodged the guards and managed to find a door that opened into this space not normally allowed for the inmates.
The air was warmer in there, making him even sweatier despite the harsh panting that kept his lungs filling and emptying rapidly. His body was highly charged, not only because of the adrenaline he was sure to be pumping throughout his veins. The persistent erection, the lusty thoughts, this thing that he knew was fucking up with his mind and body as well and making him feel...murderous.
I have to get out of this fucking place, The Brute thought. He sought the corridor, up and down either side to see whether it was safe to proceed. He was sure that the wardens might be coming down the corridor at any moment, brandishing their weapons.
Had they been carrying arms in the floor...the horse would've already been in possession of a pistol, the stallion thought with pleasure at the idea of the cold steel pressing onto his palm, like an extension of his and.
A death-giving hand perfectly under his control.
"ALL PERSONNEL MUST REPORT TO YOUR EMERGENCY STATIONS. ALL PERSONNEL MUST REPORT TO YOUR EMERGENCY STATIONS."
The horse's ears flapped backwards. He wondered if that announcement was meant for the staff and not for everyone in the prison. He made another look back and forth along the hallway and stalked forward. The noises his hooves made on the concrete floor sounded awfully loud, unnatural, even.
Maybe there was something wrong about his ears, too. Maybe they were messing up with everything about him, turning him into something...
Something fantastically perverted.
His cock throbbed painfully with every step he took, harsh and measured while his eyes sought out to see any sign of a potential exit. The corridor turned to the right on its end and then carried on once again, with no "EXIT" sign in sight even then. He felt like he had moved for a hundred yards or more, though it was hard to determine the distance when his brain was doing so many things at once.
This fucking place needs to be destroyed and shut fucking down.
He reached a door and pushed on the bar to try and release it, but it wouldn't budge. A red light was flashing above the solid door. He kicked it and let out a pained whinny, full of frustration as much as his displeasure.
"Shit! Fuck!"
He yanked on the bar again, and once more, without a chance. The Brute abandoned this attempt soon, and ran through the corridor in the hopes that its other end would provide another possible escape.
*
Director Crocker picked up the phone receiver even before the first ring had stopped reverberating.
"Yes?" the dragon rumbled.
"Ryles here on Control," came the voice of the senior warden fox, "he's breached a maintenance door on section D-25 and gone into the maintenance passage. We're tracking him with the cameras and have dispatched personnel to all exists."
The dragon felt his muscles tense. This situation was still far from over.
"Is there any way he can get out of that corridor?"
"He may attempt to get into the air conditioning shafts into the D Block pump rooms, but we are not sure if he can manage to get through. Otherwise he might try to use the main corridor to get to C Block but the airlock doors are locked and he can't get through without a pass code."
"Dispatch the Special Squad into the maintenance corridor and ensure he can't get out," Crocker commanded. "He is obviously still a danger to himself and the general population."
"Yes, sir," the fox replied.
"Keep me informed," Crocker said, and lowered the receiver back onto the phone.
The dragon shook his head.
"Should keep the collars until E Block..." he muttered to himself," a policy review may have to be in order...they are pretty, after all..."
He leaned back on his chair, and stared at the fortified windows in front of him.
"Perhaps we need a new prisoner uniform..." the drake continued his sour monologue.
*
"OUT OF THE WAY!"
The normally languid prison section was full of terrified men who ducked into the sides when the group of furs in all black rushed through, brandishing shields, gas masks and weapons in their mad rush to contain the escaping convict. The Special Squad had been activated immediately after the alarm had been given, and mere minutes later, regular guards had swapped their uniforms for Kevlar, Nomex and high-grade polycarbonate to become armored warriors instead. With their arms straining under the weight of combat shields, batons and tasers, they had made their way across the facility, with the commands coming from the control room piped into their radio earpieces, moving effectively and without a wasted step.
"Control to Red Leader."
"Red Leader, go" answered Jacob Lyde, the tiger commander of the Red Team, assigned to protect Blocks D and E from immediate threads.
"Red Leader, target has been spotted on section D-18 attempting to breach a door. Proceed with extreme caution and use all measures needed to apprehend target."
"Roger, Control. We are on our way," panted the tiger into his throat mic.
A red light flashed above the maintenance door that had been torn open with pure strength, admitting the escaped convict into the bowels of the Re-Education Facility. Warden Lyde raised his gun up and pointed the tactical light down the hallway that opened from the door, to look for the telltale eye flash of a fur looking back at them.
"FIRST SIGHT CLEAR, GO, GO, GO, PROCEED ON DOUBLE FORMATION!"
Two of the guards fell side by side and moved through the door before they formed a kind of a living, mobile shelter for the rest of them, their shields held together while they moved in a semi-squat behind them, in their helmets, dragging their heavy gear.
"Red Leader to Control, we have cleared the first section, proceeding towards the next section."
"Roger, Red Leader. We've visual on the target on the maintenance door to Section D-17."
"Roger and out," grunted the tiger. "You heard him, he's moving forward, keep going!"
Their tension grew even further, going through the next section where they passed the door that the stallion had spent some time trying to open before giving up and moving on. They had no idea whether the escapee knew that his apprehenders were closing in, although surely he knew that every single member of the Facility staff was on the lookout for him.
"Control, do you have visual on whether subject has arms or not?" hissed the tiger into his radio.
He did not want this to end in any more blood spilled.
"Roger, Red Leader, no visual of weapon."
The tiger knew that meant less than it sounded like. The murderer they were chasing after was dangerous enough even when using his bare hands, his teeth, his hooves. He was a fighting machine, an instrument of death...
The Special Squad took formation into another corner of the hallway.
"Mirror!" hissed the tiger.
The forward squad man deployed a small telescopic mirror and peered across the void to see over to the other side.
"Target acquired!" the forward guard hissed.
This was it, they thought as one, none more than Jacob Lyde, clutching his gun.
"Flash!" the tiger ordered.
The only warning the Brute got of his impeding capture was the click of metal hitting concrete, followed by a deafening din and a flash of light that overloaded his senses and forced the horse to clutch his hands over them in pain.
Heavily booted footpaws clattered on the floor, shields knocked together, they moved in a throng.
"TARGET!"
"Taser!"
The metal spikes caught the Brute's bare chest and transmitted thousands of volts of electricity into his body, causing every muscle in the convict's body to seize up. He collapsed to the floor, teeth clenched together, a voiceless groan on his lips when the continuous energy kept his body in a state of seizure.
*
"Sir, the convict has been apprehended."
Director Crocker let out a trill of pleasure, with a measure of relief as well.
"Casualties?" he asked.
"None. The Brute...Wenton has been apprehended and is being transferred to confinement under heavy guard."
"Good. Have the entire Special Squad stand by until he is secured in the confinement section. I shall be there soon personally."
"Sir - "
"The lockdown must be maintained until we have a complete head count of all personnel and inmates," Crocker continued, "we have to ensure there are no further casualties or any other escapees."
"Yes, sir", the fox on the other end of the line replied.
"What is the latest on the status of the injured inmate?"
"I shall phone the infirmary, sir."
"Excellent," said Crocker. "And as for...the Brute...I shall consult with Doctors Walsh and Tabard to see what our options are."
"Yes, sir."
"Carry on."
The Director placed down the receiver, and picked another phone. He had more calls to make now.
"Most unpleasant..." he rumbled.
*
Even after the all clear sounded, Director Crocker decided that a show of power and a bit of extra security would not be harmful for him as the ultimate chief on top of the prison hierarchy, and hence he had two guards accompany him, from his office and through the hallways into the so-called Special Wing of the prison. This was where experimental work was being carried out, and indeed, where the confinement section was located where unruly prisoners were taken if they misbehaved in a particularly unacceptable fashion. The Brute's escape attempt certainly warranted him a stay in one of the rooms, bare but for the table he was strapped on and where he could be viewed through a one-way mirror from an observation corridor.
Director Crocker stood there now, flanked by a fellow dragon and a lion, both wearing lab coats to show their ranking as members of the Experimental Division. All of them gazed through the trick mirror into the room beyond where the stallion laid bound onto the padded table, staring idly into the ceiling above. He was nude now but for the chastity cage containing his thick horse cock, and a little white bandage on his chest where the TASER spikes had penetrated onto the skin and muscle to unleash their paralyzing energy.
His expression was entirely blank.
"Tricky, very tricky," murmured Doctor William Walsh, the lion staring at the horse upon his pedestal with bespectacled leonine eyes.
"He was proceeding on the programme according to the average distribution for his metabolism, body weight..." the dragon on Crocker's left added.
"But psychologically, he wasn't," Crocker cut in.
His fellow dragon clicked his tongue.
"The latest bloodwork will be in from the laboratory soon," the draconian Doctor Tabard said. "Perhaps it will teach us some more."
"It is a very rare failure of the regime," Doctor Walsh noted thoughtfully, "but someone always has to be that one percent who slips through."
"I thought you had perfected the conditioning regime so that it was fully effective on psychopaths as well," Crocker looked at the dragon by him. "You told me yourself that - "
The dragon frowned, pursing his lips.
"Mister Wenton is a particularly dysfunctional individual," he said, "his sociopathic tendencies are intense, and even maximum oxytocin stimulation has not triggered a wanted reduction in his violent behavior, nor an increased social appetite."
"Or sexual..." said Doctor Walks, "although obviously his arousal regime has been a success."
"But not of the sort that we want," Crocker said, "he attacked an inmate and had the potential to harm many others as well in his escape. It appeared that he intended to deliberately do so, too."
"We are dealing with an individual whose neuropsychiatric issues are highly complex," Doctor Tabard said, "yes, he is a garden variety psychopath with sociopathic behavior, but to say that is to make a gross generalization, of course. The actual biological faults on the cellular level, the neurochemistry, not to mention the psychological damage he has endured in his childhood that steered him into this direction..."
"Yes we should be able to deal with both," Crocker said, eyes on the prone form of the horse,"to undo the damage...to suppress all those negative urges and replace them with positive ones."
"It is an interesting dilemma," Doctor Walsh said, "but I am confident we can learn a lot about the processes that drive him, and to employ what we learn here in other difficult cases we might face in the future."
"There's always someone who takes onto it worse than others," Doctor Tabard said, "it's a fact of nature. This is not an exact science."
"We cannot deal in generalizations," Crocker said, "It is obvious that a highly personalized regime must be instituted to ensure that prisoner Wenton will receive the maximum benefit from our conditioning."
"Indeed, sir," Tabard nodded, "we shall have to look into our options."
"Indeed we do..." trilled the Director. "I presume you have to offer to me."
"Of course, sir," Doctor Walsh bowed his head in agreement, "once we have charted the situation, we can produce a plan on how to help inmate Wenton with his problems and create the best functioning personalized regime for his benefit."
"I trust you to be able to accomplish that in due time," said Crocker, "issues like this cannot crop up often to disturb the peaceful functioning of my Facility."
"Yes, sir," nodded the dragon as well.
"But I trust you to do your best," the Director raised his hands and patted both of the scientists on their shoulders, "you are highly valuable assets, after all, and great minds...think alike..."
"Yes, sir," said the lion.
"Indeed, sir," said the fellow dragon.
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Thank you for reading my story! I hope you had a good time, and I look forward to your feedback! Remember that all votes, faves and watches will also help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
Cheerio!
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