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Fuzzy logic: Alternate Anthro History:

October 12th, 1908, Fair Port, Eastern seaboard of the United States.

Six men dressed in their street clothes, manacled hand and foot, and chained together, leave the courthouse looking grim. They shuffle together under the watch of a constable and the jailer following the men, armed with a over-under shotgun. Their crimes and prison sentences vary, but their fates are the same: the dreaded Fort Bradly prison. The prisoners were marched across a small walled in yard to a waiting prison wagon behind the courthouse, where a second prison guard and tall black Bovine stood.

They were stopped in a line as a cold misting rain started--standard October weather for the coastal town of Fair Port.

The black bull dressed in a gray naval officer's uniform glared at the line of men.

“All of you must now earn your freedom through your time in the penitentiary." He paused for a long time. “Or, if you choose, you may earn your freedom in half that term through impressment to the Tau Navy."

Some of the men looked a bit stirred by the option, and a few simply remained grim and stern.

“It will not be a easy path, but if you fill the requirements, and serve your commitment without a court-martial, and receive a service discharge, you will be free." the idea seemed promising to some of the men.

“Well?" prodded the jailer holding the keys. “Hurry up and choose!" he said slightly indignantly, annoyed at getting wet for what he thought of as theatrics.

“I will sir." the youngest prisoner raised his manacled hand slightly, looking a bit timid.

The tougher looking one spoke next. “I'll join." he said stern and quietly without moving.

A third looked a bit shifty before speaking up. “Me as well." He said softly.

A fourth told the bull to, "Go to hell," before receiving a strike and a reprimand from the constable.

“Mind your manners prisoner."

The jailer with the keys unlocked the chains from the three who volunteered for the navy, and chained them together forming a separate chain gang. As the other three were taken into the prison wagon.

“You will be held to account for your crimes, and you will atone and learn." the bull said.

As the bull spoke the wagon with the other prisoners left the walled yard through a iron barred gate, and a second wagon entered.

“If you fail in your duties, or are unrepentant, you will not go unpunished."

The large Tau-sized wagon stopped behind him and a ramp was lowered.

“If you are court-martialed in the navy, you will serve the rest of your prison sentence," the bull pointed at the waiting wagon for emphasis, “and if you fail your duties, and thus fail to earn your service discharge. You will be held in service until your sentence is complete," he said coldly.

The three men standing chained together each wondered what they were getting into.

***************

The wagon arrived at the harbor, and proceeded to a large private pier. The prisoners had only a small barred window to see out of, so they were disoriented even by the relatively short trip.

The concrete pier was surrounded by a tall brick wall topped with barbed wire. Most of the pier was covered with a long brick warehouse. The building had ample windows but they were small and more than twelve feet off the ground. The place looked like a prison.

The three new men were ordered out of the wagon, and lined up. There were three other wagons and from them were led seven other men in chains. All ten were lined up, and the chains were removed by the jailers.

There was a wooden sign above the double doors that entered the building, with a black painted Gothic script that made no sense, as it wasn't in English.

An ornate black carriage pulled up to the warehouse and one man wearing a gray sailor's uniform jumped down from the top seat and opened the carriage door.

The black bull from the courthouse, dressed in a dark leather overcoat and gray leather hoof covers stepped out and glared at the ten men, before turning and walking towards the warehouse. The human that had opened the carriage was already moving towards the building's door and opened it with a bowed head.

A white Bull dressed in a gray Navy tunic armed with a long rifle and bayonet approached and barked loudly. “Prisoners! Enter the processing building!" he commanded. It almost seemed like he was angry with the men for not knowing what to do.

The men were startled by the loud and forceful booming voice and aggressive and angry presence.

A second bull, creamy white in color, in the same uniform and armed with a black leather strap exited the building through the same door and shouted as well.

“Move! Go!" He struck the palm of his massive hand loudly with his doubled over strap for emphasis.

The men moved inside quickly, followed by the two bulls.

The first room was large and had bars on the windows. The bare concrete floor and bars made it feel just like prison. The black bull was separated from the men by a bars and a gate. There were rugs and furniture sized for a bull on that side of the bars. The humans from the carriage were taking his overcoat and the other kneeled and removed the leather hoof covers.

The prisoners were lined up on a black line on the floor by the two bulls. They looked around the huge open room, Electric lights hung overhead illuminating the room, and there were a lot of iron bars and gates. The men looked around nervously as the cream colored bull with the leather strap paced in front of them.

The black bull was walking up a iron staircase to a mezzanine area to the left, and took a seat on a comfortable looking couch, with a view down on the processing rooms below.

The white bull stood in attention with his rifle in both hands behind the men, between them and the door.

The cream bull stopped to addressed his charges.

“I am Artillery Sergeant Aljistarjie. You are mine until you pass or fail my processing." He hung his strap from a clasp on his belt.

“All of you have opted for service in the the Grand Imperial Tau Navy in place of long prison terms. That does not mean we must take you." His eyes bored into each of the men. “If you fail, Sergeant Bortagh will escort you out that door and you will be returned to the Human penitentiary to serve your full sentence," he said firmly with an outstretched arm pointing past them to the Sargent and the door.

“Turn your asses around and look!" the Artillery Sergeant shouted.

The men turned about and faced at the door they entered.

The strange Gothic script above the door was again incomprehensible. Below it in neat red script was presumably the translation:

“Failures"

“If you go through that door you will spend the next eight years or more in a cell remembering that you are a failure. Do not disappoint me." the Artillery Sergeant stressed.

After a moment Sargent Bortagh shouted, “Initiates about face!"

The men quickly obeyed and turned back to the Artillery Sergeant.

“Now strip," the Artillery Sergeant said with his arms crossed.

The shyer of the men looked to the others before unbuttoning their shirts, the tougher of the men simply started to undress.

Once the men were in their undergarments the Bull scowled. “I said strip. All the way."

Some of the men with military or prison experience complied without much hesitation, the ones without shyly struggled. The youngest dawdled with his hands on his shorts.

“You!" the Artillery Sergeant shouted pointing his finger at the young man. “Front and center!"

The young man's skin burned red as he stepped up to the Artillery Sergeant.

“Turn around and drop those shorts," he said softer.

The man turned and gulped. He was shaking as he dropped his underwear and exposed himself to the line of fellow prisoners.

“Good. This is no place to be shy, boy." The Sergeant's strap snapped on his bare ass cheek making him squeek and jump a bit.

“Get back in line."

An iron barred door to the right opened and three bulls in white uniforms entered, and took places by wooden tables spaced across the right wall. They looked vaguely like medical personnel and armed with clipboards they started setting up.

Artillery Sergeant Aljistarjie called out: “First prisoner:Jamison, George; you are now prisoner 764-32! Front and center!"

The stern and strong looking middle aged man with a large cock stepped up confidently. He had both military and prison experience. This was nothing new to him.

Aljistarjie looked at him for a moment. “You have great potential. Follow the black line and stop at the circles until told otherwise. Go." The naked man walked calmly, following the line towards the desks.

“Next, Smith, Jake; Prisoner 764-33!"

The next man, a shifty looking thin man approached the Sergeant. He was a criminal by nature, but nothing violent. Tricks, cons, and thievery. No good in general.

“I know what you are, and what you do. Try me, and I will send you out that door." he pointed to the exit. “Follow the black line and stop at the circles until told otherwise. Go."

“Biscuit, Jayson; Prisoner 764-34!"

The youngest and shyest approached covering his privates.

“You have a lot to learn boy, but you will be fine. Stand here next to me, and place you hands on the back of your head... turn around boy, don't be dense!" Aljistarjie ordered.

Jayson stood next the the cream bull fully exposed to the other prisoners with his hands on the back of his head, exposed to the other men.

“Alright now you filthy animals! March! Through the gate! Go!" The crack of Aljistarjies strap on a man's ass punctuated the Sargeant's words.

The black line lead to an open gate, inside of a white tile hall. One side had a thick glass window with large bolts holding the steel frame in place. Bulls watched from there, including Aljistarjie, while Sargent Bortagh slammed the gate shut behind them. A bull in goggles and a black rubber apron, gloves, and hoof boots had a bucket of white powder that he started throwing handfuls at the men suddenly. All of them but Jamison, who stood there stoically, recoiled some from the strange smelling powder. “We can't have you bringing vermin with you now can we?" the rubber clad bull said through his white cotton face mask.

The next surprise was a blast of cold water from a fire hose.

Jayson faced the armored window and covered his face as the jet of water danced over the line of naked men.

Jayson opened his eyes briefly and saw Aljistarjie on the other side of the glass watching him with his arms crossed.

Once the hose stopped, the bull barked at the men to reform the line. They all did so slowly, wet and cold.

The bull opened the iron gate leading to the next room, turning to the right, also white tile with an armored window.

“Get going! Go boys, Go!" the bull that had hosed them exhorted.

The black line continued, and half way across the room was a black circle. They all stopped facing the window. This room had iron pipes crossing the ceiling in front of the window, and wooden benches in the back with towels. Once the men entered, the first bull slammed the gate shut behind them.

The water started to stream from the iron piped overhead, forming ten showers only a foot from the glass. The men looked but did nothing.

A small grate in the window allowed Aljistarjie to speak to them. “Wash up boys! I want you all clean, and smelling like roses!" he shouted through the port.

The men reached out and tested the water, finding it warm.

“Here's soap!" another bull in black rubber garments said, dropping each man a bar on the ground at their feet.

Jayson reached down and grabbed his without thinking, but shyly blushing, realized he had made the greatest prison faux pas. He quickly stood and looked behind him; through the glass was Aljistarjie arms crossed, but smiling.

Everyone started washing with the soap bars provided, and the rubber clad bull started helping as he saw fit.

He personally took a washcloth to every man's ass. When it was Jayson's turn, the bull pushed him against the glass and grabbed him by the balls, holding him in place with them firmly as his fingers washed Jayson's back side. Aljistarjie was still watching very closely through the glass.

Once everyone was done with that humiliating experience the water was shut off with a single valve, and everyone stood wet, but at least warm.

“What are you all waiting for? The bull shouted. “Towels are on the bench. Take one."

The men moved quickly and grabbed a towel and dried off. Everyone wrapped the towel around their waist.

“All right! Get moving!" the bull shouted and opened the next iron grate. The line of dripping but clean men followed the black line around to the right and into the final tile room, stopping to face Aljistarjie, this time standing not behind glass, but right in front of them.

His arms were still crossed, but his face was a scowl of disappointment.

“Who told you to dress in those towels?" he said loudly. The men started to shift uneasily.

Aljistarjie walked up and ripped the towel from Jayson. “Boy, hold this," he said, putting the towel in Jayson's hand as he pulled out his strap. “Five steps forward now."

Jayson timidly holding the towel took five steps forward.

“Smack!" the leather strap left a red rectangle across Jayson's ass.

“Did I tell you to wear a towel?"

“No sir!" Jayson said shaking.

“Back in line."

Jayson quickly obeyed.

The other men had already removed their towels.

“Five steps forward," Aljistarjie said to the next man, as he made his way down the line.

Once every ass had a red rectangle on it he faced them all.

“You will do what I say, when I say. Not more. Not less. Understood?" he asked once he was done with them all.

“Yes sir!" the chorus rang out.

Bortagh opened the gate leading back into the main room.

“Put your wet towels in the basket and then follow the line to the next station." Bortagh barked.

Once everyone was lined up before the first medical station, Aljistarjie gave Jayson a quick slight lick of the strap on his ass and ordered him to the front of the line.

The first stations medical staffer called, “Prisoner 764-34!"

“That's you Boy! Remember your number!" Aljistarjie exclaimed and the boy jumped up to the station.

A small stool was before the table and he was ordered up on it by the brown bull in the white exam coat.

The medical exam that followed was embarrassing to a man in private, and humiliating beyond comprehension for a boy in front of an audience.

“Bend forward, and spread your cheeks." the Brown bull said softly but firmly. He had done this a thousand times.

Gulping the boy did so.

The bull examined him there, and pulled on his ball-sack as well.

Walking around to the front of the boy again, the bull looked at his cock. Taking out a string he measured the boy's penis with casual disinterest.and not just a quick how long, but girth length, measurements of the head and base, around the balls, without the balls, and even measuring the balls with small calipers. All this was carefully notated by a second bull on a clipboard.

“Go to the next station." he said casually once he was done.

Jayson hopped down and the next prisoner was called.

He followed the black line twenty feet away where the next desk was, and a stool waited. The brown bull with the clipboard followed him and the bull sitting at the desk took out a tape measure and measured his height, chest, hips, arms, head, and just about every other thing as the brown bull dutifully recorded the called out measurements to the chart.

“Go to the booth and wait." the bull said as he finished the last measurements on his neck.

Jayson meekly followed the black line to the next circle and waited. Before him was a concrete wall painted white, forming a box with a doorway, covered by a black cloth curtain.

The curtain was pulled back and a black bull in a gray Navy tunic called his number.

Entering the booth he had to step up on a platform, the black line lead to a black circle in the middle of the small white walled room. Stopping there the bull ordered him to face him, to the shy humans displeasure there was a camera. The bull pulled the cloth over the door shut, and the room was quite bright from its own electric lights in the ceiling and on the wall behind the bull and camera.

The black bull pulled the cloth covering the camera over his head, with only his huge horns poking out, and started to pose the boy.

“Step back one step... Look at the camera… arms out more. Good, stay still!" there was some clicking noise from the camera and a flash. Then more orders. “Turn slowly to your right...stop!" arms down. Hold still." more clicks and flashes, Jayson was ordered to turn more and photographed from every side.

He wasn't sure what they would do with these photos.

“Ok, now go to the bench there and sit." the bull gestured as he pulled back the cloth from the camera.

To Jayson's left was a strange bench with a camera mounted on a movable arm above the bench. He approached in uneasy and tried to figure out how one was supposed to sit on it.

The black bull in the white coat just grabbed him and bull-handled him into place. Taking the camera that was mounted on a movable metal arm, he placed it right over Jayson's crotch. Manipulating the controls, to Jayson's shock the bull took a picture of his penis!

The bull moved quickly, "Turn over!" he helped Jayson flip over and lay with his ass bent over the edge of the bench. “grab your cheeks and spread."

Jayson shyly obeyed the bull, spreading his cheeks and exposing his ass for a picture.

There was a click and a flash and Jayson turned deep red in shame.

“All right. Go, wait at the next stop." the bull said moving the camera back, then opening the exit curtain for him. “Go, Go." he was shooed away.

**********************************

It was almost an hour later when all the men were done, and as they lined up they were issued cheap skivvies and a shirt of rough material. They were taken to a soup line where bread and soup were served unceremoniously. A row of wooden tables and benches awaited and they ate in silence watched over by bulls.

They were told when they were done, and lined up for cleaning. Marched into the kitchen they made short work of the bowls, utensils, and pots and pans. It was made clear several times that everything was to be done in silence. Aljistarjie explained that there was to be silence, and that any necessary questions could be asked by addressing the bull in charge as 'Sir.' and waiting to be told to speak. A red rectangle on one man's ass was enough for the group to learn that quickly.

Aljistarjie taught them basic marching drills as they marched through the building. Marching to the bathrooms for a five minute toilet stop and brushing of teeth. Aljistarjie personally inspected every man before having Bortagh issue each man a sip of whisky if they were clean. They were then marched into a large open room with iron bars for walls on all sides. The middle of the room were wooden and canvas cots lined up in two neat rows. Bortagh unlocked and opened the iron gate and Aljistarjie marched the men in. they were lined up by the cots and stood in attention waiting for permission to lay down. Aljistarjie walked out of the caged part of the room and Bortagh closed and locked the gate. The men stood in two rows at the foot of the cots looking around carefully with their eyes. No one spoke. No one moved. It seemed like forever passed, but then suddenly, Aljistarjie was there. Just outside the gate. Bortagh appeared and opened the gate for him.

“Good. I'm proud of you boys. Everyone passed that test. No one moved, and no one spoke. Everyone will get a extra sip of whisky tomorrow if you boys don't mess up between now and then." Aljistarjie said as he paced up the row looking. He was always looking. Like he could see something more than what they could. Reading the men. Knowing the men.

“Alright" he said as he stopped at the far end of the room and turned about. “Everyone in bed, You boys have a big day tomorrow." he watched the men scrambled onto the cots behind them.

Bortagh and a human dressed in a gray tunic carrying blankets entered the cage. Bortagh passed a folded fuzzy gray blanket to each man as he worked his way up and down the row. Once done Aljistarjie passed down the line and stepped out of the cage and Bortagh closed and locked it.

The lights went out leaving only a faint illumination from a glass window of the night watch office.

“If you have any needs in the night, you may call Sargent Bortagh. Good night." Aljistarjie said as he turned his back and left the room.

“Wish Artillery Sergeant Aljistarjie a good night!" Bortagh shouted angrily at the silent room.

“Good night Artillery sergeant Aljastarjie." a unenthusiastic and uncertain chorus called out from the dark.

“Good night my boys." Aljistarjie said faintly as he left.

Bortagh closed a small wooden door to the night watch room. The men could see him settling in there and reading through a small window. There was a brass grate so he could listen for trouble in the cage as well. There was none. No one moved. Once someone tried to talk but everyone else hissed for him to shut up. There were still several red and stinging asses to remind their the men sleeping on them to be good.