I’m not entirely happy with this story.
If I’m honest, I’m not happy at all with it, but I’m also fed up of staring at it for weeks on end, so now someone else can stare at instead, if they want. It was something I started about a week or so after publishing When Tori Forgot, and it was meant to be a short, simple story… instead it turned into a sprawling monstrosity that was originally longer than the aforementioned! I’ve already trimmed about four pages and one character from it to get it down to this length, but I’m not sure I can cut any more without just giving in and re-writing the whole thing, and, as it’s not a story I’m too keen on now, I doubt I’d ever get around to giving it a re-write, so I’m just posting it and moving on…
This is cybernetic barrister, Robot Tinder. He’s spent his career fighting injustice, and now he’s ready to rule in the Tinder Court!
Judge Tinder was a late night show and blatant parody of Judge Rinder, which in itself was a rip-off of Judge Judy. Judge Tinder had made its name by not only being an exceptionally poor copy, but also by being off-the-wall crazy. As the name suggested, it was in-part sponsored by the Tinder app, and it dealt specifically with relationships, one-night stands, occasional STDs and all the other muck that decent television wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. The people producing it knew this too, but that didn’t affect the show in any way, and so it had gained a bit of a cult following for being ridiculous, over-the-top and utterly dreadful in every way.
“Anna is in court today claiming that the defendant’s bizarre sexual desires ended their relationship and left Anna an emotional wreck,” declared the show’s introductory voiceover as Anna entered the court from the left. “She claims that his lack of interest in conventional sex and the weird things he put her through left her feeling used, abused and unattractive.”
Anna was a woman in her mid-twenties, with a natural-looking tan. She was a little on the tall side for a woman, even taking her high heels into consideration, and she had a good figure that she knew how to dress. Anna’s hair was thick, black, glossy and straight, running just past her shoulders and framing her face. She had attractive features, but with a stony gaze that suggested she was here on business, and business alone, though it was possible that she was just someone who looked grumpy by default. Either way, Anna was wearing a pair of crimson red high-heeled ankle boots, with black tights, a matt black leather miniskirt and a dark red sleeveless top. The top was low-cut and tight to Anna’s chest, and she complimented it with a black choker and several black leather bracelets worn on her left arm. Her fingernails were painted crimson too, but her lipstick was a brighter red, and all the make-up was applied flawlessly, making it very clear that Anna was a woman who knew how to look and dress well.
“Defendant Mark is in court today because he thinks that’s whack and that the relationship ended because of Anna, not him. He counter-claims that, had she been more open to new ideas in the bedroom, things wouldn’t have become so stale between them.”
Mark was a thirty-something lad of about average height, with a slim physique and a strong orange-y tan. He had bleach blonde hair, styled in a messy side-swept fashion, coupled with a clean-shaven jawline and a stud in each ear. He was wearing a very sharply-pressed, tightly-fitted white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows and several buttons undone to expose his chest, paired with dark jeans that finished just above his ankles and a pair of brown leather brogues with no socks. He had the look of a fairly typical jack-the-lad, it was easy to imagine him knocking back shots in a nightclub with his mates, walking like there was a stone in his shoe, with a cocky smirk plastered across his face.
“All rise for the honourable Judge Tinder,” announced the show’s bailiff, whose voice made it clear he was also the show’s voiceover announcer. His name was Kenneth Wayne and he had the look of a more serious Terry Crews about him, making him appear to be someone you would not want to split a trifle with, much less pick a fight.
The final entrant to the court room was the illustrious Judge Robot Tinder himself. In keeping with the show’s general theme, Robot Tinder was a man of around 6’4” with a well-toned, well-tanned physique and a hairless upper body. He wore a pair of black dress slacks with freshly polished black Oxfords and just a white collar with black bow-tie and white cuffs on his upper half, with a red sleeveless judicial robe over the top that was left open. The outfit was completed by the kind of robotic helmet that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a member of Daft Punk, with a visual display in place of a visor. The show’s judge made his way out to rapturous cheers from the studio audience and then moved to his seat of judgement at the top of the court room, where he sat down and then motioned for the rest of the court to be seated too.
Once the court’s audience had sat down, Judge Tinder spoke through the robotic voice modulator in his helmet. “Complainant,” he said, looking to Anna, “Please outline your case.”
Anna cleared her throat and looked across at Mark, stood in the dock. “Mark and I had been dating for around four years,” she said, her Essex accent coming through, but sounding somewhat clipped, as if she was putting on a slightly posh phone-voice to address the court. “And we had been living together for just over eighteen months when we split up.” She shuffled slightly behind her pulpit, looked down at her hands and then continued. “Obviously things went well for most of the relationship, we wouldn’t have lasted for as long as we did or even considered moving in together if we weren’t getting along and we did have a lot of good times, but as we started to get more serious and there was talk of marriage, Mark’s… interests… became weirder and weirder. When he first brought up a few of them, they sounded innocent enough and some even sounded like a bit of fun, so I was willing to consider them, but each time he brought them up, they got more and more perverse and I felt like I was trapped in an abusive relationship with someone sick, instead of the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”
The audience in Judge Tinder’s court were always prone to overreacting, it was part of the theatre of such a show, so they gave an appropriate gasp of shock and horror as Mark shook his head in the dock.
“By the end, we weren’t having sex at all, he wasn’t interested in it.” She looked over to Mark as her nostrils flared and she looked back to the robotic judge, “He only wanted to indulge his stupid fetishes! When we split up, it felt good to be out from under Mark, but it took me a long time to get over what he did to me. His sick obsessions left me feeling like I’d done something wrong, as if I was the freak! I was made to feel ugly and I think Mark should have to pay for that!”
Anna sneered over at Mark before continuing, “Anyway, because we lived together and had sort of mixed our two groups of friends together, it made things really difficult all around and we couldn’t just walk away. When people asked why we had split up, I couldn’t really tell them – it wouldn’t be right for me to tell them how much of a freak and a pervert Mark is, but I also couldn’t bring myself to admit that he wasn’t willing to sleep with me any more, because of how much that cut me up inside. He got close to me, made me trust him and then tried to abuse that trust to manipulate me into fulfilling his sick desires.”
The LED display on the judge’s helmet showed a red dot moving in a circular pattern as he processed this information for a moment. “Complainant, please confirm who ended the relationship.”
Anna looked over at Mark and then back to the judge, “I ended it, your honour. I didn’t feel like I could continue living with, or dating, a man that didn’t find me attractive.” She narrowed her eyes and gave a little huff, “I deserve better than that.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” retorted the judge, cutting Anna’s pity party short. “Now confirm how long ago the relationship ended.”
“It’s been about eight months,” replied the dark-haired woman. “I broke up with Mark at the end of February.”
The judge nodded and then turned his attention towards Mark. “Defendant, please outline your defence,” he demanded.
And so Mark stated his defence, his case being based entirely on the idea that all he ever got out of Anna was vanilla sex and that it was boring. The court wasn’t too heavily in favour of him, though nothing was stated about Mark’s own preferences at this point. Mark reiterated several times that there was a lot of sex in their relationship, but it was always done in the same way – the missionary position, in the dark, and generally after Anna had had a few drinks, with him complaining that there was no variety or spice and that after four years together, he thought it was only natural to try a few new things in the bedroom to keep it interesting. He made clear that he’d never pushed any of his fetishes on Anna, but had simply asked her to consider them and made clear that they were things he wanted to try doing with – and to – her.
Throughout, Anna looked far from impressed. She didn’t look embarrassed to have their sexual history recanted before an audience and, if anything, she looked confident – there was a clear steel in her eyes and she didn’t even blink over what Mark had to say. She just looked irritated, as if the whole of Mark’s defence was a web of lies and she was frustrated that the court was even listening to them. Her long crimson nails rapped against the pulpit as she rolled her eyes at Mark’s comments about not forcing anything on her, as if that somehow made him any less of the bad guy here!
The judge tapped his chin and then looked back to Mark, “If you two lived together, and the relationship ended in February, where do you both live now?”
“Well,” said Mark, “She kicked me out, right, so I went and stayed with our Gaz for a couple of weeks until I could get me a new place. We’d been renting that flat together, so without both incomes, we had to leave, but we’d paid a month in advance so even though I was straight out of the door, right, Anna stayed on until the end of March.”
Anna gave a small shrug of the shoulders to confirm what Mark had said. “Seemed a shame to waste it! I wasn’t the problem in the relationship, so why would I move out?” She huffed and folded her arms, “And that flat was really lovely too, I hated having to move out.”
The rest of the court case carried on in much the same vein. Anna gave further testimony about how good their relationship had been, and how she really believed that Mark was “the one”, even sharing a diary extract she’d written shortly before Christmas, where she was convinced that Mark was going to propose to her, because he’d booked a weekend away for the pair, in Rome, at a five-star hotel overlooking the Trevi Fountain. Photos from the weekend break were shown, including them eating dinner at a very expensive restaurant, with very expensive wine on the table, along with general sightseeing and a few showing a lot of shopping bags and Anna’s new collection of Italian leather goods – to which Mark’s only comment was “No whips, mind.”
Further interrogation revealed that Mark worked in sales, so he spent a lot of time on the road, visiting clients and attending product launches. He cared a lot about his job, was very knowledgeable and was also very well paid and while Anna complained of the hours, she did not complain about the parties or the income. By contrast, she had been working part-time as a receptionist for the same company, but only because Mark had managed to get her a job with part-time hours, so that she could work towards a degree in Psychology on her days off. She was only two years into the course, and still had four to go before completion. She had since left the job, claiming that she was unable to face seeing Mark any more and had now taken another job to make ends meet. She also made it very clear that this was Mark’s fault too, because of his weird fetishes, and that it was just another way in which he had ruined her life.
“So, in summary,” said the judge “You’re claiming that because Mark’s sexual fantasies were getting more and more bizarre, you had not choice but to dump him. As a result, you had to leave the job Mark had got for you, and you had to move out of the flat you two shared, because you couldn’t afford it alone. Is that right?”
Anna nodded, “Yes. Mark had made me solely dependent upon him and tried to abuse his position by forcing me into more and more disgusting sexual acts, because he knew I needed him to support the lifestyle we had.”
“And did Mark ever force you into anything?”
Anna folded her arms, “He wanted to, but I wouldn’t let him!”
The judge turned to Mark, “Did you ever force Anna into anything against her will?”
“No, mate,” he replied, shaking his head. “I asked about a few things, maybe more than a few, but never forced her, I’m not that kind of guy, right?” He looked to Anna, then back to the judge, “She did try one or two things to begin with, but she was willing – I never forced her to do anything.”
“But you kept asking!” she snapped, gripping the pulpit with one hand whilst pointing at Mark with the other. “I felt guilty each time I refused and I was afraid you’d force me into worse things if I ever agreed an-”
“ORDER!” boomed the voice of Judge Tinder. “So all of this is because Mark asked you to indulge some of his sexual fantasies,” said the judge, “Please, complainant, name the defendant’s fetishes for the court.”
There was a loud cheer and whoops from some sections of the crowd as they finally neared the juicy meat of the case!
Anna unfolded her arms and leaned forwards to grip the pulpit with both hands, grinning wickedly from ear to ear – this was her time and she was going to use it to humiliate Mark completely. “Well, your honour, it started out innocently enough – he wanted me to wear a few costumes in the bedroom, stuff like a nurse or a maid, the usual kind of thing, and I was fine with that, but then he wanted to try anal and oral, but I have too much respect for myself for that, and then it got worse. Next he wanted to fuck me somewhere public and I refused because I’m no slut and then he asked about being tied up and me dominating him!” She sighed, “Just because I have the boots for it, doesn’t mean I’m going to indulge his depraved little obsessions! He wanted me to whip him and stomp on him, what kind of a man wants that? Oh, and then he wanted me to eat some whipped cream from his chest,” Anna paused and looked across to Mark and back to the judge, “I did it. Once. After that, he wanted me to eat from other parts of his body, or let him do it to me, then he wanted to shove a pie in my face, he wanted to slime me too, and then he wanted to do some really weird stuff with stockings! Like, I know he loved them and always said they made my legs look incredible, but then he wanted me to jerk him off with my feet while wearing stockings and he wanted me to let him suck my toes through the nylon and to rub them in his face.” She sighed and shook her head, “There’s probably a bunch of other stuff too that I’ve repressed, but it’s all equally weird. He’s just a one-man sexual freakshow.”
The crowd had murmured throughout Anna’s list with a few pointing or smirking, but not too many looked disgusted by what they’d heard. Judge Tinder coughed and turned his head towards the man in the dock, “Defendant, do you deny any of these fetishes?”
The whole time that Anna had been making her list, Mark had been listening, even nodding a few times, but he’d never once shook his head. “No mate, these are all things I’d asked Anna to try, so that we could spice things up in the bedroom.”
The judge nodded, “And you thought that your bedroom life needed spicing up?”
“Absolutely,” he said, even giving a wry smile. “Anna’s an attractive woman, but she’s so boring in the sack. It’s missionary or bust and sex is a pretty important part of a relationship, so it needs to be enjoyed, right?” He looked to the crowd and there was already more support for him than for Anna. “And what Anna’s not told you is that while she might not be up for giving a blowjob, she’ll gladly let you lick her out!”
Anna gasped, silenced for just a moment before she screeched, “OBJECTION!”
“On what grounds?” asked the judge.
“The- this- I-” she stammered, “This is getting a bit personal!”
“It was personal before,” replied the judge. “You rattled off as many of Mark’s fetishes as you could remember and now you’re complaining that he’s telling people he went down on you?” He shook his helmeted head. “Objection overruled. Continue with your testimony, defendant.”
Mark smirked, he enjoyed seeing Anna get knocked back like this. “Well, she enjoyed it, so I did it a few times, even if she she never repaid the favour. And, right, even if she wouldn’t domme, or use a whip, she loved digging her nails in and biting after she’d had a few drinks. I had cuts, from where she’d actually drawn blood, so she sure didn’t mind doing what she wanted!”
Kenneth the bailiff nodded, “We actually have a few photos here, from Mark.” The photo was displayed on a screen behind the bailiff, showing Mark’s bare back, with several red cuts and the tell-tale curved indentations of a bite mark. The second image then flashed up, showing Anna looking sheepish as she held a white mattress cover in her hand, with red marks on it. She looked a little embarrassed, but there was also a clear smile on her face, and while her nails were far from bloody, they were long, pointed and painted red. “These images are from last October, when the two were still a couple and the court accepts them as mighty fine evidence.”
By now, Anna was livid and it was a surprise to everyone that there hadn’t been another outburst from her. The audience had been on her side at the start of the day, but the longer this went on, the more it seemed like they were siding with Mark and not her. She looked every bit the spoilt brat as she simmered on the stand, clearly not at all happy with how this was playing out. Whatever her reasons for bringing Mark here, whether it be for the money, or for revenge, or to just out his fetishes to the world, it wasn’t really working, and now she was left more red-faced than he was.
The court then heard more about the pair’s relationship and what they had been up to since the split. Neither one had gone back to the other since the relationship ended, there weren’t even any drunken late night texts,and while both were single now, Mark had been on a few dates and Anna had claimed not have been on any, because of how much she still hurt from what Mark did to her. When it was noted that she had a few dating and hook-up apps on her phone, and that she’d been regularly updating her Match.com profile, she explained that she wanted to date, but couldn’t trust again after what Mark had done to her.
Eventually, the farce of a court case began to wind down, and both complainant and defendant were asked to give their closing statements.
Anna went first. “Your honour, noble people of the court,” she paused for a moment, “I was a loyal girlfriend, genuinely committed to a relationship that I believed was going somewhere, up until Mark started pushing his weird sexual desires on me. I had no choice but to end things and get out of there fast – something any woman would do in the context – and because of what Mark did, I’ve been made to feel ugly. He abused his position and I now find it hard to trust again, as I’ve lost my job, my flat and some of my friends to him. I’m not claiming for the money, simply for the vindication that I’m right and that Mark’s a freak, and if there’s any justice in the world, it’ll be conclusively agreed here and now that I deserved better than him!”
Mark rolled his eyes and then cleared his throat, “She’s a snake.” He said before shrugging his shoulders, “I came here with a bit of an open-mind, figured if it helped her get closure then fine, but the longer it’s gone on, the more I see it’s nothing to do with anything. We had a good relationship, and it got sour just after Christmas… which was about the time she thought I was going to propose and then didn’t. I was thinking about, I was actually saving up for a ring with a massive diamond, since I know that’s what she likes, but then she got really nasty about it. She’s a princess, she’s always wanted expensive stuff, and she does that degree part-time as an excuse not to have to work a real job, her money came from me and now from her parents and frankly, she just needs to grow up a bit. I never forced her to do anything, right? I let her do what she wanted, but she never repaid the favour, and listening to her today, she just came here to try and make me look bad in front of everyone.” He looked over his shoulder at the crowd, “She’s a money-grabber, she’s a spoiled brat and if nothing else, today’s made me realise how lucky I am to be away from her. It was all give on my part and all take on hers, and that’s why it ended – and you know what? She never once said she missed me, just that she missed the flat, and the lifestyle.” He shrugged again, “Says it all, right?”
The bailiff then turned to Judge Tinder. “Your honour, how do you find the defendant, on the weight of today’s evidence and testimony?”
“COMPUTING,” boomed the judge as the display on his visor sprung to life, filling up from one side to the other like a loading bar. Once it filled up, the court’s lights immediately dimmed, save for spots on Mark, Anna and the judge himself.
“The court finds the defendant… Not guilty!”
Mark threw his arms up in celebration as the audience clapped and cheered to celebrate his victory, and their reaction made it clear that the grand majority were on his side. Anna, meanwhile had slumped forwards, her head in her hands, buried into the stand as she wished she could be anywhere else right now.
The lights came back up as the judge spoke again, “Further to that, I find Mark exonerated on all charges of forcing anything on Anna and even if he’s into some kinky shit, it’s all perfectly legal, and as long as there’s consent, then there’s nothing wrong with any of it. The only thing I find Mark guilty of is not manning up sooner and dumping Anna first!” The audience cheered as Mark smirked before the judge continued, “Additionally, I find Anna to be a miserable bitch. She brought Mark here to humiliate him for her own amusement, simply because her life is too hollow to allow her to move on and be happy!”
Anna looked very angry now and was about to say something when the judge cried out, “SILENCE!” and stopped her in her tracks.
“I’m not finished yet,” addied the judge, “As Anna came here to claim money from Mark in damages, she receives nothing and now owes Mark repayment instead. In light of her sob stories about having no money, I have decided that she can pay Mark back by indulging one of his fetishes right here and now, for the court’s entertainment.”
Mark let out a chuckle as the audience gave a mix of shocked gasps and excited whoops to see Anna get her just desserts.
“What? No! You can’t, I won’t, this isn’t right!” shouted Anna as Kenneth stepped towards her. “This wasn’t in the contract, I’ll sue, I’ll fucking sue all of you!”
“Bitch, please,” replied the bailiff. “It’s nothing that hasn’t been seen on television before and you agreed to follow any judgment made by the robot when you signed up. Get over yourself.”
“But I didn’t expect him to find in that twat’s favour!”
“Well aren’t you a damn fool then?” he replied, as two more bailiffs approached from behind and grabbed Anna, frog-marching her to the front of the courtroom. She struggled and fought against it, trying to dig her heels in, but with no success at all as she was easily overpowered and hauled up to the front of the courtroom where she was turned around to face the audience. She tried to crane her neck to see what was going on behind her, but wasn’t very successful and her face made it clear that she was furious right now.
That expression changed a little when the audience began to cheer and laugh, some of them pointing to something going on behind Anna, but as much as she struggled, she wasn’t going to be turning around until the bailiffs let her. The audience’s reaction and their apparent delight left Anna wondering just what the hell was in store for her, biting down on her bottom lip and shutting her eyes, as if she could wish herself away from here. While Anna couldn’t see behind her, she could hear something being dragged out from the back, it sounded heavy and even though she could hear the squeak of wheels, it didn’t sound like it was moving easily, given the grunts and strains of the men bringing it out.
The lights in the court then dimmed. Anna found herself in low-level darkness, with only a single spotlight from the ceiling shining down on a spot behind her. Blinking in the darkness, her eyes just started to adjust when she was forcibly turned around to see what all the fuss was about…
In front of her now stood a large glass shower cubicle of some sort and, as she studied it, her mouth opened in an involuntary gasp. Suddenly, the full force of realisation hit her and she recognised what this was – it was something Mark had shown her once before – it was a gunge tank. She was about to be gunged, on television, in front of a fake courtroom of idiotic clods who found it all very amusing. Shock and confusion very quickly gave way to anger once more and she struggled, futilely, to escape from the grip of the two bailiffs. Behind her,the audience had hushed with the introduction of darkness and so the most prominent noise was that of Anna fighting against her captors.
“But-but,” she stammered, still angry, but now looking slightly more panicked, “But-what-my-” she still struggled and tried to pull away, “My boots!” she exclaimed, “They’re worth a fortune! I’ll sue for real if you ruin them!”
“Then take the damn things off,” replied Kenneth, his voice making no attempt to hide his exasperation. “It ain’t rocket science.” And with that, he knelt down, unfastened the zipper and stood back up, “Now you can slide ’em off and get in the tank.”
Anna snarled and kicked them off one at a time. She was still livid, but she wasn’t going to risk ruining one of the most expensive items of clothing she owned for the sake of this farce of a television show. That said, she still wasn’t getting in the tank though, struggling against the bailiffs and trying to pull her arms free. Her hair was a little dishevelled from the effort and her knuckles were white from clenching her hands into fists but, without her heels, she had far less grip and her nylon-clad feet just slid pathetically on the courtroom floor every time she tried to move. Anna was dragged inch by inch towards the tank, hoisted over the tray that formed its base (much like a shower cubicle) and given a fairly rough shove from behind as the bailiffs slammed the door shut, leaving Anna trapped inside the tank with only a small wooden stool for company.
“Fuck you!” she shouted, turning and snarling. “Fuck all of you, this is bullshit, I never signed up for this, I’ll sue! This is a breach of my human fucking rights!”
“Not if you consented to it,” said Kenneth as he folded his arms and looked Anna in the eye. “You agreed to come on here, you agreed to accept the judge’s decision and you also accepted that sometimes we do stuff that’s been done on television before. You’ve seen the show before, right?”
“Once or twice,” she replied, looking a little less angry and a little more concerned. Like a little girl that had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “But the defendant never won!”
Kenneth chuckled, “Well, damn. No wonder you’re being so ridiculous!”
Anna sulked, “Fuck you, you douchebag!”
“Nuh-uh,” replied Kenneth. “You’ve been acting like a spoiled bratty child with a foul mouth the whole time you’ve been here so maybe it’s time I said something.” He turned off his microphone, opened the tank door just a crack and continued. “That includes before we started filming too. You’ve pissed off pretty much everyone you’ve met today and we don’t know you or owe you a damn thing. If you go through life being a bitch and acting like the whole world owes you one, you’re never going to grow up and take charge of your own life, you’re just going to get bounced from one disaster to another when people tire of your shit and give you your marching orders. Boyfriends, bosses, friends, they don’t have to put up with your attitude and neither do I or this courtroom,so just sit yourself the fuck down, accept you lost and try to take it with a little good humour and grace.” He shook his head, not frustrated or angry now, but with the look of disappointment that a parent gives an ill-behaved child. “Maybe if you took a little more responsibility for your own failings instead of blaming everyone else, you’d get further in life, and this kind of thing wouldn’t happen to you. You clearly came here to try to embarrass Mark, by airing all of your dirty laundry in public, and you hoped to be well paid for your efforts. All you’ve really done is show the world what a horrible little girl you are and worst still, all this shit’s been recorded. It’ll go out on television, it’ll be up on YouTube and then everyone will know exactly what you’re like, so you’d better change and change fast, or you’re going to find life gets a whole lot worse for you.”
By now, Anna’s face had changed entirely. She looked even more like a scolded child, her eyes wide, but free from anger, and her hands dangling limply at her sides. She wasn’t crying, but her lower lip was having trouble staying still as she listened to Kenneth’s verbal destruction. By all accounts, it was sinking in, and she was certainly listening when Kenneth leaned in and spoke much more quietly, “You should be glad we only use first names on this show. Any time you go for a job interview, they’re going to search for your name online. Imagine if this was the first result they found…”
Anna swallowed hard, and, looking back over her shoulder, she slumped onto the stool, folding her arms in a still-petulant huff and then sneering at the bailiff. She hesitated for a moment and then slid her leather skirted ass back into the well of the seat and pulled her knees up, resting her feet on the cross-bar of the stool, curling her nylon-clad toes around it. At the same time, Mark was brought up to the side of the tank where there was a chain, much like an old-fashioned toilet flush, just waiting for him. He was grinning from ear to ear obviously not bothered by too much of what had gone on so far and clearly delighted by what was now being presented to him. He gave Anna a playful wave, to which the dark-haired girl responded predictably, by sticking up her middle finger and telling Mark to go fuck himself.
“In your own time, defendant,” said the judge as Mark looked up to him for approval.
“I reckon we need a good old-fashioned countdown, right?” asked Mark, turning to the audience and lifting his arms. “So, in three…”
The audience were quick to jump on board, shouting in unison as Mark turned back to the tank and took hold of the chain. “Two!”
Mark had tight hold on the chain with both hands, arms lifted, elbows bent, all set to firmly yank down on it. “One!” called the audience in a single voice, baying to see Anna suffer.
Inside the tank, the brunette’s eyes widened. “No! Wait!” she shouted, “Stop!”
Almost immediately, Mark sighed and loosened his grip on the chain. “What now?” he asked, his voice heavy with frustration.
Anna bit her lip and looked up at Mark, trying to look as innocent and doe-eyed as possible, “Couldn’t I just apologise? You know I mean it and you know how much I don’t want to be… gunged…” she added, with a shudder, “So please, reconsider, maybe give me a chance?”
Turning to face the judge, Mark looked up at him for guidance. “It’s your call,” replied the judge, “I have given my verdict.”
“Fine, fine,” he sighed, before shaking his head, still with one hand on the chain as he looked back over to Anna, “Go on, then,” he urged, “But make it good!”
She smiled and brushed her hair back off of her face, tucking it behind her ears to hold the thick, dark locks in place, before then shuffling to get comfortable on the seat, leaning back a little so as to press her nylon-clad soles to the front glass of the tank, while also tugging her top down just a little to emphasise her considerable cleavage. Anna glanced to Mark, then to her toes, to make sure he was aware she was presenting to him, and then fluttered her eyelashes.
“Than-” she said and was then immediately cut off by a stream of thick green and yellow gunge pouring straight down into her cleavage. Her top instantly ballooned out, swelling with the wet and lurid goop, which was now bubbling back up and out of her top too, such was the force of the downpour. Anna gave a shocked gasp, threw both hands over her cleavage to try to protect it from the gooey onslaught. “You shit!” she shouted, peering up at Mark as the gunge carried on streaming down over her. “You absolute piece of garbage shit!” she shouted again as Mark let go of the chain and stepped back to get a better view.
Despite Anna’s efforts, the gunge was still oozing down into her her top and over her breasts, causing it to swell further, sagging and tugging the material down with its weight. Her hands and forearms were coated in greenish goop as she tried to deflect the gunge away from her cleavage futilely, only for the deluge to bounce from her hands onto her chest and slide down, or to just ooze through her fingers, with only hints of crimson left on her nails as the bright green and yellow gunk spread out over her chest and shoulders. The weight of it was causing her top to sag further and from where he was stood, Mark could see what was coming next. His eyes widened and he gave Anna a quick, urgent wave to catch her attention, before pointing to his own chest. The girl’s eyes opened wide too and she quickly grabbed at the material of her red top, tugging it back up before she revealed a little too much. As she looked to Mark, she saw a genuine little smile – he might not have been reluctant about gunging her, but he clearly hadn’t wanted her to suffer anything too humiliating she thought, and shutting her eyes, she leaned ever so slightly forwards, pushing her head under the gooey deluge as she tugged her top up again with both hands and pressed it to her breasts, forcing the gunge to rise up out of the top, cascading down over the outside of the red material instead.
To the audience, it just looked like Anna had given in, taking the gunge to her cleavage, swearing, stomping her feet and then just leaning in to accept her fate. They didn’t quite notice how close she’d come to catastrophe, because of how quickly she moved her head under the deluge. What they did notice, however, was the long, drawn-out wail of disgust, accompanied by a shivering, shuddering gooey mass as Anna’s perfect black hair was coated in a layer of thick gunge. She shuffled forwards a little on the seat as the deluge began to slow down and flicked her head and hair back, splattering the back wall of the tank with gunk as she both hands back through her hair, scraping it from her face and tucking it back behind her ears, slicked with gunge and a mottled mass of black, green and yellow.
“I hate you, I hate you,” she continued to mutter, her nostrils still flared as she kept looking down at the floor where a puddle of gunge had formed that was soaking through her black tights to squelch between her toes and under the soles of her feet. Anna gave a bit of a growl as a bit more gunge dribbled down onto her forehead and nose, having managed to protect her face well enough so far, but as she brought her hands up to wipe it away, she end up smearing gunk from her palms onto her cheeks. She sighed loudly, making no effort to hide her frustration at what she’d just done, and then tried to wipe her hands on the side of her top, under her arms, where there was still some clean material. Once her hands were a bit less gungey, she wiped her face again and then stuck a finger in her left ear to scrape out some of the gunge that had wound up there. She looked over to Mark and shook her head, “You suck, Mark. You suck so much!”
Mark just shrugged and then strolled forwards, opening the tank door with a grin. “Then let’s all get a good look at you too, loser!” He stepped back to reveal Anna’s gunged body to the court and the cameras, “Since you did lose, right? So that makes you the loser.”
Anna was sat with her ankles crossed and her legs tucked slightly under her, some toes pressed to the floor supporting the rest of her nylon-clad legs. Her thighs were together, though the gunge was squelching between them, and her miniskirt was covered, too. The dark red top was soaked inside and out, and there was a clear sag where it was tucked into her skirt, showing that plenty of gunge was still gathered inside the material, pressed to the girl’s bare skin. Her chest was slathered in it and her arms and hands had a fair coating, too, though she had rubbed at her bare arms to try to scrape away the worst of it already. Anna’s face may not have been too mucky, but it certainly wasn’t happy either, judging by the scowl she was sporting. She may have appreciated Mark sparing her any more significant blushes, but she was obviously disgusted, humiliated and outraged by what had happened, and she mouthed the phrase “fuck you” directly into the camera before huffing and folding her arms, going back to looking every part the spoilt brat as Mark pushed the door shut to trap her inside.
Kenneth came back into the fold, patting Mark on the back and congratulating him on dishing out justice, commenting that, much like revenge, it was best served cold. He wrapped up the show, thanked everyone for watching and then let them roll credits as he shook hands with Mark again. The studio lights dimmed as the robotic judge danced along to the synth-electro-pop that was the show’s closing theme.
Anna was left sat in the tank for the duration, and for a good ten minutes longer as Mark went backstage with Kenneth and the judge, and the other bailiffs escorted the audience out, leaving the girl sat, alone, covered in slime. The longer she sat there, the colder she felt as the gunge oozed between layers of material and soaked through to her skin, leaving her to squirm uncomfortably as it found its way into various nooks and crannies where gunge shouldn’t go. By the time the crew came back with towels to help Anna out of the tank, she felt quite sorry for herself and was markedly quiet compared to how she had been all throughout the show. There was no audience to play to now, and she’d not only lost, but she’d been humiliated too, and now she just wanted to go home, curl up in bed and pretend it had all been a bad dream. In a week or two, the episode would be broadcast and she’d never live it down, that much she knew for sure… how much would it cost to get a ticket to Estonia or Lithuania or one of those other forgotten countries where she could just disappear forever? Anna hung her head low and walked alone down the corridor, squelching as she went, leaving small drops and puddles of gunge behind her, thoroughly regretting her choice to ever apply for this show, along with a few other life choices she’d made to get her here…