Ah, she's gone, Carrie thought hopefully with a relieved sigh. Maybe that's it. Maybe all Warden
Blaskowitz wanted me for was to talk to me and tell me the rules of the prison, and now that she's
given me that talk they'll let me go back to my cell. Carrie waited for a guard to appear. After a
few moments the interrogation cell door opened. Officer Fuckhead stood in the doorway.
“I can go back to my cell with the other prisoners now, right?” Carrie asked the guard.
“DID I SAY YOU COULD SPEAK, YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT???” Officer Fuckhead
shouted starkly at Carrie. “SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH AND FOLLOW ME!!!”
Officer Fuckhead's voice was like a blunt weapon. His ice cold outburst stunned Carrie. Officer
Fuckhead had yelled so loud Carrie had felt the sound waves of his thunderous voice move through
the entire frame of her body. She was severely shaken.
After being brutally punched in the face by Officer Fuckhead's explosively abusive verbal assault,
Carrie was taken on an exclusive tour of a section of the prison she'd hadn't yet seen. Carrie was
taken to the Experiment Division X-74 dungeon.
Officer Fuckhead threw Carrie into an elevator for a deep, fast descent downwards into the bowels
of the Experiment Division X-74 prison institution. When the elevator came to a stop the doors slid
open and Carrie saw a secluded subterranean subsection of the prison facility constructed far below
the surface of Mars. The first thing that hit Carrie when the elevator doors opened was the sour
stench of sulfur burning her nostrils. The hot, muggy air had a terrible sulfur stink to it.
Carrie looked around as Officer Fuckhead led the terrorized prison inmate down passageways that
had been dug out of the depths of Mars. This segregated underground subsection of the prison was
comprised of concrete corridors that emitted an orange-reddish glow in the electric lighting. There
wasn't much to this subsurface area really. It was a concrete subterranean stronghold that
resembled the dry, desiccated tunnels of an ancient Egyptian pyramid. From another point of view
the subsurface area could have been described as Modern Medieval. It amazed Carrie that this
clandestine section of the prison even existed. It was like hiding a secret compartment by concealing
the secret compartment in yet another secret compartment. Being far away from the earth in its
own distant corner of the solar system, the Mars prison colony itself was already as isolated as any
government institution could ever be, and here was another hidden underground component secretly
embedded within the already totally concealed operation.
Carrie soon learned that there was considerably more to this secluded subterranean installation than
just concrete corridors and dusty tunnels. The excavated underground passageways transformed
into a futuristic scientific research facility. Officer Fuckhead led Carrie through a security door into
a brightly lit corridor that looked to Carrie like a hallway in a modern hospital ward.
Carrie had entered the Experiment Division X-74 subterranean laboratory wing. Having reached the
prison's underground laboratory wing, Officer Fuckhead surrendered Carrie to two men who were
cloaked in all-white medical uniforms. These two men were assistants who worked in the
laboratory wing as part of the Experiment Division X-74 medical lab research team.
“Here's the prisoner you requisitioned -- Carrie Hunnicutt,” Officer Fuckhead said. Officer
Fuckhead then turned and left, leaving Carrie alone with the two medical lab assistants.
Carrie was silent as the two medical lab assistants walked the scared prison inmate through a series
of blindingly bright corridors and through a succession of protective security doors in the
subterranean laboratory wing. Carrie and the two medical lab assistant escorts eventually arrived at
a cell that the prisoner was shoved into.
“Take your clothes off,” one of the medical lab assistants instructed Carrie.
As ordered, Carrie removed the skimpy red prison miniskirt she'd been issued when she'd arrived at
Experiment Division X-74. Once Carrie was completely naked the pair of medical lab assistants
remanded her to another isolated holding cell.
After sitting nude and all alone in the second holding cell for about an hour, the two white-clad male
medical lab assistants opened the security door and they slid a hospital gurney into the cell. Carrie
was told to lie down on the hospital gurney, which she did. The medical lab assistants then strapped
the stark-naked prison convict tightly onto the hospital gurney with belts and they pushed the gurney
with Carrie buckled to it through the cell door. Carrie was wheeled down a hallway and through a
series of doors and then she was pushed down a corridor towards a doorway that had the words
Surgical Theater No. 1 written onto it in big red letters. The hospital gurney Carrie was strapped
onto burst through this final doorway into a bright, bustling operating room.
The scene inside Surgical Theater No. 1 was inexplicably bizarre. A lively celebration was taking
place inside the operating room. Surgical Theater No. 1 was alive with joyous elation. The
operating room hummed with vibrant, ecstatic activity. It was party time for all in attendance.
Surgical Theater No. 1 was loaded with crowds of overzealous doctors and eager nurses and
impatient perverts waiting for their forbidden torture and gore show to begin.
Carrie could see that she wasn't the only victim designated to be experimented on today in Surgical
Theater No. 1. There was another hospital gurney in the operating room and someone was secured
to that gurney as well. The other hospital gurney had an unclothed woman bound to it just like
Carrie was bound unclothed to the hospital stretcher she was strapped onto. Carrie's hospital gurney
was wheeled up alongside the other gurney so the two stretchers were side by side in the operating
theater. Carrie turned her head to take a look at the other naked prison inmate tied to the hospital
gurney beside her.
Oh my God! Carrie saw that the person on the other stretcher was Bobbi!
Bobbi had been selected for an experimental research procedure today too. After Carrie had told
Warden Blaskowitz that it was her cell-mate Bobbi who had revealed the head warden's derogatory
nickname to her, the head warden had requisitioned Bobbi to be a medical lab experiment test
subject as punishment for her indiscretion. How could Warden Blaskowitz be so cruel? Carrie
wondered.
Carrie looked at her friend's ugly face. Bobbi just laid there on the hospital gurney, nude like Carrie,
not moving except for the light pumping up and down of her bare chest as she breathed. Bobbi's
unseeing eyeballs were rolled upwards in her head and they looked to Carrie like two milky-white
orbs on Bobbi's unattractive face. Bobbi looked like she was smacked out of her mind on dope.
God, that Blaskowitz is such a total bitch, Carrie thought despairingly.
Two female nurses came over to Carrie. The nurses' names were Nurse Kristine and Nurse Diana
and they stood on either side of Carrie. Standing to Carrie's left, Nurse Kristine held a hypodermic
syringe the size of a knitting needle in her hand and she stabbed a big purple vein on the inside of
Carrie's left arm with the needle of the huge syringe.
“No,” Carrie gasped, struggling under the straps that were holding her down.
“Don't move,” Nurse Kristine said. The nurse squeezed down on the hypodermic syringe's plunger
with her thumb and she shot Carrie's bloodstream up with a special anesthetic.
Standing on Carrie's right side, Nurse Diana looked down at the helpless buck-naked prisoner to say
something to her.
“Hold still,” Nurse Diana said coldly to Carrie. Nurse Diana held a black rubber mouthpiece in her
hand for administering anesthesia gas. “Take a deep breath from this and count backwards from a
hundred,” Nurse Diana said.
“GET AWAY FROM ME YOU SICK FUCKIN' CUNT!!!” Carrie screamed.
“Hold her still!” Nurse Diana shouted at someone behind her.
Carrie felt two male hands clasp onto her skull to hold her head still. Nurse Diana fastened the
rubber mouthpiece over Carrie's mouth and in her panic Carrie breathed in a big gasp of the
anesthetic gas filling her lungs entirely up with the vapor. Nurse Diana removed the rubber
mouthpiece from Carrie's face and the male hands holding Carrie's skull still let go. Carrie tried to
scream, she tried to yell. Yet no sound came out Carrie's mouth.
Dear God, they've paralyzed my mouth, Carrie realized. I can't speak.
These were no ordinary anesthetics the medical lab nurses had given Carrie. Carrie had been
rendered completely mute by the injection she'd been shot up with and by the gas the nurses had
forced her to breathe in. Carrie couldn't move her mouth or her tongue or her lips. And it wasn't
only Carrie's mouth that was immobilized by the drugs she'd been pumped up with. Carrie found
that she couldn't move the rest of her undressed body either. Carrie's entire naked form had been
rendered utterly paralyzed by the special drugs she'd had forced on her. Panicked, Carrie tried to
move her hands and her feet and her legs. None of Carrie's limbs or extremities would move. It
was like she'd had a stroke or was in a coma or was unconscious or something.
But there was one body function that still remained in Carrie's autonomous control. Carrie was still
awake in the paralysis and she could still move her eyes. And with her wide-open eyes blinking
desperately, Carrie looked around the operating room and she was able to see everything that was
going on.
A feverish commotion was taking place in the crowded operating theater. Carrie could see mobs
and mobs of medical research personnel in the operating room, physicians and nurses, all eagerly
surrounding her, busily swarming her, enthusiastically staring at her, attentively investigating her,
diligently assessing her, fussily evaluating her, industriously gauging her.
And in addition to the medical research team, there was also a throng of prison officials in
attendance in Surgical Theater No. 1 waiting for the forthcoming surgical operation on Carrie to get
under way, including Officer Zombie and Officer Fuckhead. The prison officials were all drunk and
stoned. They were all wasted. Their speech was slurred and their faces were flushed red. The
prison officials in attendance in the operating room were all blitzed out of their skulls on booze and
narcotics.
And she was there too! The Bloodthirsty Bitch of the Big Dipper! Warden Marie Louise
Blaskowitz herself was in attendance in the operating theater as well. Carrie cringed internally.
Warden Blaskowitz stood right there with Officer Zombie and Officer Fuckhead getting ready to
watch the looming Experiment Division X-74 experimental procedure that was about to take place
on Carrie Hunnicutt. The Bloodthirsty Bitch had a martini glass in her hand and she was beaming
proudly.
“Welcome to your worst nightmare, Carrie,” Warden Blaskowitz said to the restrained prison inmate.
The Surgical Theater No. 1 Carrie Hunnicutt operation bash had the festive electricity of an
administrative function. The grisly gathering had the cheerful energy of an office cocktail party; it
had the celebratory buzz of a formal do. The morbid midday affair was like a special get-together
attended by a large group of chummy colleagues enjoying a lively shindig. The attendees at the
Surgical Theater No. 1 operating room party were all laughing and joking and having the time of
their lives.
A dingbat nurse was pushing a medical trolley in a continuous counterclockwise circle around the
two hospital gurneys that Carrie and Bobbi were strapped to in the middle of the operating room. A
cocktail waiter dressed in a tuxedo walked throughout the operating room offering alcoholic drinks
and tasty finger foods off of a tray to the prison officials attending the macabre gala. And as well,
several prison officials were sharing a rubber mouthpiece amongst themselves from which they were
filling their lungs with hits of a light anesthetic from a medical apparatus. The surreal scene had the
appearance to Carrie of a nightmarishly perverted social event in hell.
As well as her eyes which were darting about wildly surveying everything in the surgical theater,
Carrie still had the full use of her ears. Carrie could still hear all of the audio in the operating room
perfectly. Carrie had no choice but to hear every sound -- spoken and otherwise -- that occurred in
Surgical Theater No. 1. Carrie could hear the sounds of people's footsteps walking around her on
the operating room floor. Carrie could hear the sounds of metal surgical instruments clinking noisily
as they were being sterilized and placed into trays for imminent use. Carrie could hear the sounds of
the wheels of that medical trolley a bimbo nurse was wheeling around her and Bobbi's hospital
gurneys for no apparent reason. Carrie could hear the sounds of medical machines whirring
stubbornly, the sounds of medical pumps chugging obstinately and the sounds of medical devices
buzzing inflexibly. And most horribly, Carrie was compelled to hear the crude chatter of all the Pan-
Eurasian Axis prison personnel in the operating room.
Carrie heard the sleazy small-talk babble of the nurses and she heard the slimy light conversation of
the doctors and she heard the pitiless, cold-hearted laughter of Warden Blaskowitz and her
subordinate prison officials. Carrie couldn't stand it. She couldn't bear any of it. The dreadful
noise was way too much for Carrie to endure. Oh how Carrie so wished she could shut it all out
and die.
“She's the freshest we've got at the moment,” Warden Blaskowitz said to Dr. Kurt Vanderhorn, the
chief research surgeon at the Experiment Division X-74 prison facility.
“She'll do,” Dr. Vanderhorn said with some annoyance in his voice. “Are there more girls coming in
soon? It's very hard for me to maintain the prescribed schedule without a steady inflow of new test
subjects.”
“Your appetite for my young girls is positively insatiable, Doctor,” Warden Blaskowitz replied with a
smile.
“My instructions are very clear,” Dr. Vanderhorn said. “I'm dependent on the fresh meat that you
supply me with. Without your fresh meat I can't function. I've got to keep busy with my research
trials, I've got to keep churning out data, it's what I'm paid to do. If I don't have your fresh test
subjects to experiment on it would look like I'm not doing my job and that could put the funding for
this project in jeopardy. When can I expect more deliveries?”
“The day the women of earth cease to give birth to girls who grow up to commit heinous crimes will
not ever arrive,” Warden Blaskowitz said to Dr. Vanderhorn. “So unless the human race gets wiped
out by a worldwide catastrophe, you can be assured that your supply of fresh female felons will
never be cut off.”
Dr. Vanderhorn responded with what sounded like a little grunt. Warden Blaskowitz focused her
attention on Carrie Hunnicutt who was lying frozen and nude on the hospital gurney. Warden
Blaskowitz scrutinized Carrie's beautiful face in particular.
“My, doesn't she have a pretty face,” Warden Blaskowitz uttered as she savored Carrie's full nose,
her luscious lips, her distinct eyes. “So hot, so fine,” the head warden said.
“So true,” Dr. Vanderhorn concurred.
Warden Blaskowitz reached out with her right hand and she felt Carrie's irresistibly gorgeous face.
The head warden placed her thumb between Carrie's limp lips and her small teeth and the head
warden pushed her thumb into Carrie's moist, mute mouth. Oh my, Warden Blaskowitz said to
herself. Warden Blaskowitz practically had an orgasm right then and there with her thumb inside
Carrie's wet oral opening. The head warden took her thumb out from Carrie's mouth and she ran
her fingers down Carrie's soft neck and she felt the trunk of Carrie's stark-naked body. Warden
Blaskowitz caressed Carrie's supple, exposed breasts, circling the pink nipples of Carrie's bare boobs
with her long index finger, and then she dragged her fingers along Carrie's unclothed torso.
“Such tender skin,” Warden Blaskowitz said. “And look at those eyes. Those eyes are the eyes of
a terrified lost soul. This poor little convict girl is scared to death.”
Carrie's quivering eyes were unable to conceal her raw emotion. Carrie stared at Warden
Blaskowitz with frightened eyes that revealed the prisoner's undisguised fear explicitly for all in the
surgical theater to see. Carrie's eyes darted back and forth like the petrified eyes of a wild bird
captured and held captive in someone's hands. Carrie took everything around her in -- the doctors,
the nurses, the drunk prison officials, the head warden -- wondering what was going to happen to
her next. Carrie realized that whatever it was that she was in for, it probably wasn't going to be very
pleasant.
This must be how these degenerates do surgeries in this goddamned hellhole, Carrie said to herself
as she looked around the operating room. This place is no prison, it's a death camp. It's a fuckin'
death camp. Instead of knocking you out to operate on you, the sadistic doctors here keep you
awake during the surgery so you have to watch them mutilate you for their experiments. Why don't
they just shoot me and get it all over with, Carrie said to herself despondently. God save me, Carrie
thought as she stared straight up at the operating room ceiling. Oh God, please save me.
The unholy congregation in the surgical theater all gawked at Carrie's sweet, terrified face. The
unadulterated fear Carrie displayed through her eyes amused them considerably. The doctors and
the nurses and the stoned prison officials and the head warden all looked at one another and they
burst out into hysterical laughter at the sight of Carrie's transparent fear.
“What crime did the little tramp commit?” Dr. Vanderhorn asked Warden Blaskowitz.
“Murder,” Warden Blaskowitz replied. “She killed her mother.”
“Her?” Dr. Vanderhorn asked skeptically.
“Yes,” Warden Blaskowitz answered.
“Hmm,” Dr. Vanderhorn said. The doctor and the head warden exchanged glances, acknowledging
their mutual hatred for criminals like Carrie and for all convicted criminals generally. Nodding his
head contemptuously, Dr. Vanderhorn said, “Let's go to work on her then, shall we?”
Led by Dr. Vanderhorn, the team of medical researchers quickly moved in on Carrie with razor-
sharp scalpels in their gloved hands and they began to open her up for the experimental procedure.
The researchers started cutting away at Carrie with their knives and soon the scalpels they held that
had shined like polished silver moments earlier in the blinding glare of the operating room lamps
were dripping wet with Carrie's warm, red blood.
And Carrie felt every cut, every incision, every invasive incursion into her beautiful, young,
uncovered flesh. Although she'd been rendered paralyzed by the anesthesia, Carrie could still feel
every agonizing ounce of the pain of being ripped open and torn apart. Carrie tried to scream.
Nothing came out of her throat. Carrie was completely mute. It was the stupefying agony of the
scalpel incisions breaching Carrie's skin and slicing into the nerve fibre-entwined meat of her raw
flesh that eventually knocked her out cold.
The last thing Carrie remembered seeing before all went black and she passed out from the trauma
of the excruciating pain was Warden Marie Louise Blaskowitz standing there watching intensely as
the experimental surgical procedure proceeded. The sight was horrifying. It was sickening. As she
stood there menacingly in the surgery room watching Carrie being operated on, the Bloodthirsty
Bitch of the Big Dipper looked to Carrie Hunnicutt like a sinister statue of pure, undiluted evil.
Warden Marie Louise Blaskowitz looked to Carrie like a monster that had climbed straight out of the
fiery depths of hell.
Blaskowitz wanted me for was to talk to me and tell me the rules of the prison, and now that she's
given me that talk they'll let me go back to my cell. Carrie waited for a guard to appear. After a
few moments the interrogation cell door opened. Officer Fuckhead stood in the doorway.
“I can go back to my cell with the other prisoners now, right?” Carrie asked the guard.
“DID I SAY YOU COULD SPEAK, YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT???” Officer Fuckhead
shouted starkly at Carrie. “SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH AND FOLLOW ME!!!”
Officer Fuckhead's voice was like a blunt weapon. His ice cold outburst stunned Carrie. Officer
Fuckhead had yelled so loud Carrie had felt the sound waves of his thunderous voice move through
the entire frame of her body. She was severely shaken.
After being brutally punched in the face by Officer Fuckhead's explosively abusive verbal assault,
Carrie was taken on an exclusive tour of a section of the prison she'd hadn't yet seen. Carrie was
taken to the Experiment Division X-74 dungeon.
Officer Fuckhead threw Carrie into an elevator for a deep, fast descent downwards into the bowels
of the Experiment Division X-74 prison institution. When the elevator came to a stop the doors slid
open and Carrie saw a secluded subterranean subsection of the prison facility constructed far below
the surface of Mars. The first thing that hit Carrie when the elevator doors opened was the sour
stench of sulfur burning her nostrils. The hot, muggy air had a terrible sulfur stink to it.
Carrie looked around as Officer Fuckhead led the terrorized prison inmate down passageways that
had been dug out of the depths of Mars. This segregated underground subsection of the prison was
comprised of concrete corridors that emitted an orange-reddish glow in the electric lighting. There
wasn't much to this subsurface area really. It was a concrete subterranean stronghold that
resembled the dry, desiccated tunnels of an ancient Egyptian pyramid. From another point of view
the subsurface area could have been described as Modern Medieval. It amazed Carrie that this
clandestine section of the prison even existed. It was like hiding a secret compartment by concealing
the secret compartment in yet another secret compartment. Being far away from the earth in its
own distant corner of the solar system, the Mars prison colony itself was already as isolated as any
government institution could ever be, and here was another hidden underground component secretly
embedded within the already totally concealed operation.
Carrie soon learned that there was considerably more to this secluded subterranean installation than
just concrete corridors and dusty tunnels. The excavated underground passageways transformed
into a futuristic scientific research facility. Officer Fuckhead led Carrie through a security door into
a brightly lit corridor that looked to Carrie like a hallway in a modern hospital ward.
Carrie had entered the Experiment Division X-74 subterranean laboratory wing. Having reached the
prison's underground laboratory wing, Officer Fuckhead surrendered Carrie to two men who were
cloaked in all-white medical uniforms. These two men were assistants who worked in the
laboratory wing as part of the Experiment Division X-74 medical lab research team.
“Here's the prisoner you requisitioned -- Carrie Hunnicutt,” Officer Fuckhead said. Officer
Fuckhead then turned and left, leaving Carrie alone with the two medical lab assistants.
Carrie was silent as the two medical lab assistants walked the scared prison inmate through a series
of blindingly bright corridors and through a succession of protective security doors in the
subterranean laboratory wing. Carrie and the two medical lab assistant escorts eventually arrived at
a cell that the prisoner was shoved into.
“Take your clothes off,” one of the medical lab assistants instructed Carrie.
As ordered, Carrie removed the skimpy red prison miniskirt she'd been issued when she'd arrived at
Experiment Division X-74. Once Carrie was completely naked the pair of medical lab assistants
remanded her to another isolated holding cell.
After sitting nude and all alone in the second holding cell for about an hour, the two white-clad male
medical lab assistants opened the security door and they slid a hospital gurney into the cell. Carrie
was told to lie down on the hospital gurney, which she did. The medical lab assistants then strapped
the stark-naked prison convict tightly onto the hospital gurney with belts and they pushed the gurney
with Carrie buckled to it through the cell door. Carrie was wheeled down a hallway and through a
series of doors and then she was pushed down a corridor towards a doorway that had the words
Surgical Theater No. 1 written onto it in big red letters. The hospital gurney Carrie was strapped
onto burst through this final doorway into a bright, bustling operating room.
The scene inside Surgical Theater No. 1 was inexplicably bizarre. A lively celebration was taking
place inside the operating room. Surgical Theater No. 1 was alive with joyous elation. The
operating room hummed with vibrant, ecstatic activity. It was party time for all in attendance.
Surgical Theater No. 1 was loaded with crowds of overzealous doctors and eager nurses and
impatient perverts waiting for their forbidden torture and gore show to begin.
Carrie could see that she wasn't the only victim designated to be experimented on today in Surgical
Theater No. 1. There was another hospital gurney in the operating room and someone was secured
to that gurney as well. The other hospital gurney had an unclothed woman bound to it just like
Carrie was bound unclothed to the hospital stretcher she was strapped onto. Carrie's hospital gurney
was wheeled up alongside the other gurney so the two stretchers were side by side in the operating
theater. Carrie turned her head to take a look at the other naked prison inmate tied to the hospital
gurney beside her.
Oh my God! Carrie saw that the person on the other stretcher was Bobbi!
Bobbi had been selected for an experimental research procedure today too. After Carrie had told
Warden Blaskowitz that it was her cell-mate Bobbi who had revealed the head warden's derogatory
nickname to her, the head warden had requisitioned Bobbi to be a medical lab experiment test
subject as punishment for her indiscretion. How could Warden Blaskowitz be so cruel? Carrie
wondered.
Carrie looked at her friend's ugly face. Bobbi just laid there on the hospital gurney, nude like Carrie,
not moving except for the light pumping up and down of her bare chest as she breathed. Bobbi's
unseeing eyeballs were rolled upwards in her head and they looked to Carrie like two milky-white
orbs on Bobbi's unattractive face. Bobbi looked like she was smacked out of her mind on dope.
God, that Blaskowitz is such a total bitch, Carrie thought despairingly.
Two female nurses came over to Carrie. The nurses' names were Nurse Kristine and Nurse Diana
and they stood on either side of Carrie. Standing to Carrie's left, Nurse Kristine held a hypodermic
syringe the size of a knitting needle in her hand and she stabbed a big purple vein on the inside of
Carrie's left arm with the needle of the huge syringe.
“No,” Carrie gasped, struggling under the straps that were holding her down.
“Don't move,” Nurse Kristine said. The nurse squeezed down on the hypodermic syringe's plunger
with her thumb and she shot Carrie's bloodstream up with a special anesthetic.
Standing on Carrie's right side, Nurse Diana looked down at the helpless buck-naked prisoner to say
something to her.
“Hold still,” Nurse Diana said coldly to Carrie. Nurse Diana held a black rubber mouthpiece in her
hand for administering anesthesia gas. “Take a deep breath from this and count backwards from a
hundred,” Nurse Diana said.
“GET AWAY FROM ME YOU SICK FUCKIN' CUNT!!!” Carrie screamed.
“Hold her still!” Nurse Diana shouted at someone behind her.
Carrie felt two male hands clasp onto her skull to hold her head still. Nurse Diana fastened the
rubber mouthpiece over Carrie's mouth and in her panic Carrie breathed in a big gasp of the
anesthetic gas filling her lungs entirely up with the vapor. Nurse Diana removed the rubber
mouthpiece from Carrie's face and the male hands holding Carrie's skull still let go. Carrie tried to
scream, she tried to yell. Yet no sound came out Carrie's mouth.
Dear God, they've paralyzed my mouth, Carrie realized. I can't speak.
These were no ordinary anesthetics the medical lab nurses had given Carrie. Carrie had been
rendered completely mute by the injection she'd been shot up with and by the gas the nurses had
forced her to breathe in. Carrie couldn't move her mouth or her tongue or her lips. And it wasn't
only Carrie's mouth that was immobilized by the drugs she'd been pumped up with. Carrie found
that she couldn't move the rest of her undressed body either. Carrie's entire naked form had been
rendered utterly paralyzed by the special drugs she'd had forced on her. Panicked, Carrie tried to
move her hands and her feet and her legs. None of Carrie's limbs or extremities would move. It
was like she'd had a stroke or was in a coma or was unconscious or something.
But there was one body function that still remained in Carrie's autonomous control. Carrie was still
awake in the paralysis and she could still move her eyes. And with her wide-open eyes blinking
desperately, Carrie looked around the operating room and she was able to see everything that was
going on.
A feverish commotion was taking place in the crowded operating theater. Carrie could see mobs
and mobs of medical research personnel in the operating room, physicians and nurses, all eagerly
surrounding her, busily swarming her, enthusiastically staring at her, attentively investigating her,
diligently assessing her, fussily evaluating her, industriously gauging her.
And in addition to the medical research team, there was also a throng of prison officials in
attendance in Surgical Theater No. 1 waiting for the forthcoming surgical operation on Carrie to get
under way, including Officer Zombie and Officer Fuckhead. The prison officials were all drunk and
stoned. They were all wasted. Their speech was slurred and their faces were flushed red. The
prison officials in attendance in the operating room were all blitzed out of their skulls on booze and
narcotics.
And she was there too! The Bloodthirsty Bitch of the Big Dipper! Warden Marie Louise
Blaskowitz herself was in attendance in the operating theater as well. Carrie cringed internally.
Warden Blaskowitz stood right there with Officer Zombie and Officer Fuckhead getting ready to
watch the looming Experiment Division X-74 experimental procedure that was about to take place
on Carrie Hunnicutt. The Bloodthirsty Bitch had a martini glass in her hand and she was beaming
proudly.
“Welcome to your worst nightmare, Carrie,” Warden Blaskowitz said to the restrained prison inmate.
The Surgical Theater No. 1 Carrie Hunnicutt operation bash had the festive electricity of an
administrative function. The grisly gathering had the cheerful energy of an office cocktail party; it
had the celebratory buzz of a formal do. The morbid midday affair was like a special get-together
attended by a large group of chummy colleagues enjoying a lively shindig. The attendees at the
Surgical Theater No. 1 operating room party were all laughing and joking and having the time of
their lives.
A dingbat nurse was pushing a medical trolley in a continuous counterclockwise circle around the
two hospital gurneys that Carrie and Bobbi were strapped to in the middle of the operating room. A
cocktail waiter dressed in a tuxedo walked throughout the operating room offering alcoholic drinks
and tasty finger foods off of a tray to the prison officials attending the macabre gala. And as well,
several prison officials were sharing a rubber mouthpiece amongst themselves from which they were
filling their lungs with hits of a light anesthetic from a medical apparatus. The surreal scene had the
appearance to Carrie of a nightmarishly perverted social event in hell.
As well as her eyes which were darting about wildly surveying everything in the surgical theater,
Carrie still had the full use of her ears. Carrie could still hear all of the audio in the operating room
perfectly. Carrie had no choice but to hear every sound -- spoken and otherwise -- that occurred in
Surgical Theater No. 1. Carrie could hear the sounds of people's footsteps walking around her on
the operating room floor. Carrie could hear the sounds of metal surgical instruments clinking noisily
as they were being sterilized and placed into trays for imminent use. Carrie could hear the sounds of
the wheels of that medical trolley a bimbo nurse was wheeling around her and Bobbi's hospital
gurneys for no apparent reason. Carrie could hear the sounds of medical machines whirring
stubbornly, the sounds of medical pumps chugging obstinately and the sounds of medical devices
buzzing inflexibly. And most horribly, Carrie was compelled to hear the crude chatter of all the Pan-
Eurasian Axis prison personnel in the operating room.
Carrie heard the sleazy small-talk babble of the nurses and she heard the slimy light conversation of
the doctors and she heard the pitiless, cold-hearted laughter of Warden Blaskowitz and her
subordinate prison officials. Carrie couldn't stand it. She couldn't bear any of it. The dreadful
noise was way too much for Carrie to endure. Oh how Carrie so wished she could shut it all out
and die.
“She's the freshest we've got at the moment,” Warden Blaskowitz said to Dr. Kurt Vanderhorn, the
chief research surgeon at the Experiment Division X-74 prison facility.
“She'll do,” Dr. Vanderhorn said with some annoyance in his voice. “Are there more girls coming in
soon? It's very hard for me to maintain the prescribed schedule without a steady inflow of new test
subjects.”
“Your appetite for my young girls is positively insatiable, Doctor,” Warden Blaskowitz replied with a
smile.
“My instructions are very clear,” Dr. Vanderhorn said. “I'm dependent on the fresh meat that you
supply me with. Without your fresh meat I can't function. I've got to keep busy with my research
trials, I've got to keep churning out data, it's what I'm paid to do. If I don't have your fresh test
subjects to experiment on it would look like I'm not doing my job and that could put the funding for
this project in jeopardy. When can I expect more deliveries?”
“The day the women of earth cease to give birth to girls who grow up to commit heinous crimes will
not ever arrive,” Warden Blaskowitz said to Dr. Vanderhorn. “So unless the human race gets wiped
out by a worldwide catastrophe, you can be assured that your supply of fresh female felons will
never be cut off.”
Dr. Vanderhorn responded with what sounded like a little grunt. Warden Blaskowitz focused her
attention on Carrie Hunnicutt who was lying frozen and nude on the hospital gurney. Warden
Blaskowitz scrutinized Carrie's beautiful face in particular.
“My, doesn't she have a pretty face,” Warden Blaskowitz uttered as she savored Carrie's full nose,
her luscious lips, her distinct eyes. “So hot, so fine,” the head warden said.
“So true,” Dr. Vanderhorn concurred.
Warden Blaskowitz reached out with her right hand and she felt Carrie's irresistibly gorgeous face.
The head warden placed her thumb between Carrie's limp lips and her small teeth and the head
warden pushed her thumb into Carrie's moist, mute mouth. Oh my, Warden Blaskowitz said to
herself. Warden Blaskowitz practically had an orgasm right then and there with her thumb inside
Carrie's wet oral opening. The head warden took her thumb out from Carrie's mouth and she ran
her fingers down Carrie's soft neck and she felt the trunk of Carrie's stark-naked body. Warden
Blaskowitz caressed Carrie's supple, exposed breasts, circling the pink nipples of Carrie's bare boobs
with her long index finger, and then she dragged her fingers along Carrie's unclothed torso.
“Such tender skin,” Warden Blaskowitz said. “And look at those eyes. Those eyes are the eyes of
a terrified lost soul. This poor little convict girl is scared to death.”
Carrie's quivering eyes were unable to conceal her raw emotion. Carrie stared at Warden
Blaskowitz with frightened eyes that revealed the prisoner's undisguised fear explicitly for all in the
surgical theater to see. Carrie's eyes darted back and forth like the petrified eyes of a wild bird
captured and held captive in someone's hands. Carrie took everything around her in -- the doctors,
the nurses, the drunk prison officials, the head warden -- wondering what was going to happen to
her next. Carrie realized that whatever it was that she was in for, it probably wasn't going to be very
pleasant.
This must be how these degenerates do surgeries in this goddamned hellhole, Carrie said to herself
as she looked around the operating room. This place is no prison, it's a death camp. It's a fuckin'
death camp. Instead of knocking you out to operate on you, the sadistic doctors here keep you
awake during the surgery so you have to watch them mutilate you for their experiments. Why don't
they just shoot me and get it all over with, Carrie said to herself despondently. God save me, Carrie
thought as she stared straight up at the operating room ceiling. Oh God, please save me.
The unholy congregation in the surgical theater all gawked at Carrie's sweet, terrified face. The
unadulterated fear Carrie displayed through her eyes amused them considerably. The doctors and
the nurses and the stoned prison officials and the head warden all looked at one another and they
burst out into hysterical laughter at the sight of Carrie's transparent fear.
“What crime did the little tramp commit?” Dr. Vanderhorn asked Warden Blaskowitz.
“Murder,” Warden Blaskowitz replied. “She killed her mother.”
“Her?” Dr. Vanderhorn asked skeptically.
“Yes,” Warden Blaskowitz answered.
“Hmm,” Dr. Vanderhorn said. The doctor and the head warden exchanged glances, acknowledging
their mutual hatred for criminals like Carrie and for all convicted criminals generally. Nodding his
head contemptuously, Dr. Vanderhorn said, “Let's go to work on her then, shall we?”
Led by Dr. Vanderhorn, the team of medical researchers quickly moved in on Carrie with razor-
sharp scalpels in their gloved hands and they began to open her up for the experimental procedure.
The researchers started cutting away at Carrie with their knives and soon the scalpels they held that
had shined like polished silver moments earlier in the blinding glare of the operating room lamps
were dripping wet with Carrie's warm, red blood.
And Carrie felt every cut, every incision, every invasive incursion into her beautiful, young,
uncovered flesh. Although she'd been rendered paralyzed by the anesthesia, Carrie could still feel
every agonizing ounce of the pain of being ripped open and torn apart. Carrie tried to scream.
Nothing came out of her throat. Carrie was completely mute. It was the stupefying agony of the
scalpel incisions breaching Carrie's skin and slicing into the nerve fibre-entwined meat of her raw
flesh that eventually knocked her out cold.
The last thing Carrie remembered seeing before all went black and she passed out from the trauma
of the excruciating pain was Warden Marie Louise Blaskowitz standing there watching intensely as
the experimental surgical procedure proceeded. The sight was horrifying. It was sickening. As she
stood there menacingly in the surgery room watching Carrie being operated on, the Bloodthirsty
Bitch of the Big Dipper looked to Carrie Hunnicutt like a sinister statue of pure, undiluted evil.
Warden Marie Louise Blaskowitz looked to Carrie like a monster that had climbed straight out of the
fiery depths of hell.
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