This blog will be dedicated to the #StopTheShock campaign and will include survivors’ stories and action points to help fight this decision and stop the torture of autistic people.
For a current list of action points, head over to the AuTeach website.PLEASE REBLOG and spread the word, even if you are not autistic, and follow this blog for updates.
Just to clear up some misconceptions I have seen elsewhere: This is not the same as electroconvulsive therapy (ECT). This is a device called a graduated electronic decelerator (GED) worn on the ankle which is used to administer remote electric shocks as a form of corporal punishment.
There is a group of people who are fighting a legal battle to be allowed to shock disabled children simply for displaying traits related to their disability. And they are winning.
This is a clear violation of human rights. Hell, we don’t even use shock collars on dogs because of its cruelty, yet these people want to use this on human beings.
Stop the shock!
I’m angry that we live in a world where I actually need to say this
OH COME FUCKING ON! JEEZ! SOMETIMES I WONDER IF PEOPLE ON THE SPECTRUM ARE EVEN CONSIDERED PEOPLE TO LAW PEOPLE! I mean look at Austism speaks! Their still legally running AND THEY KILLED A KID!
No, the students at the Judge Rotenberg Center are most certainly not considered people. They are considered subhuman because they are disabled and because the vast majority of them are children of colour. They are considered as nothing more than a list of “problematic” behaviours and I cannot emphasise enough that this is not unique to the JRC, although it is an extreme place even by ABA standards.
Six students have died at the JRC. Food deprivation, physical restraint and seclusion are all commonplace there, and indeed are written directly into students’ care plans.
I would strongly encourage you to seek out Jennifer Msumba’s interviews, she is a survivor of the JRC and I have linked some on this blog.
It is not a place that humans should be sent to. But they are.
This blog will be dedicated to the #StopTheShock campaign and will include survivors’ stories and action points to help fight this decision and stop the torture of autistic people.
For a current list of action points, head over to the AuTeach website.PLEASE REBLOG and spread the word, even if you are not autistic, and follow this blog for updates.
Just to clear up some misconceptions I have seen elsewhere: This is not the same as electroconvulsive therapy (ECT). This is a device called a graduated electronic decelerator (GED) worn on the ankle which is used to administer remote electric shocks as a form of corporal punishment.
There is a group of people who are fighting a legal battle to be allowed to shock disabled children simply for displaying traits related to their disability. And they are winning.
This is an image drawn by Jennifer Msumba, a patient at the Judge Rotenberg Centre. A literal child.
A child like Andre McCollins who was restrained on a 4 point board and shocked 31 times over seven hours. His supposed crimes that justified this abuse? Refusal to take his coat off. Then tensing up and screaming when he was shocked. He required hospitalisation for the 3rd degree burns on multiple body parts he received from the ordeal.
This is torture. The UN calls it torture. The only reason the ban is getting overturned is because of a loophole exploiting lawsuit from the Judge Rotenberg Centre. The GED was initially banned for use as a behaviour modification device. According to the lawsuit the FDA does not have the power to ban a device for a specific use so either has to ban the GED outright or let the JRC continue as they please.
Michael Israel, the founder of the JRC and inventor of the GED, has stated
“ [The GED] could be used everywhere… It could and should be used—not as a last resort, because it has no side effects. I think it should be used in the schools. Prisons have the problem that people see that as coercion. But if it works here, why shouldn’t it be used elsewhere? “
So not only does he not see disabled kids as human, he wants to torture them more globally for minor infractions so he can profit.
TheJudge Rotenberg Center is a special needs day and residential school located in Canton, Massachusetts which accepts ages 5 to adult.
They use behaviour modification to control their residents such as Applied Behaviour Analysis. But in some cases, they also use extreme and torturous forms of punishment such as prolonged restraint, food deprivation and electric shocks.
Theskin shock is not to be confused with ECT, which is done for very different reasons and also under anesthesia, so that the person doesn’t feel any pain.
No, Electric Skin Shock, also known as the Graduated Electronic Decelerator, is MEANT TO CAUSE SEVERE PAIN in order to punish undesired behaviours in actual children and adults.
This is Jennifer Msumba’s story of how she escaped the Judge Rotenberg Center. If you have 14 minutes to spare, please watch this video (or save it to come back to it when you have time).
She describes what her life was like at the JRC and what it felt like to be shocked by one of these devices. She was under court-appointed guardianship so her parents had no say in where she stayed or what therapy she underwent.
After her first escape attempt, she was secluded for two months and kept in restraints in a cold isolation room. Her home visits had already been taken away from her and if staff members heard her say anything negative about the JRC on the phone to her mom, the call would be terminated instantly.
This is what the #StopTheShock campaign is really about.
WARNINGS.fem!reader, dark content, restraints, torture, gagging, noncon, fingering (f!receiving), feitan keeps you prisoner and fucks you with his fingers
WORDCOUNT.1.450
NOTE.oop first feitan fic where are the feitan fuckers :o also there may or may not be a part two
THE FIRST TIME feitan porter puts his hands on you, there’s a rhythmic drip of leaky water that echoes through the room, deepening the emptiness in that rattles in your chest as you struggle to breathe. your wrists are bound by cold metal cuffs attached to chains embedded in the stone wall behind you— cuffs that jingle and screech the more you pull for freedom.
from across the room, feitan sits with one leg crossed over the other, and a cold, almost bored expression sits on his face as he watches you struggle against the restraints.
“they not break” he mumbles, though his voice sounds almost taunting behind the collar of his jacket.
logic tells you he’s right— that you stand no match for steel that’s practically cemented into the wall behind you, but instinct wont let you give in, at least until you’ve exhausted your mind, body and spirit to it’s very brink.
the more you struggle, refusing to acknowledge his existence in the room, the more feitan craves your pain. he watches the way sweat dribbles down your neck, and the way your body flinches and shivers every time he moves even half an inch. the power he holds over you is almost pathetic, and he can’t get enough.
“you never learn” he sighs again, standing up from the edge of the stone he had made himself comfortable on, pacing the room with an umbrella in hand as you watch and groan against the fabric gagging your mouth. “why not just be quiet? hmm?”
“There’s this love story between Spike and Dru that is very sweet,” she (Juliet) explains. “It gets kinky as well, but it’s sweet. That balances out the evil that we do.”
Balance isn’t a word that suits Drusilla at all. When we first see her in Buffy’s second season she is sickly and weak and Spike has brought her to Sunnydale with hopes of making ‘all better’. Juliet plays the part in flowing glowns and with roving eyes as she teases dead birds and ties up her dolls.
“There is an element of what I call ‘touched’. Angel was obsessed with her, you see, so he killed her family and tortured her ruthlessly driving her to a convent for refuse. On the night she was to take her vows, he made her into a vampire. Now she has a sort of neurosis where she thinks of the daisies dying or her hair falling out. Spike rescues her from those moments.”
He does indeed. As evil as the couple may be, viewers are drawn into the deep love they have for each other. It is this ‘human’ side that makes them watchable week after week. They dance, they kiss, they play and yes, they do snack on a teenager now and again, but you can’t hold that against them. “When Spike and Dru are together we’re sort of gentle and sexual and it’s fun. Sometimes when you play a villain it’s very one-dimensional but with Dru I have a lot of other colours as well.”
-Interview with Juliet Landau by Cythia Boris, for Cult Times, circa1998ish.
“Make it stop! Ple-please— I’ll tell you what you want to know! Just— sto-stop!”
Whumper removed the iron from Whumpee’s flesh. “Who’s the rat.”
“I-I told you— there isn’t one!”
“I said, who’s the rat. Do you want me to start again?” Whumper threatened, bringing the iron close to Whumpee’s arm again.
“No! No— it’s C… It’s Caretaker— They’re the one who’s giving us info-information.”
Whumper smirked, setting the iron back in the fire. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Next question. Where is Caretaker meeting with the heroes?”
When Whumpee hesitated, Whumper snatched the iron back out of the fire.
“No— please— Th-they’ve been meeting under the crossbridge!”
“When is the next meeting scheduled?”
“To-tonight— At sundown…”
“How many people are they meeting?”
“J-just one.”
“And their name?”
“…”
“Their name.”
“L-leader.”
“If I find out any of this information is incorrect, you’ll wish I’d gotten the iron back out.”
Whumpee shivered as Whumper stuck the iron back in the fire and left the room. Whumpee was left chained to the wall, shaking from pain, exhaustion, and fear.
Until the door opened.
Caretaker gasped in pain as their knees slammed into the floor.
“Spend your time wisely. This is the last you’ll be seeing any friends.” Whumper spat as they slammed the door closed again. The lock turned, and then there was silence.
And darkness.
A shaky breath cut through the silence and then the scrape of shoes against the floor as Caretaker stood.
“Whumpee..? Did I see you before the door closed..?”
There was a crash as Caretaker ran into something in the dark.
“B-but I ratted you out— th-this… it’s my fault… I-if I had been… if I had been stronger…”
“Don’t.” Caretaker reached the wall and started feeling their way towards Whumpee. “This isn’t your fault. I saw what they did to you— No one would’ve lasted very long.”
Whumpee gasped as Caretaker brushed against one of their burns.
“Sorry!” Caretaker pulled back immediately. “Listen, what all did you tell them..?”
“Le… Leader is in danger…” Whumpee whispered. “I-I told them they were meeting you tonight at the crossbrige…”
Caretaker took a measured breath. “… It’ll be fine. Leader is strong. And smart. Whumper won’t be able to hurt them.”
“This is all my fault… Caretaker, I’m so sorry…”
—
The pair sat in silence for a long time. Then, finally, the door opened again.
“Lucky you, Whumpee. You made the right choice. No lies.” Whumper entered the room and shot Caretaker with a taser before they could react. “Shouldn’t have thrown them in here unrestrained, but I was honestly kind of hoping they’d kill you for your betrayal. Anyway…” Whumper sighed. “Now I have to figure something else to do with you. I don’t need you anymore— I have Caretaker now. But I can’t let you go either.”
Whumper unchained Whumpee and dragged them out of the room. Whumpee was hardly able to resist.
At the end of a long hallway, Whumper threw open a door.
“Do what you want with them. They’re useless to me now.” And Whumper dropped Whumpee at the feet of their underlings.
Continued from here(@appleejuice, I was already halfway done with this when you sent your request)
CW: Electric shocks, torture, blood, hanging from wrists, needles (brief), stabbing mention & aftermath of stabbing, borderline gaslighting
“Whumper!” Henchman stood. “Y-you look happy— things must have gone well?”
“Very.” Whumper grinned, looking down at Leader, unconscious and strapped down. “Wake them up.”
Henchman injected Leader with a syringe of adrenaline.
Leader gasped, eyes snapping open.
“Thank you, Henchman. You are dismissed. Go see if Medic needs help with Caretaker. Stabbing someone 23 times is fun, but it’s difficult for the victim to come back from.” Whumper waved a bloody hand at Leader.
“Where… where am I?” Leader flinched as they tried to move and met resistance. “Who are you? Did you say something about Caretaker? Stabbed? Did you— did you say you stabbed Caretaker?” Leader’s tone grew more panicked as they went.
“23 times to be exact. Don’t worry— I still have fun in store for you as well.” Whumper picked up a short metal pole.
“What is that??”
“Just answer my questions and you won’t have to find out.”
“Whoare you? What the hell is happening— somebody just tell me what the hell is going on!”
“My name is Whumper. This is an interrogation. Why were you meeting with Caretaker last night?”
Leader froze, desperately trying to recall the memories leading up to this point. They were meeting Caretaker. They— something went wrong.
“My last interrogation went well, so I’m feeling particularly generous. That said, I’ll warn you. If you don’t answer me quickly enough, there will be repercussions.” Whumper twirled the metal pole in their hand. “Why were you meeting with Caretaker last night?”
Leader made up their mind quickly. “You’ll have to do more than threaten me with a metal stick to get me to talk.” They set their expression. “You’re all empty threats.”
Whumper laughed— a shrill, haunting laugh that echoed off the walls, making Leader shiver. “You want to see the full effect of my threats?” Whumper jabbed Leader in the side with the metal pole.
In a moment, Leader felt their muscles spasm as the world flashed red with pain. The metal pole was a cattle prod type device designed to deliver electric shocks.
When the shocks stopped, Leader tried to evaluate how bad it had really been. It had hurt like hell, but were they actually injured? They still seemed able to move just fine. It didn’t really matter either way in the end.
“Whatever you do to me won’t be enough.” There was a reason they held the rank of leader within the organization. “I won’t break. Never have, never will.”
“Aw, how disappointing.” Whumper pouted. “I guess I’ll just have to take my time and enjoy ending your pathetic life.”
—
Caretaker opened their eyes slowly, wincing at the pain seeping through their limbs. Suddenly, their mind snapped to alertness and they sat up, stifling a scream as they felt the pain intensify.
No one was around them.
Quickly, they swung their legs out of the bed they were on and stood up, closing their eyes and leaning on the bedrail for support. When they had adjusted to the pain and got their balance, they opened their eyes and ripped out their IVs. Every step was torture, but they were driven on by fear.
“Caretaker!” Whumper stopped them in the hallway. “You’re up!”
Caretaker tried to ignore the blood staining Whumper’s hands and clothes. “Where’s Whumpee?” They whispered hoarsely.
“Whumpee?”
“Yes. You promised you would help them if I agreed to your terms.”
“Mmm… no. I actually promised to let you help them if you agreed to my terms. Your memory may be fuzzy. You had lost a lot of blood by that point.” Whumper shrugged.
“Whatever.” Caretaker squeezed their eyes shut and let their head fall a bit. “Just tell me where they are.”
“Down the hall.” Whumper pointed to the left. “At least that’s my best guess. As I said, I don’t really care about them anymore. Probably behind the second door on the right.”
Caretaker began their stumble down the hall.
“Oh and Caretaker!” Whumper called. “If you find them, you can use whatever is in the med wing to try and save them. I don’t really care.”
Caretaker pushed the door open a few minutes later. The room was almost completely empty except for a person hanging from their wrists in the center of the room, spinning slowly in the dark.
Caretaker flipped the light switch and the person flinched a little. It was, in fact, Whumpee.
