Institute of Corrections for Beautiful Girls
Chapter 1 - Sentence
The large, imposing courtroom was filled with a murmur of subdued conversations, which accumulated to a considerable noise due to sheer quantity of ongoing verbal exchanges. The interior of the room was arranged in formal brown and white palettes, which strongly set the tone for an atmosphere of judicial authority. Into these intimidating surroundings the ICBG officers led the proud, but somewhat overwhelmed Melissa. Her bodily restraints were somewhat loosened as she no longer wore the leg irons or a waist chain. Only the standard issue handcuffs remained snuggly on her wrists. There was something else though that caused the alluring prisoner much grief. The strict ICBG safety rules, aside from occasional exceptions, required prisoners to wear a high-security muzzle whenever they were allowed outside of the underground lockdown area.
The muzzle was a brutal device and it seemed even more so when applied to the face of a lithe, delicate and extremely beautiful girl such as Melissa. It consisted of a network
of thick leather straps strategically engulfing the girl's head with a wide, stiff, rectangular patch covering the mouth. It seemed that Melissa's face was somewhat elongated under the
muzzle and the perception was correct as the inner surface of the mouth piece protruded a thick, meaty, three inch long tube into the wearer's throat. Melissa was becoming used to ICBG's methods, yet even so she was shocked that she had to wear such an intrusive and humiliating device for her public court appearance. There were two leather straps extending from the mouth patch and circling her head horizontally, and another two emerging diagonally from the top, meeting between her eyebrows, and continuing as one piece over the top of her head into the fastening point at the occipital section. A further set of straps flowing downwards from the sides of the mouth patch and forming an attachment point for a circular strap closely hugging Melissa's neck completed the punitive contraption.
The diagonal straps extending from the top of the mouth piece were well within Melissa's field of vision and made it impossible for her to brush aside the feeling that the treatment she endured was more becoming of a wild animal then a fawned-over, elegant, and pampered upper-middle-class girl like her. She felt a lump forming in her throat and tears gathering up in the corners of her eyes; yet she was resolved not to fall apart.
Melissa wiggled her wrists in her handcuffs trying to get some movement that didn't follow the rigid paths enforced by her restraints. It brought her some relief and she found it gratifying to realize that she could reduce the stiffness in her joints by exercising the freedom allowed by her bonds. It felt like a breeze of fresh air after confinement to a tight, closed, humid room. She took in a few deep breaths through her nostrils as her mouth was effectively sealed by the vicious muzzle, and was able to regain some of her trademark composure.
Melissa listened to the proceedings with dignity and grace. She even found the moxie to cross her pretty legs and retained a very lady-like posture despite her humiliating circumstances. She kept her head proudly erect and the side of her muzzled face daringly displayed to the gawking, excited crowd. Even in these circumstances she was aware of her attractiveness. She wore a dark grey skirt that ended just above her knees and a light pink wool top with a turtle neck. The flowing curves of her feet were accentuated by a pair of high heel sandals. Melissa’s most trying times came when the saliva building up behind her muzzle could no longer be contained and started flowing down her chin. She timidly touched her representative with her handcuffed hands to gain his attention and pointed to her salivating mouth. The young man who was emphatic of her predicament, though of course hopelessly incompetent at his job, quickly understood and asked the bailiff for a tissue or a piece of cloth. A box of tissues was delivered to the defendant's table and Melissa's representative carefully wiped her mouth and chin area reaching as far as he could under the muzzle. This process had to be repeated a couple of times before she was ordered to stand up and the judge laid down the highly predictable verdict:
"Lady Melissa,
For your continuous displays of excessive female beauty, savvy, and intelligence, possession of natural 36DD breasts, and the intimidation and anxiety imposed, willingly
or not, upon the male gender, you are hereby sentenced to 2 years imprisonment in a maximum security ICBG unit. You are henceforth stripped of your female rights for the
duration, and it is the hope of this court that you emerge purified and servile from your penance.
This Court is adjourned!"
Melissa stood stoically after the verdict was read, reconciled to the fact that she would have to face challenging ordeals for all the fun-filled times afforded by her natural beauty. It didn't matter that she remained chaste and pure to this day. There were many men out there who felt slighted by the fact that she turned down their advances even if she didn't do it in favor of another man, but only for her private resolve. Deep inside though, she knew that her punishment was fair. She did feel disdain towards all those men that virtually, and often figuratively, begged for her attention. It was wrong, but she couldn't help it - and now she would pay the price.
The two ICBG officers who transported Melissa to the courthouse approached her again. One of them knelt down and placed leg irons on her ankles while the other inserted a metal pole between her back and her pulled back elbows. The officers then took hold of opposite ends of the pole and led the heavily restrained girl out the back door. The officers walked Melissa to a small holding cell. She was locked inside with all her restraints still on with the only relief being the metal pole pulled from between her back and arms. Melissa could do nothing but wait. There was a small bench in the holding cell that also served as a toilet with an opening in the middle. Thankfully Melissa did not feel an urgent need to relieve herself. She sat on the bench nervous, but also strangely excited about her future. She could not help but feel the erotic aspect of being a stunning beauty bound by chains; cold metal contrasting sharply against her hot young skin.
The trip to ICBG was uneventful. Melissa took in as much as she could of the outside world suddenly feeling extremely envious of all those plain looking, stressed-out people running around with their daily errands. They were free. They had human rights. They didn't have to wear chains. That suddenly felt like so much.
"Sentenced prisoner delivered for admittance." communicated one of the officer's transporting Melissa addressing his message to the reception desk staffer - Beatrice. She just happened to be a bombshell. A twenty-something, recent hire, pouty princess, borderline on qualifying for ICBG herself. In fact her colleagues frequently joked that if they got a chance, they would certainly show her a thing or two about respecting the "strong gender". As it was, she was able to act snooty to both the prisoners and the guards. It was supposed to be her responsibility to take off the prisoners' muzzle and ask a few questions about the inmate's mental state, however she felt disgusted at touching the contraption with all the sweat and saliva accumulated through hours of wear. She would either ask someone to do it for her, or ignore the procedure entirely and fill the questionnaire with typical responses. She decided to do the latter in Melissa's case.
"Stand here!" she told Melissa, pointing to the floor a couple of feet in front of her desk. There was a small stool there, but Beatrice kept the bound and muzzled prisoner standing for the next fifteen minutes while she plugged away at the keyboard of her computer. Once done with the paperwork she looked up, pointed to the stool, and said - "Sit!" Melissa, blushing with embarrassment moved herself in front of the stool and slowly lowered her behind onto it.
The stool was purposely low so that prisoners sitting on it felt increasingly humiliated. Melissa picked up her phone and called for the lockdown staff.
"Take this downstairs" - said Beatrice when the officers arrived. "Prisoner number is P5237, sentenced to two years". One of the officers took papers from Beatrice and then each guard grabbed one of Melissa's upper arms and led her down the hallway. They entered an industrial looking elevator. There was a window nearby and one of the officers pointed to it. "Take a look at the outside young lady, because you will not be allowed above ground during your first month of your stay here". Melissa took a quick solemn look at the outside world, then dropped her head down and shuffled her pretty, shackled feet into the elevator. The metal gate closed behind her with a loud clang. One of the guards pulled a lever and the elevator descended inevitably into the depths of ICBG...
End of Chapter 1
Chapter 2 - Initiation
The elevator came to a jerky stop after a short, but fairly swift descent. The guards led Melissa out and into a small room, which featured an enclosure on the left surrounded by reinforced glass, and within it - a manned guard desk. The room ended on the opposite side with a large, incredibly heavy looking steel door, which looked more like an entrance to a bank vault with only a small, square, metal glass plate at eye level allowing to peek inside. Melissa's guards briefly flashed their badges to the man at the desk. It was a silly formality since these two guards were mainly responsible for transferring prisoners into and out of the ICBG lockdown area. Protocol, however, was taken very seriously at the facility and even seemingly redundant activities were carried out to the fullest extent. The guard sitting behind a thick glass protective shield nodded his head and pressed a button on the desk. A series of heavy but crisp metallic sounds occurred in short succession accompanied by what sounded like little motors revving and doing their duty. The door opened automatically with surprising silence revealing that it was about a foot thick and attached to the wall by the means of mighty hinges.
The guards pushed their lovely prisoner through the gateway and walked into a much larger room in which Melissa's eyes were stricken by a strange contrast. The left side of the room, from her point of view, looked rugged and industrial with another steel door leading closer into a certainly dreary fate while at the other end cement floor gave way to a lush blue carpet reaching up to a wall finished with shiny granite tiles and white parget in between each slab. The guards mercifully led Melissa towards the friendly wall with double wooden doors adorned by floral carvings and door handles in the shapes of lizards. After scaling the inviting entrance, the threesome walked down a bright-lit corridor with numerous side corridors emerging occasionally on both sides and doorways appearing even more frequently. Some of the doors were open and Melissa took a few timid, but curious glances trying to make sense of her surroundings. She saw what looked like an ordinary day in an ordinary though luxurious corporate office. Employees, mostly young and attractive men and women, were sitting at their desks and tapping away on their keyboards or conversing on their phones. A couple of times someone passed through the corridor without as much as taking a glance at our trio, apparently pursuing some unrelated business matters. Finally the group, moving rather slowly due to Melissa's still getting acquainted with the shocking reality of having her ankles bound by leg irons, reached a door at the end of the corridor. The sign on the door read: "Director - ICBG unit 12".
One of the guards knocked on the door and a few seconds later, without an obvious sign that entry was permitted, opened the door and pulled Melissa behind him. The other guard retreated and disappeared from view. The director's room was another gloriously furnished piece of interior decoration. The room was brightly lit, with cleverly concealed sources of light and very peculiar screens on each wall, doing an excellent job of mimicking windows by projecting a coherent image of an elegant urban neighborhood. Without explicit knowledge of being underground, one might have been easily fooled. Melissa was led towards a large mahogany desk in the middle of the room. Behind the desk, reclining in an ergonomic chair sat a man whose regular facial features, short dark hair, and broad shoulders gave him an appearance of casual yet undeniable authority.
"Welcome, Melissa." - spoke the man in gentle, but firm manner, eyeing the chained prisoner as an expert car collector would look at a rare automobile, which he long sought to purchase yet can't reveal the extent of his desire for fear of being price gouged. "As you might have guessed, I am the director of this particular ICBG unit and I also happen to be the superintendent for a couple of other nearby locations. My name is Adam Desquires. You are now in the administrative section of our facility, which you will rarely get to visit during your stay here and the main purpose is to get you acquainted with some of the basic details that you will have to learn to know intimately. It will not make your life easy because ICBG is, after all, a very strict prison, but following the rules will make your transition easier and allow you to settle into a steady routine."
The director stopped to take a deeper breath and picked up a mug from his desk. There was a slight trace of vapor rising from the cup the smell of which betrayed a fine herbal essence. The aroma almost made Melissa's legs buckle under her because she realized that she was desperately thirsty and dry-throated from being muzzled for the past couple of hours. What made things worse was that immediately upon entering the room she felt a deep sense of shame of standing in front of this handsome man in humiliating chains, which she could not take off. Her cheeks grew pale interchangeably with beet-red displays of embarrassment. “This is horrible” –she thought – “I wish I could just disappear or jump two years into the future so I wouldn’t have to through with all this.”
The director, finely attuned and accustomed to the trying first moments of fresh prisoners, noticed her predicament and motioned at the guard: "Take off her muzzle please!" The guard stepped up and with few measured maneuvers unbuckled all of the straps and pulled the muzzle off of Melissa's face. The rubber insertable slid out of her mouth dragging a line of thickened saliva until it finally broke off. The guard cleaned up her mouth and chin with a tissue plucked from a box on the desk. Melissa was grateful to be able to close her mouth for a change and her immediate instinct was to utter: "Thank you very much."
The man looked at her calmly with a subdued smile and said:
"Here's where we can start your introduction to the rules of this place. You will be taken through a very quick transitional period during which your constitutional human rights will be systematically taken away. One of them is freedom of speech. You are not allowed to speak to any of the staff unless granted explicit permission. You are never to speak to other prisoners outside of specifically allotted times. If you need to speak to one of your overseers you may approach that person and stand at attention nearby, though no closer than two yards. Keep your posture erect, but your head down. You may or may not be acknowledged and allowed to speak - it is something that you will have to accept. The content of your speech, naturally, should be kept to the barest necessities. The only real exception around this tight speech restriction is reserved for situations of dire emergencies such as a health issue, fire, or any other significant danger. In such case you should obviously act to inform of the situation as soon as possible and to the best of your ability."
Melissa was still absorbing the harsh meaning behind the man's words when he continued in a somewhat warmer tone:
"I have no doubt that many aspects of your imprisonment will seem very extreme, intrusive or over the top. They are however, specifically designed to reform persons such as yourself; girls of great beauty whose easy glide through life has turned them from potentially very worthy human beings into manipulators and deceivers. You can be assured that the trying experiences you will face here at ICBG will be for yours as well as society's long term benefit. Do you have any questions for me? I can answer one or two if they are quick."
Melissa gathered her presence of mind and said timidly:
"I have so many questions, but now that you've told me all that, I'd rather not ask anything."
"That is a great attitude, Melissa" - replied the man - "I've looked through your files and you are obviously a young lady of great potential, which is one of the reasons why I took the time to introduce myself to you. That will be all for our little meeting here. Officer Burridge will now escort you to a nearby room for a very quick orientation session and after that you will be taken to the lockdown area. Good luck Melissa. I'll make sure to pay you an occasional visit to check how you're doing."
The guard, officer Burridge apparently, approached Melissa and much to her chagrin signaled her to open her mouth and accept the thick rubber shaft of the muzzle. He quickly buckled the straps tightly around her head and then led her out of the room. They only passed a couple of doors walking the corridor in the opposite direction before the officer turned to the right and opened the door labeled "Orientation and Assimilation Liaison". Melissa was led inside the room where several rows of chairs were facing towards the wall to the right. There was a small pulpit in front of the chairs and a projector attached below the ceiling was casting its rectangular light onto a whiteboard screen behind the pulpit. Just as Melissa was about to settle down into one of the empty chairs, another man poked his head into the room:
“There’s been a slight change of plans” - said the man to the guard. “We don’t have anyone available for orientation at the moment so go ahead and take her directly to lockdown.”
“Ok then, you heard the man. Let’s go.”
Melissa and the guard made their way out of the administrative section and proceeded this time to the heavy steel door. The guard punched in a code on a small console next to the door and a yellow light started blinking above the door. The guard opened the door showing some physical exertion in the process, pushed Melissa inside, followed her in and shut the door behind them with a loud bang.
End of Chapter 2
Chapter 3 – Lockdown
The first impression of the lockdown area was predictably imposing. Bare concrete walls, floors and ceilings, and lights behind metal crates placed high along the walls illuminated a medium sized room. There was a desk near the entrance and a beautiful ebony woman, looking maybe thirty-ish in age rose from her chair and walked around to meet Melissa and her guard. The guard pulled out papers from his pocket and gave them to the black lady. She took the paper and started typing on the keyboard of a desktop computer.
“Prisoner P5237” – said the woman – “ok, everything’s fine.”
She glanced at and motioned towards Melissa:
“Come over here, you just need to sign this and you can be on your way.”
Melissa shuffled towards the desk and awkwardly took a pen presented to her by the ebony beauty. She had to position herself immediately next to the desk because the waist chain did not allow to move her handcuffed hands more than a few inches away from her body. Melissa quickly signed the document at the designated place all the while fighting back the tears of shame building up in her eyes and swallowing with difficulty feeling like she had a big lump in her throat.
“Proceed to medical” – ordered the woman.
The guard once again took Melissa’s arm and led her towards the door behind the desk. The next room indeed had a distinct feel of a medical facility. There were tiles on the floor and halfway up the walls. There were several curtain divisors and some elaborate equipment scattered around the brightly-lit room. One detail, however, betrayed that it was not a civilian walk-in clinic; a steel cage or cell was mounted in the corner, left of the entrance. The guard led Melissa to the cage, opened its door and gently pushed the girl inside. He picked a plastic box from a stack near the cell door and followed Melissa inside.
“Here’s what’s going to happen” – said the guard. “I will take-off your chains and lock you in here. You will take off your clothes including your underwear and shoes and place them in this box. Then just sit on the bench and wait for the doctor to arrive. Unfortunately you didn’t go through the usual orientation so you may accidentally get yourself in trouble with some of the staff, but the main rule is to just stay calm, don’t make any sudden movements, don’t speak without permission and always do what you’re told. Understand?” Melissa managed a meekly “Yes.”
The guard began to undo Melissa’s restraints starting with the muzzle and then proceeding to free her from her leg irons, handcuffs and the waist chain. He took all of the restraints and locked the cell door. He left with all the chains except for the handcuffs, which he hung on a wall-mounted hook near the holding cell.
Melissa was alone for the first time in quite some time and at first felt disoriented and apathetic. Already these past few hours did something to her as she half-expected someone to tell her what to do or where to go. Then she realized she was ordered to strip. There was little choice in the matter and Melissa assured herself that she had to take off her clothes during doctor visits before. Still she felt that it would be different this time. The society at large had very little information about the conditions at ICBG. There was a fairly strong rumor though indicating that prisoners were routinely kept naked for their entire sentences. Melissa found that unfathomable and no one so far confirmed nor denied that rumor since she was sentenced and brought to the prison. It was one of the questions she wished she had asked the director, but she found herself tongue-tied and the opportunity was gone. Reluctantly she began to undress. She took off the top, then slipped off her tight fitting skirt and stepped out of it as it fell around her feet. She stopped now, looked around, took a deep breath and reach behind to undo her bra strap. Soon her wonderful large breasts were displayed to daylight in a sight that no straight male could pass by without a sudden jump in blood pressure. Then she slid her panties down her legs revealing a clean shaven mons with delicate folds of skin forming a regular slit that so many men tried to imagine in their fantasies yet only two of her former boyfriends had seen and admired in reality. Finally, she stepped out of her high heeled shoes and placed her dainty feet on the cold, tiled floor of the cell. After placing clothes in the provided box, Melissa tried to sit down on a metal bench within the cell, but at first contact her buttocks recoiled from the cold hard surface. She decided to remain standing for the time being and anxiously awaited the promised doctor.
Indeed, only a couple of minutes have passed before the doctor trundled in carrying a pad with some papers on it, which he was browsing as he walked. He was a young and friendly looking man with an intellectual’s face. Melissa instinctively covered her breasts with one arm and her pubic region with the other. The doctor walked up to the cage door and took handcuffs from the hook.
“Melissa, is it?” – asked the doctor and without waiting for a reply continued – “Let’s get you checked out. Stand over here with your back facing the door and put your hands behind you near the opening.”
The doctor was referring to a small rectangular inlet in the cell door and Melissa futilely tried to prevent exposing her nakedness as long as possible by walking up to the door still with her arms covering strategic points of her body. She turned around at the door and only then put her arms behind her back. The doctor placed the handcuffs on Melissa’s wrists and tightened them gently, but firmly. He produced a set of keys from his white coat’s pocket and opened the door. The doctor turned Melissa around and led her out of the cell and into the middle of the room. He stood in front of her. Melissa once again was close to breaking down and crying because of the overbearing shame. She could hardly bear the fact that she had to stand naked in front of this fully clothed, strange man. The handcuffs locked behind her back only added to this insult.
“I am going to perform a few simple checks and tests to create a baseline for your medical history. You will be brought back here every couple of months to monitor how you’re doing health-wise. Now let’s see.”
The doctor started going through the motions of checking her pulse, looking down her throat, testing her reflexes, motion range and stiffness of her limb joints and so on. The most uncomfortable moment came, predictably, when the doctor started probing Melissa’s genital region with his gloved hands. He had her seated on a medical chair and put her feet in stirrups where he affixed them with leather straps. He proceeded to open her pussy with a speculum and peered inside first just looking around, then probing with his fingers. Finally, the procedure was done and he released Melissa from the chair.
“Everything’s fine. I’ll call the guard and you can be on your way”
The doctor went over to the door and called out. Soon, the familiar guard appeared and once again took Melissa by the arm. He led her back into the ebony beauty’s desk where the woman handed him a paper printout.
“Here’s her cell assignment.” – said the woman.
“Thank you ma’am” – answered the guard and took Melissa towards another door.
They walked into a corridor that did in fact have rows of cell doors on each side, but they did not stop at any of them and proceeded towards another elevator instead.
“These cells are rarely used” – explained the guard – “they are just overflow cells in case there’s no room on lower levels. This is level “A” and you’ve been assigned to level C. It’s not the worst that could happen. With your beauty I surely thought they would put you on level D. That’s tough life indeed.”
They took the elevator two levels down and walked out to find another corridor lined with much narrowly spaced cell doors. They stopped in front of a cell labeled C37.
“Well young lady, this is your stop.”
The guard opened the cell’s sliding metal door and Melissa was ushered inside a room that looked like the inside of a grey empty box – it was similarly featureless. Melissa was startled at a loud sound of metal hitting against metal behind her. It turned out that besides the solid door, there was an inner door consisting of metal bars and the guard just slid it shut.
“Stand by the door with your back towards me” – ordered the guard. Melissa complied and backed up to the bars. The guard took a single handcuff attached to a chain at his belt and locked around the chain of Melissa’s handcuffs. He took them off the girl’s wrists, however when Melissa started to move away he said firmly:
“Stop. Turn around and come back to the door. Put your hands in front of you.”
Melissa did as she was told and soon her hands were chained together again, this time in front of her body.
“You mean I am supposed to wear handcuffs inside the cell?” – asked Melissa incredulously.
The guard did not respond. Instead he opened the door and motioned for her to step out. Melissa walked forward. The guard took her chin in his hand and moved it up a little bit. Then he took a measured swing and gave Melissa a modestly hard slap on the face. The girl was too astonished that she forgot to start crying as she stood in wide eyed bewilderment.
“The director told you that you’re not supposed to talk without permission. The punishment for talking out of order is usually a few hours of wearing a muzzle or sometimes worse. Since you’re new, I’ll give it a pass, but don’t count on it happening again.”
With that, the guard pushed Melissa back into the cell and locked both the steel bars as well as the solid door behind her. Melissa’s confinement has truly begun.
End of chapter 3
Chapter 4 – Caged
Confined to her cell, Melissa’s emotions flooded to the surface. She paced the length of the cell to the wall, then back towards the locked door. She grabbed the inner bars and futilely shook them as if that was going to bring her closer to freedom.
“I don’t believe this” – thought Melissa – “How can they just take my life away from me like this? Am I supposed to be a naked and chained animal for the next two years? And for what? I haven’t done anything wrong!”
Melissa’s internal monologue continued for a while in a similar tone of self-pity until finally she was able to take a deeper breath: “Ok” – she thought – “I need to think clearly for a second. So much has happened in a short amount of time and I just don’t have any information. I need to find out how to contact mom and dad. I didn’t see them in the courtroom. I wonder why? Maybe they just couldn’t bear to look. That’s probably for the better, but I want to see them as soon as possible. That’s another thing to find out – when can I have visitors? I sure hope they’ll give me something to do here. This cell is completely empty! I’ll go crazy of boredom in a few days if I’m kept here. They didn’t let me put my clothes back on and gave me nothing else to wear so I guess the rumor about this place was true!”
Melissa sat down on the cell’s bed and looked down to her hands. The handcuffs fit rather snuggly around her wrists and looked so surreal against the backdrop of her naked body. She raised her bound hands and moved her arms in opposite directions as much as the slack in the cuffs would allow. There was no reason for her to be chained inside the cell since there was clearly no way of escaping so the purpose of the handcuffs must have been psychological. They were a constant reminder to the fact that in the eyes of society she couldn’t be trusted with having her movements unrestrained. As if she was going to attack anyone! A lithe and delicate girl like her who has never even been in a fight.
There was no clock in the cell so Melissa had no sense of the passage of time. The cell, being underground, obviously did not have any windows and the only light, built into the ceiling, gave off an unchanging glow. Melissa looked around, but she could not find any switch to operate the light. It seemed that such liberty was not afforded to ICBG prisoners. The sparse amenities inside the cell comprised of a metal bed or cot in one corner, a small toilet in another, and a tiny table with two stools around it. Melissa began to understand that her life was now utterly outside of her control. She would be told when to eat, sleep, work, and who knows what else. Her cheek was still stinging from the slap administered by the guard. It was unfathomable. Throughout her short adult life, men were always exceedingly polite to her, intimidated by her beauty, flattering and agreeable almost to a fault while trying to gain her favors; and now this. Obviously the rules of society, as she knew them, did not apply in this place. She was at the mercy of her jailers and who knows to what lengths they would go to ensure that she is “reformed”. Was there even a limit to their authority over prisoners? Prisoner! Inmate! That’s what she was called several times in the past few hours and every time it happened she wanted to object – she is not a prisoner or an inmate. Other people, bad people may be, but not her. The words were still buzzing in Melissa’s ears and nearly brought her to tears all over again. In her entire 23 year-long life, she had not experienced half the humiliation that she’d gone through within a single day. Melissa found it particularly unsettling to be restrained in chains in front of other people. There was something deeply humbling about it – the overwhelming awareness that those around her were free to move as they pleased while that privilege was no longer hers. It made her feel so low. “Is that the point?” – she thought – “Everything about this place seems to be setup to make me feel as insignificant as possible. As far as I know, even high security prisons don’t keep people naked or handcuffed in their cells.” Melissa once again became acutely aware of her nakedness and she curled into a ball on top of her cot as if trying to cover up from prying eyes. “I have to try to get through this somehow. I am sure they are not going to keep me here for two years, it will be a couple… maybe a few months at most.” – she thought hopefully. “I wish someone would talk to me and explained what I need to do to get by. How can I get any information when I am either gagged with that horrible muzzle too cruel to put on a dog and I can’t speak without permission when my mouth is free?”
Almost as if in response to Melissa’s last thought, she heard footsteps outside her cell and then the sound of a key working the lock. The now familiar officer Burridge opened the solid metal door.
“Are you settled in by now young lady? I have someone here with me who will speak to you about the rules you must obey.”
Officer slid open the barred door and entered the cell. Following him was a woman, who looked around thirty five years old and had a look and demeanor of a bored office worker.
“This is assessor Shelby.” – introduced the guard – “Mrs Shelby, this is Melissa…”
“Prisoner P5237” – corrected the woman, obviously not a big fan of the guard’s informal and conversational tone. “I am going to be your assessor. Each prisoner is assigned one and it will be my job to evaluate your behavior as you serve your sentence.”
“Sit here at the table” – said the guard to Melissa. The girl, having already got up from the cot as the pair entered, moved towards the table and sat down on the stool pointed to by the guard. There was a small metal ring mounted on top of the table. The guard produced a padlock from his elaborate belt, which featured a number of steel and leather implements such as pairs of handcuffs, a collar, a baton, a couple of short chains, and several more padlocks; apparently a well stocked arsenal of a jailers tool belt. The guard reached down toward Melissa’s hands and grabbed the chain between her handcuffs and pulled it onto the table. He affixed the padlock such that it went around Melissa’s handcuff chain and the table ring, effectively securing the prisoner in her place. Mrs. Shelby sat opposite Melissa and put a folder of papers on the table. She taxed the pretty prisoner with a rather scornful and aloof eye, stopping longer on the round and full breasts, shaking her head as if in disapproval:
"No wonder you ended up here... nature's been way too kind for you to become a decent person. I can already see that you'll be a difficult case to work with and we'll have to break some sweat to cut you down to size" - Mrs. Shelby obviously had her mind made up about Melissa. "Let's start going over rules. I've been told by the officer that you already know about the speech restrictions for inmates. Let me just add that you're allowed to ask questions while I am here, but don't interrupt me too often, make it count. Now, about your accommodation: you're a level C prisoner, which means that you'll generally be spending 16 hours a day in your cell and the remaining 8 you'll spend doing your assigned duties. These could be work assignments, obedience training sessions, behavioral schooling or punishments. Many activities that you'll be a part of will seem like punishments, but they are in fact essential to your progress here. Back to your accommodations - you will remain naked throughout the duration of your sentence, which will run for two years. You will be handcuffed most of the time, whether inside or outside of your cell and, in addition, you'll generally be shackled outside. You might occasionally get a reprieve from restraints, but you could also be restrained a lot more strictly, especially if you get written up for disobedience or other misdemeanor. The key, as you probably started to figure out, is to follow the rules and orders. Do you have any questions so far?"
"How often can I have visitors?"
"Not for the first two months. After that you'll be permitted a monthly visit from at most two persons. These visits will be the only times when you'll be allowed to put on clothes and they'll be taken away immediately after."
"Will I be able to have anything in my cell? There's nothing here. How about books?"
"Good question. Maybe you're not a total waste of space despite those shamelessly large breasts. Here at ICBG, we fully support intellectual progress of our prisoners. Each inmate is assigned two books to read every week, chosen by the prison, and those who have filled the quota can pick one additional book from an approved list. Failure to read at least two books will result in some severe punishments so you'd be wise to keep that in mind. You will be tested for knowledge of your assigned literature and in fact the circumstances of the test will be somewhat unpleasant for you. But you'll cross that bridge when you get there. Let's just say that the quicker you can answer the questions - the easier you'll make it for yourself."
"Can I have some pen and paper as well?"
"No, you cannot. You are not allowed to hold in your hand anything that resembles a sharp object unless you're closely guarded and properly restrained. You might occasionally be allowed to use a computer in our small lab, but don't count on it unless you earn some serious points for good behavior."
"Now, let's see, what else..." - pondered the woman - "Ahh, yes, you'll be fed regular meals - these will be dropped through the slot on the bottom of the door. Make sure that you eat everything that is provided and do not keep any items. Your cell can be searched at any time and if anything is found that doesn't belong... well, it will not be pleasant for you. Other than that, the main thing is to always do what the prison staff is telling you to do. If you can manage that, you'll do ok. With time, you will begin to understand the reasons for and long term benefit of such strict rules. I will be reviewing your progress monthly. I will have full insight into the record of your transgressions and if I deem them severe enough, you may be assessed appropriate punishments. You might even get reclassified to an even stricter imprisonment regime so try your best to stay out of trouble. That's all for now. Officer!"
Officer Burridge let Mrs. Shelby out of the cell and she disappeared without wasting time for parting pleasantries while he came back to the table. The old guard unlocked the padlock attaching Melissa's hands to the table.
"There, young lady. You should get some sleep now. It's 8pm now and your day may start as early as 5am tomorrow."
"Thank you" - said Melissa.
The guard frowned - "Remember that Mrs. Shelby told you that you can speak only as long as she's here. Now stand here, raise your head and keep it straight."
Melissa sighed in frustration and anger, wanted to protest, but managed to contain her emotions. She dropped her handcuffed hands in front of her, and held her face up. She already figured what was coming as the guard raised his hand. What followed was a fairly hard slap on her cheek - opposite from the one punished before.
"All done" - said the guard gently - "always make sure that you follow orders very closely so I won't have to do things like this. I don't really enjoy punishing pretty girls, but there are some people around here who do. Alright now, have a good night!"
Melissa, wiser this time, only nodded her head in response to the guard's words. The doors of the cell soon slammed shut and once again she was alone. She decided to take the guard's advice and try to get some sleep. There was a thin blanket on top of the cot in which she promptly wrapped herself. For a little while, Melissa shifted around nervously and had thoughts racing through her mind once again, but soon the toll of the day's events proved enough to let her plunge into a deep sleep.
End of Chapter 4
Chapter 5 – The burden of gravity
It was a beautiful morning. The sun was just coming over the horizon and casting its marvelous golden ambiance onto the ground below. In the midst of the illuminated surface lay a gray brick compound surrounded by a tall, barbed wire fence. There were few windows in the whole structure whose purpose was certainly far removed from providing any aesthetic beauty. One would need to morph into a small bird to be able to find any openings in the imposing building. Suppose that such shape shifting were possible – a person could find their way through a tiny ventilation opening between the bricks near the ceiling, venture down empty and sterile hallways, sneak through the elevator leading underground, and emerge on a corridor rhythmically called “Cell block C”.
If this bird had any human male-like instincts, he would be well advised to stop in front of a door engraved with a locally relevant symbol of C-37. Inside, a beautiful young girl was serenely enjoying the final moments of a well deserved sleep. Sometime during the night, she has thrown off a thin cotton blanket serving to provide her as the only means of covering her naked body. She wasn’t aware of it – the only thing that mattered was a delightful relaxation afforded by being disconnected from the troubles of reality – even if just temporarily. Her hands, though unaccustomed to being confined within tight iron bracelets, were resting leisurely near her face. Melissa was sleeping peacefully despite the circumstances and her face was showing an angelic expression indicative of a clear conscience. At least in her mind, not unlike any common criminal, this prisoner believed to be innocent of any crimes and a victim of scheming or wrong doing by others.
Presently, a sense of remembrance was starting to peek through the hazy veil of her dreams. One by one, the oft traumatic events of the previous day began to flow into Melissa’s mind. It only took a short while before she had full command of her normal, waking-hour perceptive abilities. Soon, she determined that her sleep disturbance was caused by a muffled cacophony of noises coming from outside her cell. There were sounds of shuffling steps, rustling of chains hitting against each other and dragging against the floor, shouted commands and banging at the doors. A short while later one pair of footsteps grew louder than the others and there was a loud knock on the door of Melissa’s cell. A little slot opened at eye-level and a male guard peeked through it making a quick scan.
“Get up, and order your bed! – invoked the guard. “Then stand on the yellow line with your back to the door. Keep you hands behind your head.”
Melissa startled at the authoritative tone of the guard’s voice. She still wasn’t used to being issued commands and it was grating on her to find that everybody around her suddenly seemed to have dominion over her person. Nonetheless, just a few seconds later, she got up gracefully from her little cot. She felt pretty good considering the circumstances and a natural instinct compelled to outstretch her handcuffed hands high above her head and arch her back almost parallel to the floor. A set of quiet yet satisfying cracking sounds in her back told her that her body appreciated the gesture. The guard, still peeking through the door slot, felt a sudden onrush of saliva in his mouth, accompanied with a tinge of electricity running along his back and a warm pleasant feeling in his loins – all at the sight of this chained young beauty. Being a professional that he was though, he soon managed to contain his urges and retain a pose of quiet confidence and stoic demeanor… at least for now.
Melissa did the best job she could to straighten up the thin blanket over the top of the cot and turned her eyes to the floor. There indeed was a short yellow line painted parallel to the door, about three steps away from the cell’s sealed gateway. The girl turned her back to the door and positioned her bare feet on the designated line. Then she hesitated a bit, raised her arms half way up, let them drop, and then finally raised them above and behind her head while knotting her fingers.
Shortly there was a characteristic sound of the heavy cell doors sliding open, followed by a higher pitched noise triggered by the inner bars being unlocked. Melissa could hear the guard step inside and position himself behind her. Her emotions built up quickly in anticipation and presently she was almost shivering from the mixture of fear, anxiousness and embarrassment. The guard got down on one knee within arms reach of Melissa’s lovely legs. A raindrop-like sound of chains hitting the hard cement floor reverberated through the cell.
“Spread your legs a foot apart.” – said the guard. Melissa complied and soon she felt a cold touch of iron around her left ankle and a ratcheting sound to accompany it. The same process repeated on her right ankle and a shiny pair of leg irons was now snuggly affixed around her lower extremities. The guard padlocked a chain between her leg chains and ran it up to and around her waist. It took a further two padlocks to adjust the waist chain to the circumference of Melissa’s slim waist and connect the slack to her handcuffs. All the while, the guard moved close behind Melissa’s body and unabashedly placed his hardening, trouser-covered manhood between the girl’s butt cheeks. He promptly, though regrettably backed off after completing the chaining process.
“Before I lead you out, I will do a body search. You will be searched this way on most days though it’s up to the attending officer whether to carry it out.”
The guard proceeded to first do a general pat down, which seemed ridiculous to Melissa since she wasn’t wearing any clothes, but the guard went about his business very methodically running his hands down her sides, back, stomach, and legs. He took a little time with Melissa’s awesome breasts taking each one fully in his hand and trying to lift it up – trying because the girl’s bosom, despite its ample size, seemed to defy gravity. No sagging could be reported even by the harshest critic. The same held true about Melissa’s finely crafted and toned behind, which presented a mouthwatering curvature. After the pat down, the guard took a pair of latex gloves out of his pocket.
“Open your mouth… wide.”
Melissa hesitated a bit, but complied and parted her lips. The guard unceremoniously cupped her chin with one hand, pulling down on it to further bare the girl’s teeth and placed the thumb of his other hand against the upper lip. He looked intently down Melissa’s gaping mouth moving his fingers to expose the crevices between her gums and cheeks first on the left and then on the right side. The effect of this intrusive procedure left Melissa feeling that she was treated like a horse at a market getting assessed by a prospective buyer. Certainly not a usual circumstance for a beautiful and pampered girl who just yesterday morning woke up in the comfort of her luxurious apartment and had breakfast brought to her bed by a hired Mexican maid. The guard continued his meticulous work by lifting Melissa’s tongue and looking under it. Finally, he pulled his fingers out of the girl’s mouth and pushed up on her jaw. Melissa breather a sigh of relief, but the worst was yet to come.
Without much of a warning, the guard lifted Melissa’s hands as far as the slack of the chain would allow, which was at breast level, knelt down and proceeded to part her delicate pussy lips. He brought his face close to Melissa’s vagina and started peering inside with the help of a small flashlight. Apparently, even that wasn’t quite enough to convince him that this girl wasn’t hiding contraband in her tight and almost virgin pussy for he shoved his gloved fingers inside the sweet canal and probed around. After a few seconds, the guard pulled his hand out and gave Melissa’s pussy a quick little rub as if to soothe it. He got up and walked behind the chained prisoner before hunching down once again.
“Bend forward and stay that way.” – came the guard’s order.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was coming and Melissa, being a smart girl that she was, could only muster another sigh – this time of frustration. Nonetheless she bent down obediently and even felt a slight tinge of excitement peeking through or maybe being fueled by her humiliation. The guard expertly parted her butt cheeks and looked intently at the girl’s anal cavity. Next came the intrusive finger probe though thankfully the guard showed some restraint and only pushed his finger, slowly and gently, maybe an inch inside Melissa’s exposed ass. The guard finally stood up and took off his gloves placing them in a little plastic bag, which he then put away in his pocket.
“You may stand straight now.”
Melissa promptly put herself back in a full upright position while the guard took her by the upper arm and led her out of the cell.
Out in the cellblock, unlike the first time Melissa saw it, there was some ongoing activity. She could see several other guards mostly male, but a few female as well, walking in and out of cells and moving along the corridor. Between them there a few naked girls, each a fine sample of feminine beauty, most of them chained in a similar fashion to Melissa and some even more severely restrained. Melissa and her guard stood in front of the cell door for a few moments watching the passerby traffic until another member of the staff approached leading a couple of prisoners in tow. They were naked and female of course just like all the other unlucky inmates of ICBG.
The two girls were chained at their hands and ankles, and additionally joined to each other by a peculiar form of coffle. Steel, dark grey collars were locked around their swan-like necks and linked together by a bar running between them. There was a single chain link between each collar and the respective end of the bar allowing the rigid structure to pivot at the attachment point, but preventing the two girls from getting closer to each other than the length of the bar allowed. One of the girls’ collar had a second attachment point and another steel bar and collar combo hanging down along her body. Melissa immediately guessed its purpose. She took a deep breath and braced herself for the coming indignities.
The guard who chained and searched Melissa picked up the surplus collar, used it to pull the two-girl coffle in the desired direction and brought the steel ring to Melissa’s neck. He applied the collar in a couple of trained motions and departed leaving the trio of chained beauties in the company of the other guard.
“Form a line in this direction, facing the elevators. Now walk forward, brisk pace, but steady” – the guard succinctly put forth his commands.
The girls moved in the designated direction, stepping somewhat awkwardly in their chains with Melissa being at the front and also the clumsiest of the three in her restraints. At some length they reached the elevator door and were ushered inside by the guard who then stepped into the box as well. The elevator made a quick trip down to level E, stopped, and the door slid open once again to reveal a room leading off to several other exits. To the right, there were evenly spaced doors, three in total, which naturally suggested the existence of small prisoner cells behind them. There was a circular desk in the middle of the room, the interior of which was occupied by a couple of the staff. None of them paid any head to the entering party. The guard now led the girls towards the cell block on the right. There was a length of chain with a pad lock hanging off a wall between cell doors, which the guard used to attach to the ring at Melissa’s neck collar.
“Wait here a minute.” – said the guard quite unnecessarily and turned his stride towards the staffed desk.
The guard and the other officers engaged in some hushed conversation, which couldn’t reach the prisoners’ ears with enough auditory force to be intelligible. All three girls kept their heads dropped low and their eyes fixed to the ground until now, but after a minute of idleness, they began to peek discreetly to the sides trying to assess their companions in plight. From what little she could see underneath her eyebrows, the girl linked directly to Melissa was a slender, brown haired girl with a pretty face and a delicate bone structure. She was leaning against the wall as if exhausted. The girl at the other end of the coffle was a little taller and more robust. She had pitch black hair and just a hint of ethnic vibe suggesting Asian origins – Indonesian or thereabouts. Unlike the other two girls, she did not appear to be too perturbed by being naked and chained up. She moved with grace and practiced fluidity within the confines of her restraints while Melissa often had her hand or foot caught in a sudden painful stop when the slack of her chains ran out. Normal instinctual movement like fixing one’s hair now had to be consciously suppressed at least until new habits were formed.
Melissa acknowledged the fact that her new companions were very attractive women yet she couldn’t help but think with some typical vanity, that she was the prettiest even among these beauties. The girls looked like they were in their late teens or early 20’s so roughly around her age. Melissa was still doing this mental assessment when the guard returned to the girls.
“Ok, ladies, you will wait in the holding cell before you are moved to your daily activities. You can talk while inside, but keep it quiet.”
The inside of the holding cell was yet another in a series of stripped down, featureless interiors that now dominated Melissa’s world. The walls were painted white and the only piece of furniture was a steel bench that ran around the entire cell except for the doorway. The girls were led by the guard to the opposite wall and made to sit down. All three of the chained beauties winced as their bare buttocks and pussies came into contact with the cold, steel bench. After a few seconds their body heat warmed up the surface of the bench and it was no longer uncomfortable. The guard exited the cell and slammed the door shut behind him. There was a moment of awkward silence between the girls.
“You’re new here, right?” – asked the exotic beauty while looking over at Melissa.
“Yes, they brought me in yesterday, right after I was sentenced. How long have you been here?”
“Seven months. And I have five more to go. What’s your name?”
“Melissa, it’s nice to meet you. I wish we were in more pleasant circumstances. I feel so humiliated.”
“It’s alright. Beginning is really tough, but you’ll get used to many things here that you never thought could be a part of your daily life. My name is Sinta by the way although I go by Selena since I moved from my home country.”
“And I am Amanda.” – offered the girl in the middle in a quiet voice. Melissa acknowledged her and then leaned forward to look at the ethnic beauty to ask a question that was presently burning in her mind.
“Selena, you said that you have five months left in your sentence. Isn’t there any way to get freed earlier like for good behavior? I can’t possibly stand this for two years!”
“I wish it was, but it’s very rare. I’ve met a couple of girls here that got out early, but it was only by a month or so.”
It wasn’t the answer Melissa was hoping for and she bit down on her lip to prevent from sobbing. She raised her hands to adjust the steel collar that was beginning to chaff her neck, but of course the connecting chain stopped her short of doing that and the whole operation ended in yet another painful display of the restraints’ effectiveness. Selena smiled knowingly.
“It will take some time before you figure out what you can and cannot do in these chains. Try to avoid any sudden movements for now… you will save yourself some cuts and bruises. I am so used to it by now that I know exactly how to move and where the limits are. And I noticed there’s actually some benefit to it. I can move and walk a lot more gracefully now then I ever could before - even though I wasn’t a klutz before I was locked up.”
“Well that’s just awesome, can’t wait.” – said Melissa with a hint of sarcasm, yet she couldn’t help but feel that she was already starting to like Selena.
Amanda, who stayed quiet other than introducing herself, sighed, closed her eyes, and let her head fall back and lean against the wall.
“Are you ok?” – asked Melissa.
“Yeah, I am fine. I am just so tired. They tortured me for most of the night and I only slept for an hour or two before they woke me up again.”
“What do you mean they tortured you? – Melissa was incredulous and shocked.
“Well, I am afraid you’ll find out yourself sooner rather than later. A lot of it is scary and it can be painful, but they’re careful not hurt us seriously and you can get through it. After a while you might actually start to like some of it, many girls here do.”
“I really doubt it. I can barely stand being naked and chained like an animal in front of all these strangers.”
“It will happen. It took me about a month before I started adjusting.”
“Same for me.” – added Selena. “I resented what was being done to me and pouted all the time, but then I figured that I need to move on and accept my place. So, you just have to…”
Selena broke her speech mid-sentence because there was a sound of the door latch being unlocked and a moment later a guard walked in. He proceeded straight to Melissa and unlocked her collar freeing her from the coffle.
“You two are going to wait a little longer.” – said the guard and then turned to Melissa. “You, on the other hand, have a session scheduled in the suspension chamber.”
Before Melissa could ponder what that meant, she was being led out of the holding cell, leaving Selena and Amanda behind. The guard took her back through the room with the circular desk in the middle and passed a doorway into another corridor. There were steels bars here blocking the way and the guard opened an inset door with a key from a hefty keychain hanging at his side. Melissa was now guided to the first door on the left. She looked at a plaque affixed to the door and wasn’t terrifically surprised to see that it read: “Suspension Chamber 1”. The guard ushered her inside and Melissa quickly and anxiously took a measure of her surroundings. It was a fairly large room, well lit and it was clearly divided into two sections. Closer to the entrance stood several desks with office-style chairs beside them, plus a few more freestanding seats, while the opposite side featured a slightly elevated concrete floor, maybe by a dozen inches, without any furniture. Immediately though, Melissa noticed that there were five chains, evenly spaced every three feet or so, hanging from the ceiling above the elevated floor and each ending a few feet from the ground in a pair of leather cuffs. The chains were held up by a system of pulleys that routed all of them towards the right hand wall where they disappeared into small openings. There were five crank wheels on that wall as well, one underneath each chain feeder. The opposite wall showed an even more sinister sight with a whole array or instruments such as whips, canes and riding crops hanging off of it in a neat arrangement.
A sharply dressed man was seated at one of the desks near the floor’s stage-like elevation and seeing the entering party reached over to a large stack of papers and pulled a single folder. The guard led Melissa to stand right in front of and facing the desk and the suit-clad man.
“Let’s see what we have here. Prisoner number P5237, named Melissa, 23 years of age, serving a two year sentence. Ok, I am Dr. Martin and I am a psychologist and behavioral specialist here at ICBG. I will be conducting most of your sessions here in the suspension room. Here’s the deal. These sessions are designed for maximum time effectiveness as well as therapeutic efficacy. They will teach you and train you to communicate in a precise and concise manner and also test your patience. You will be suspended by your wrists from one of the chains behind you. I may ask you questions while you’re up there, which you must answer immediately and truthfully so that you can be let down as quickly as possible. You are to hang without any excessive movement. It is well known to us that girls tend to instinctively bend their legs while suspended like this and this is not allowed. You’re also forbidden to speak other than to answer questions. Do you understand?”
Melissa’s eyes were growing wider and wider in bewilderment from the time she entered this room and even more so once she heard the mesmerizing details of his speech. Therefore, she was unable to muster any reply at first and in fact she was hardly aware of having been asked a question.
“I asked you if you understand.” – pressed the man.
Melissa managed a quiet “Yes.”
“You are a big girl Melissa; you should know that you address those with authority over you as sir.
“Yes sir.” – blurted Melissa almost automatically.
“Good.” – the psychologist motioned to the guard - “Hang her up.”
The guard took the shivering Melissa by her arm and led her towards the “stage”. There was a step cut in the middle that made climbing onto it easier, especially for chained feet of pretty female prisoners. They ascended the steps and stopped below one of the chains, the second one from the right from the psychologist’s point of view and directly facing his desk. The guard proceeded to take off Melissa’s waist chain and leg irons, leaving only the handcuffs. He raised her arms above her head to meet with the hanging leather enclosures and fitted them around Melissa’s slender wrists. Only then did he take off the girl’s handcuffs.
Melissa was left standing in place, breathing quite rapidly in nervous anticipation, as the guard approached the crank wheel labeled simply with a number “4”. He turned the wheel with ease and Melissa found her wrists getting pulled up towards the ceiling. Soon her arms were fully outstretched above her head and she had to get up on her cute, french-pedicured toes to keep contact with the floor. The guard paused for a second, as if to increase the tension, and then pulled the wheel by another revolution. Melissa’s feet suddenly cleared the ground and she felt the full weight of her body being transferred over to her cuffed wrists. She was a slender girl, though her buxomness and well defined hourglass figure augmented that to an extent. The leather cuffs around her wrists were apparently well designed because she didn’t feel them cutting heavily into her skin as might be expected yet the overall strain of her position still amounted to some significant discomfort.
Melissa now hung in all her naked glory a foot above the floor. Both the psychologist and the guard, despite being used to handling the sight of beautiful naked girls, were staring in awe at the scene in front of them. The gravity-induced tautness of Melissa’s body, so shamelessly displayed, was assaulting their senses and driving powerful urges. Her head was presently tilted slightly backwards as she tried to cope with her plight. Her breasts and stomach were both flattened as a natural effect from being thus outstretched. Her legs, on the other hand, were finely displayed with great curves tracing the lines of her thighs, calves, and the arches of her feet. Melissa hung still as ordered with her body only slightly swaying back and forth resulting from when she was pulled up and occasionally exacerbated when she moved her head. After the initial shock wore off, she was able to think a lot more clearly and she threw a couple of glances at her tormentors.
The guard was watching her with a stoic look although there was a lecherous undertow in his facial expression. The psychologist was taxing her carefully, taking down some notes in the process. She also noticed that he was presently fixing his gaze directly on her pussy. This realization kicked-in her modesty back in gear. She raised her thighs up and crossed her legs at the ankles trying to hide her sex from view.
“Remember that you are supposed to be still and not bend or raise your legs.” – said the psychologist.
The guard walked over to the wall with the assortment of punishment instruments and picked up a black riding crop. He walked onto the stage behind Melissa’s suspended body and glanced inquisitively at Dr. Martin. The good doctor decided to be magnanimous with his prisoner and raised his hand with only an index finger extended. The guard took a measured, relatively slow swing and stroke the girl centrally across her full round behind. A satisfying smack could be heard and Melissa sucked in air through her clenched teeth and threw her head backwards again. She instinctively started to raise her thighs and cross her ankles again when she realized that that got her in trouble in the first place. It took all of her will power to allow her body to hang freely off the merciless chain. No more blows followed and the guard stepped away.
Another dozen or so seconds have passed before the psychologist snapped his fingers at the guard. “Let her down.” The guard turned the crank wheel in the opposite direction from before and Melissa now found herself descending back to the floor. A moment later her feet were back on the ground, which felt better than ever before now that she didn’t take it for granted anymore. She was unhooked from the leather cuffs, but not before being placed in her ordinary handcuffs. The waist chain and leg irons were not re-applied.
“That’s it for today Melissa.” – said the psychologist. “You’ve done relatively well although you obviously have much to learn. We’ll be having these sessions three to four times a week. I will quiz you on your book assignments during these sessions so make sure to carry out the assigned reading and do so attentively. Do you have any questions for me?”
Melissa dropped her head and shook it. Then raised it with a startle and said – “No sir.”
“Good. Take her away then, officer.”
The guard led Melissa out of the suspension chamber and back to the elevators. Soon they returned to level C and Melissa was once again securely locked in cell 37. She sat down on her cot and only now felt her heart start to beat to a normal rhythm. Examining her feelings was difficult at this point with such a massive sensory overload. Dissipating fear and nervousness was mixed in with embarrassment, anger, and strange sense of excitement. Melissa decided not to force the issue too much and try to get some rest. The guard briefly mentioned before leaving that she would be retrieved from her cell in a couple of hours for further training. It already began to dawn on her that training was just a politically correct euphemism for punishment and torture.
Melissa laid down on her little cot, rolled up into a ball, which was a welcome change after the stretching her body underwent while hanging, and lolled off into sleep.
End of Chapter 5
Chapter 6 – Exposed Holes
“Prisoner, get up!” – yelled out a guard banging on the door of Melissa’s cell. Abruptly shaken out of her uneasy, post-traumatic slumber, she stumbled out of bed, getting her handcuffs entangled with the blanket in the process. After some short fidgeting and fumbling around, Melissa managed to get off her cot and stood in the middle of the cell eyeing the guard whose unfamiliar face was peering through the door slit.
“Your meal is here. You have 10 minutes to eat and return the tray along with all remnants of food and utensil.”
The guard opened another slit in the door; this one located at the very bottom, and slid a tray of food just inside the cell under a matching opening in the bars. Melissa waited a few seconds before the guard departed and carried the food to the little table. At this point, Melissa half-expected to see the plate filled with bugs and rotten eggs, but surprisingly the food looked quite appetizing and it soon turned out that it tasted good as well. The meal consisted of a lean chicken breast with seasoning, rice, broccoli and a small roll. There was also a cup of grape juice and a small bowl of vanilla ice cream.
“Whatever they have in store for me, it looks like starvation is not part of the plan.” – thought Melissa as she devoured her meal. Only now she had realized that it’s been some 20 hours since she last ate and the sight and smell of food awakened a raging appetite. However, always ladylike, Melissa ate slowly and deliberately, picking off small portions at a time, as if she was at a fine restaurant rather than a dungeon-like setting of a grueling prison. The handcuffs on her wrists fortunately did not prove to be a particular hindrance. She had to eventually hasten her pace mindful of the time restriction, which she had no doubt would be enforced very dutifully. Indeed, after exactly 10 minutes, there was a sound of steps outside her cell and the guard peeked inside at the naked prisoner.
“Go ahead and return the tray, then stand on the yellow line with your back to the door and put your hands on your head.”
Melissa complied swiftly on both tasks and shortly the guard was inside her cell and a rattle of chains was heard as they dropped to the cell’s concrete floor. The guard walked around to face Melissa and held up a pair of handcuffs to her eyes.
“These are your custom fitted handcuffs that you will be wearing from now on. They were made according to the measurements taken during your physical exam and the same goes for the shackles. It should make it a little more comfortable, which is important since you will be wearing them for long periods of time. You can see that your inmate number is engraved on all these.”
Melissa looked at the handcuffs and indeed there was the alphanumeric combination “P5237”, now a substitute for her name, etched in the shiny steel surface. The guard took of her “old” handcuffs and quickly replaced them with the custom made pair, which didn’t really look different and there was maybe a slight reduction in weight to be perceived. Nothing really to write home about. Soon, Melissa was placed in leg irons and a waist chain connected to the handcuffs. The guard led her out of the cell and they hitched an elevator ride down to level E. On the way through the corridor, they passed the suspension chambers. Melissa shuddered as they walked by the first chamber, having flashbacks of her earlier torture and punishment. The door to the second one went ajar and a sharply dressed man, most likely another behavioral psychologist, made his way down the corridor. Melissa caught a glimpse of the interior before the door was shut. It looked just like the first chamber and the elevated stage section featured two girls hanging by their wrists off of two rightmost chains. One of the girls was just receiving a lashing from a guard positioned behind her – apparently she transgressed the impossibly strict rules of the suspension chamber.
Melissa had little to no time to dwell on the poor girl’s plight as she was walking to her own uncertain fate. They passed a few shut doorways on either side until they stopped at one labeled: “Technique Enhancement Facility”. The guard opened the door and led the chained girl inside. Melissa took one anxious glance at the room and gasped loudly in shock. On each side of the room there were three elaborate steel contractions. Each one started with a single sturdy pole driving out of the floor. At about a man’s waist level, the pole split into two thin beams, parallel to the floor. The whole structure was augmented with a narrow, black leather, padded bench on top. The parallel beams extended in opposite directions at right angles to the bench and each ended in a sturdy shackle. There was a pivot point near the top of the main pole that obviously allowed to change the angle of the bench as well as a telescope for height adjustments.
The contraptions looked scary, but the real cause of Melissa’s horror was the fact that two of them, one next to another left of the entrance, were topped off with the unmistakable curves of young female bodies. Their bellies were positioned on the leather benches while their legs were spread to the sides, bent in frog-like fashion, and their ankles enclosed in metal shackles of the extending beams. Their front-handcuffed hands were taken around and underneath the bench where they were affixed to another, smaller steel beam, perfectly positioned just for that purpose. A chain ran around each girl’s waist and encircled the bench holding them firmly in place. Melissa almost immediately recognized that the two girls mounting the contraptions were Selena and Amanda whom she met just a couple of hours prior while waiting in a holding cell. Now these two beauties were lewdly exposed in a most humiliating way. The benches were adjusted in such a way that their fronts, where the girls’ heads were, pointed slightly downwards and away from the viewer, which meant that the genital areas of the occupants were prominently displayed. One small difference in the girls’ predicaments was the fact that Selena’s head was resting on the padded bench while Amanda’s was drooping loosely downwards. Apparently the front part of the bench had a hinged section so that the head support could be, and in this case it was, taken away.
The guard casually ignored Melissa’s distress and pulled her towards the last unoccupied contraption in the back-left corner of the room. Our prisoner kicked her bare heels in the ground and refused to move. It immediately occurred to her that she was forced to behave like a stubborn pack animal.
“Yield and obey, quickly!” – said the guard.
He gave a stronger tug on Melissa’s arm and the girl had to stumble and move forward in her shackles. The guard pulled her to the free apparatus and tinkered with it by lowering the bench down to Melissa’s upper thigh level. Then he unhooked the prisoner’s handcuffs from the waist chain and pulled them around and underneath the padded bench, where he padlocked them in place to the undercarriage beam. Next he took off Melissa’s leg irons and the waist chain.
“Ok, now lay down on top of the padding and I’ll lock you into place.”
Melissa only had to lean another couple of inches as she was already almost fully bent down on the bench due to restriction placed by her handcuffs. The guard pressed her down onto the apparatus, took her right leg and guided her slender ankle into the steel shackle. Then he repeated the process with her left leg. Once she was immobilized, the officer operated the telescope on the main beam raising the girl up to the level of a typical man’s manhood. The guard didn’t adjust the pivot to point Melissa’s head downwards like Selena’s and Amanda’s were, but that was a very small relief given the circumstances. Melissa laid exposed as she never dreamt she would be in her entire life. Presently, she could feel the room’s ventilation breeze gently creeping in, fondling her delicate pussy, and making its way between her butt cheeks. The guard stood behind her, admiring the view for just a few seconds, of which Melissa was acutely and painfully aware, before the door to the room went ajar.
The guard went away towards the door as a man walked in; also guard by the looks of it. The two officers exchanged polite salutations in passing as Melissa’s most recent tormentor left the room. The newly arrived guard proceeded to a small post in the middle of the room that ended at the top with a black box. Upon pulling a lever on the side of the box, a small tea-bag sized container emerged through a slot in the front. The guard took it and approached the station to which Amanda was tightly fastened. A quick pull of the officer’s finger on the edge of the small container ripped it open and another flick of the hand retrieved a circular, rubbery specimen. A condom!!
Melissa watched in horror as the guard unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers. He quickly rolled the condom down the hardening shaft of his penis; his movements showing neither haste nor undo excitement. He positioned himself right behind Amanda’s immobilized and contorted body and pressed the tip of his cock against the girl’s pussy. With one smooth motion he penetrated her almost to the base of his shaft and began rhythmically sliding in and out, taking well measured, crisp thrusts of his hips.
Amanda, whose head remained passively dropped all the way until her pussy was invaded, now raised it up level with the ground. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing became faster and audible. Before long, she was eliciting some slight moans as the guard continued his “duty”. The hard shaft kept sliding along the girl's moist tunnel. Melissa expected to see trauma and agony, but Amanda reacted quite differently than anticipated. Her facial expression went from tense, to exasperated, to one portraying unmistakable signs of pleasure. The guard's hips kept thrusting against her restrained posterior establishing a comfortable rhythm until finally, several minutes later, climaxing in a violent outburst of pent up, violent sexual energy. Both Amanda and the guard, shouted as in unison, to indulge themselves in the carnal pleasure. The guard briefly slumped over along the girls back, breathing in the sweet moisture of her young skin, and enjoying the sensation of having orgasmed into a body of such a lovely young creature.
Then it was over. Once again, there was a prison guard in the room and three chained up female prisoners. The officer tidied himself up and discarded the condom into a nearby trash can. He then walked leisurely between the bound silhouettes of the pretty prisoners. He stroked Selena's face and fondled her breasts, whispered some sweet nothings into her ear, then went around and approached Melissa's contraption from the rear. Her helplessly exposed butt protruded almost in the guards face especially when he bothered to lean in a little bit. Without being able to look at what's happening behind her, Melissa could still feel the guard's hot breath on her anal cavity. Breath in, breath out, harder and harder, and each exhale throwing a forbidden stream of air at her virgin opening. Finally the guard blew the air out of his lungs with one powerful sweeping motion - Melissa jumped in her chains to the extent permitted by her restraints. She tensed up to the utmost waiting... and nothing followed. The guard stepped back, zipped up his trousers, and casually left the room.
Chapter 7 - The New (Pleasant) Regimen
Tight cages, handcuffs, leg irons, eyes downcast, respectful erect posture, following orders – all of those things have come to be the norm of Melissa’s prison life. There is no telling how strongly her spoiled nature has rebelled against these new, almost unfathomable restrictions. She was a goddess for god’s sake! Her body used to be a temple before which throngs of men dropped to their knees, or lower, begging for the privilege of kissing the ground she stepped on. Executives of powerful companies would put their careers and family lives on the line, seduced by her irresistible beauty. Melissa has seen the strongest of men reduced to whimpering beggars on her account. It was all so easy before her arrest, living as if this imbalance could last forever. There were some subtle signs of the winds of change, but they seemed so insignificant at the time. She had heard of a new wave in society, which decried the subjugation it had come to receive at the hands of their most attractive female members, but she did not believe that it could possibly gain any momentum. Why would it? Who could possibly oppose the angelic beauty of young, confident females?
Yet, here she was; prisoner number P5237, confined to her nearly featureless, windowless cell, day and night, chained, consigned to almost relentless boredom, with her only reprieve being the books provided by the staff. The books were carefully selected, she soon realized, for their content of strong male characters and submissive yet proud women. Melissa was very intelligent, so she soon realized that aside from her 36DD breasts, it was her attitude towards men that landed her in this hellish prison. Clearly there were things that she had to learn before being permitted to rejoin society. Her ego found it exceedingly difficult to accept, but thoughts began to enter her mind that she would have to relinquish many of her most dearly held opinions in order to resume any semblance of a normal life.
It was in one of such reflective moments, when Melissa, shifting her wrists absentmindedly in the ever-present handcuffs, heard the lock of her cell being turned open. Officer Burridge opened the solid steel as well as the barred door and smiled almost good-naturedly at the prisoner. Melissa, unwittingly, has come to be fond of the old guard. It was a strong catalyst of emotion that he was the type of a man which she would have despised while being a hot, free young woman. Yet, being locked up, she had no choice but to rely on this man, who had, seemingly, any and all rights to her body, yet showed incredible restraint in only occasional fondling of her breasts or kissing her butt cheeks while performing a “requisite” prisoner strip search. None of the men she knew prior to her imprisonment has spoken out on her behalf as far as she knew. Perhaps there was nothing they could do, but ALL of her past suitors proclaimed willingness to fight to the death on her account. So much for knights in shining armor! This feeling of isolation made Melissa long even more for the “gentle” jailer’s hand. Officer Burridge handled her with a degree of respect and warmth though he did not hesitate to slap her face when she stepped out of line. Still, Melissa knew that he was her ally to the extent that anyone now could be called as such, and she hoped to gain future squishy points on account of this.
Today, however, her jailer seemed a lot more rushed than usual. He un-cuffed her left wrist, only to bring her arms behind her back and snap the cuff shut around her free wrist once again. The officer then knelt down and slid in a key into the locks of Melissa’s leg irons, unclasping them one by one and freeing her legs. Melissa was surprised at this uncharacteristic loosening of her restraints, but being happy enough, only managed to throw a seductive glance in the officer’s direction, for which she was immediately slapped across her left cheek. No longer questioning her predicament, Melissa let herself be led by her forearm, straight back into the administrative chasms of ICBG. It wasn’t long before the guard and the cute prisoner were standing in front of the principal’s office door.
“Come in” – intoned a calm, firm voice, just as Melissa remembered from her initial interview with this man.
Officer Burridge opened the door and led Melissa inside. He proceeded to guide her, still gently clasping her forearm, straight to the side of the principal’s office chair. Mister Adam Desquires, was in capital mood today, and the sight of this ravenously hot girl, chained at his disposal, made his day even more exhilarating at the drop of a hat.
“Hello Melissa!” – beaconed the principal – “I have sent for you deliberately, because I believe that I have found something special in you. While your sins towards society are heavy, I believe that we can work through them and jumpstart you on a path of becoming a truly valuable human being. We’ve only met for a brief period, but I looked into your case in some more detail and found out many interesting things about you. It seems that there are two conflicting personalities fighting for prominence within you. One is that of a typical young, pretty tart, similar to most attractive women today. It’s the manifestations of that side of your psyche that have landed you here. The other, however, is very note worthy. You are in many ways a remarkable young woman who takes her studies seriously and her work seriously, you have worked for charitable organizations sacrificing your free time, and the few people that I’ve contacted to inquire about you, spoke in nothing but superlatives. Therefore, I think that we should get more closely acquainted.”
The principal demurely gestured to come hither and the guard pushed down on the girl’s shoulders and Melissa suddenly found herself on her knees, uncomfortably close to the principal’s manhood, which has just come to protrude more and more through his expensive dress pants. The guard quietly left the room while the director continued to talk.
“I am sure that you have noticed, possibly to your disappointment, that the guards have not been taking advantage of you sexually. This has not been a coincidence, nor is it a critical reflection of your beauty. Quite the opposite… I’ve ordered the folks that you shall remain chaste for as long as I deem suitable.”
The principal stopped his speech and examined Melissa’s reactions. She was definitely blushing, as much from her humiliating, kneeling position, as from the overtly sexual nature of his speech. It didn’t stop there either.
“I won’t beat around the bush, so to speak” – continued the director – “and I’ll explain the situation very simply to you. At nearly all times I use my privileges as the director of this facility to pick out a girl to perform a morning oral service on me. Think of it as a secretary serving coffee for her boss as soon as he arrives at work. An officer will bring you here every morning and leave you at the side of my chair. You will kneel down, stay quiet and wait. When I am ready, you will perform to the best of your ability, which I am sure still needs a lot more honing.”
Melissa looked up at the principal in wide-eyed amazement. Of course the things she has seen at ICBG prepared her somewhat for the inevitable reality that she will not be able to remain chaste in this place, but the manner in which it was to happen was quite befuddling. She also couldn’t help, but take a glance at the principal’s left hand where a thick wedding ring shone with a golden sparkle. The director noticed her glance.
“Oh, you’re wondering about this? Well, rest assured that I am divorced, parted with my former wife two years ago, so I am free as a bird to enjoy the charms of my lovely convicts. Not that I wouldn’t have the authority to do it even if I were married, but I am a man on principle. It is now up to you, Melissa, to put me in a good mood every morning and I can tell you that the well being of you and many other prisoners depends on my mood to a great extent.”
Wasting no more time, the director unzipped his dark grey, wool trousers, unfastened the button at the top, parted the material to the sides, and without getting up from the chair pulled down on his briefs to expose an already engorged penis. Melissa instinctively closed her eyes, but the director reached with his hand to cup her chin and shook it a little bit, which was a clear enough indication that it would be wise for her to open them back up.
A rather large erect penis was in her face, but Melissa was frozen as in shock. She knew that her pride wouldn’t let her move a muscle until she was forced to do so. She didn’t have to wait long. The director smiled demurely, reached out with his hand, and pushed her head forward straight onto his awaiting manhood. Melissa instinctively opened her mouth and felt the vibrant, pulsating source of masculinity enter her delicate mouth. She had to admit that deep inside she found the director a very attractive man. He had the requisite stature and confident composure that spoke loudly even to her overtly exaggerated sense of self-worth. Even as a free person she might have given this man some serious consideration. And now, helpless as she was, already conditioned through days of humiliating imprisonment, her mind and body responded almost beyond the reach and control of her consciousness.
As if awakened from a trance, Melissa shook her head and without disengaging the invading object from her mouth, she began to work her lips and tongue to the best of her ability. She didn’t have all that much experience, having shunned the advances of so many men, but she had an instinctual sense of what needs to be done to please a man. She keyed on his responses, which quickly came to dominate her senses, and very quickly established a sort of comfortable rhythm that proved maintainable for her, and extremely pleasing to him. It didn’t take very long before Mr. Desquires gasped and his body quivered starting from his most inner parts.
A healthy ejaculation followed… into the tissue in the director’s hand. Obviously he had enough of the presence of mind to pull out of the girl’s mouth and prepare not to make a mess on the floor of his office. Melissa, despite her predicament, was somewhat surprised at this. This man seemed so lost in his pleasure just a second ago, yet showed an incredible presence of mind even in the midst of a highly emotional experience. Without quite being able to formulate her thoughts, Melissa felt slightly insulted. She turned her head away and strained futilely against her handcuffs positioned behind her back.
The director clasped his hands and a guard entered almost immediately. Melissa didn’t know this guard. He was one of the faceless thugs that seemed to constantly roam through the corridors outside of her cell.
“Take this pretty lady back to her quarters. Let her wash her mouth somewhere along the way” – said the director.
“Yes sir.” – responded the guard curtly.
“You did very well Melissa and I am looking forward to seeing you in here every morning. If you keep doing a good job and diligently work on improving your technique, your stay at out prison will be a little bit lighter. It’s not going to be easy by any stretch of the imagination, but you will be awarded perks that other prisoners can only dream about. What do you say about that?”
“I don’t know… sir. I don’t think this is right. I know I am supposed to be in prison, but this, I just don’t know…”
“Please Melissa! I know you’ve seen what the reality of life is around here. Remember that this is a corrective facility and we will not ask of what you approve of and what you do not!”
“Then why did you ask me what I think about it… sir?”
“I asked you because I want to give you a semblance of respect. You know very well that by the court order, you were stripped of human rights for the duration of two years. There is virtually no limit as to how we can dispose of your body in this place. Your defiant attitude is truly something, but it will be broken in due time. We will work to replace it with one that can better serve society. I will let you go back to your cell now without any further sufferings. Despite your lack of experience, you have shown plenty of natural talent so I expect to see you here again tomorrow morning.”
“Take her away!” – The director motioned at the guard. Melissa was led out of the office and proceeded, escorted, down the now familiar corridors back to the lock down area of level C. They stopped briefly along the way in some small toilet area, where the guard had to help the back-chained girl to rinse out and wash her mouth.
Once in the cell, the guard repositioned Melissa’s handcuffs in front of her body and left quickly locking her inside of her cramped habitat. Melissa felt a bit drained from the experience, but at the same time strangely stimulated. She could not sit down for a while and continued pacing her self with a nervous gait, fortunately not impeded by leg irons at this time, contemplating what transpired. Obviously a new chapter has begun in her prison life. She has crossed a barrier that she knew would come soon, though as far as she could tell, she crossed it in the best possible circumstances. She wasn’t getting raped by faceless guards in her most private regions. She heard the director say in his own words that he hand picked her for his personal service girl. If there was any nobilitation to be had in this place – that was probably it. On the other hand, her mind rebelled at having been sexually violated in any sort of way. The only problem was there was no avenue for her to appeal to justice. As far as the system was concerned, her jailers had full rights to her enslaved body. There wasn’t anything she could do unless the laws were changed to reinstate her human rights.
After a while Melissa felt tired and hungry. Fortunately it was feeding time soon and a tray of food was passed underneath the door. The poor girl ate it hurriedly and returned the cleaned-out plate near the slot at the entrance to her cell. Left alone to her thoughts, Melissa sat on the low, hard stool at the little table and allowed herself to dream about happier times, so recent, yet so very distant.
Chapter 8 – Training Through Labor
Later that day, following an afternoon meal, a guard took Melissa out of her cell after applying a standard set of waist chain and leg shackles in addition to the handcuffs, and led her out of the cell block back trough the punishment and training area. Once again, they passed the suspension chambers, passed the hideous “rape-room”, as Mellissa dubbed it in her mind, and came up to the door of another vault, this one labeled as “Training through Labor”. The guard took off the girl’s shackles and the waist chain, and also repositioned her handcuffs behind her back.
“I know that you are fairly new, have you been here before?” – asked the guard.
“No sir, I haven’t”.
“You will definitely get your share of exercise here. Make sure that you do what you’re told by your instructor. Have fun!”
With that the guard opened the door and pushed the girl inside. The interior turned out to be a large room filled with a number of implements that took some time to digest for unaccustomed eyes. To the right of the entrance, a couple of prisoners, young and pretty females of course, were seen walking back and forth along a trail painted by the floor. It was immediately apparent that their gait was not unimpeded as there was a metal pole extending vertically from the small of each girl’s back, attached to it through the means of thick leather straps circling the waist and also extending from the front, crossing on the breast area, over each girl’s shoulder, before crossing at the back again and mounting into the main waist strap. There was a rail-like contraption just a yard or so above each of the girls’ heads, running along their walking trails, that held the metal poles in vice like grips. There were also gears and wires visible along each device suggesting mechanical complexity. Melissa noticed immediately that each of the girls showed signs of strain in their postures as if walking forward required considerable effort.
Melissa couldn’t spend much time observing these two as her attention was now drawn by the sight and the sound coming from the other sight of the room. There were two sturdy vertical poles mounted in the floor and extending to the ceiling separated by about twenty feet. Each of the vertical poles had a horizontal beam, attached at about three feet from the floor in such a way that it could be rotated around the vertical center like the hand of a clock. There was a girl, chained to one of these devices as well, apparently forced to laboriously push it around. A man in a black uniform followed her around, shouting at her periodically, wielding in his hand a thin but menacing whip, much like those used by farmers on their work horses. Exactly like those in fact. The girl cried out in pain whenever the whip slashed across her bare back.
The whole image was surreal and Melissa gaped at it with parted lips, but soon enough her spine and shoulders felt a jolt of adrenaline as the black-clad man interrupted his proceedings and approached her in measured steps. He was, surprisingly, a jovial looking fellow and he came near Melissa’s shivering body wielding, besides his whip, a slightly ironic smile.
“Hello there, I don’t believe I’d seen you here before and I think I’d remember if I did. What’s your name cutie?”
“Melissa”.
“Melissa. Very good. What’s your prisoner number?” – said he a little more sternly.
“It’s P5… 237” – stammered Melissa.
“Ok, make sure that you remember it without pretending to consult your memory. We all know that your present life is contained within these walls. Do you understand?”
Melissa nodded her head.
“Please answer me audibly when I ask you a question” – said the man.
“Yes… I understand” – said Melissa, blushing.
This was, of course, a small lie on her part. She did not understand at all. Why did she have to stand naked and handcuffed behind her back, shamelessly exposed, in front of this mediocre man? He was about three levels down from the lowest acceptable attractiveness rung for a beauty like her. It was inconceivable that he should be allowed to look at her angelic figure, much less be in position to speak to her without slavish sycophanting.
“P5237…” - syllabised the man while punching in the letters and numbers into a small electronic notebook. – “Good, I got your file. So, you were a journalism student prior to your sentence here, and you also held a part time job as an HR rep in a media firm… It’s all quite typical for a girl of your social standing. Anyway, the purpose of your visit here is reform through labor. If you look around you, you can see pretty young things like you put to arduous work. If it seems that their efforts serve no external purpose then your perception is correct. They are not working and sweating to produce anything. The only goal is to instill the sense of respect for honest, hard work that these little sluts, forgive my base description, were severely lacking.”
The man stopped his speech for a moment to examine Melissa’s reactions. The girl’s self-consciousness was still working overtime and if she had a choice in the matter, she would disappear into thin air rather than stay any longer in this unbearable position. She registered the man’s words in her mind and had no doubt that they applied to her as well. The man calmly regarded her for a few seconds and finally spoke.
“Let’s get you started here. Come with me pretty lady.” - With that, the man took Melissa’s upper arm and led her to the unoccupied horizontal beam. He un-cuffed her wrists from behind her back and chained them to the manacles hanging, rather loosely, off the beam. This isn’t so bad, thought Melissa, but her optimism quickly evaporated as her tormentor picked up a couple of thin, loose wires hanging off the beam, augmented by a couple of small iron clamps. The clamps were duly brought up to her nipples by the man’s eager hands. No wonder. There wasn’t a straight male in the world who wouldn’t salivate at Melissa’s cleavage and the lewd exposure of it demanded utmost self-control even from the most temptation-resistant men. Melissa winced as the clamps were applied, more from the indignation at the procedure than the actual pain. There seemed to be enough slack in her manacles to reach up and pull the clamps off of her breasts, but she saw the man’s stern face and thought better than to offer herself that kind of relief.
“Here’s what you have to do.” – said the man – “In a moment, I will start a computer controlled sequence on this device. It will carry out a pre-programmed set of activities designed to strain your body. This is just a warm up although with you being new here, it may prove to be challenging.”
The black-clad man moved to the electronic pulpit in the corner of the room and for the next few seconds his fingers could be seen tapping the built-in keyboard. Eventually a clicking sound could be heard and a green light lit up in the ceiling.
A female voice spoke through the speaker, obviously generated by a synthesizer program:
“Make three full rotations in sixty seconds.”
“Follow the instructions you hear.” – said the man – “If you don’t complete the assignment in the allotted time, you will experience a rather unpleasant sensation in your shamelessly large breasts.”
Melissa kept standing in place, uncertain what to do. She was humiliated beyond belief and simply couldn’t make herself take a step and push the contraption forward. Despite many days of confinement in dank cells, chains restricting her every move, Melissa still felt entitled to a lifestyle of leisure. As she had many times before in recent days, she had a momentary sensation of an out of body experience. Surely this could not be happening to her. One of the hottest girls in the Western hemisphere, smart and pretty, an object of worship for horny men and envious women alike, simply could not be subjected to this kind of treatment. However much she would like though, rationalizing the situation was near impossible. The heavy manacles on her wrists were staring her right in the eyes, as were the clamps on her exposed and now hardened nipples.
“Go on, you better move quickly, time is ticking!” – said her “training” instructor.
Melissa sobbed inwardly making her chest shudder and exerted herself forward against the ghastly device. Her task was hard, she could feel it immediately. Her delicate feet had to push hard against the concrete floor in order to keep moving along. With the initial delay, there was no way for her to accomplish the task.
“Ten seconds left.” – intoned the electronic voice after Melissa has just completed one rotation. She stopped at this point seeing the hopelessness of the situation. She let her hands fall down as much as the chain would allow and awaited her fate.
“Time is up!” – said the voice.
The energy jolt came at her with a vicious force. Melissa screamed loudly and brought her hands up to her nipples. The piercing sensation seemed to be tearing apart her chest. With an adrenaline fueled precision, she managed to press on the clamp handles and release them from her breasts. An electric current was still flowing through them and her hands were being jolted as well so she let them out from her grasp as fast as possible.
“Those are not for you to touch! Put them back on!” – ordered her torturer.
Melissa tentatively touched the hanging wires. The current was off now so she was able to pick up the clamps and angrily move them towards her irritated nipples. Placing the dreadful vices back on herself was an act of abject humiliation, but the pain experienced just seconds prior, did not allow for pompous deliberation.
“Two revolutions, forty five seconds.” – intoned the calm, female voice.
Melissa knew better than to delay this time. She strained against the device, pushing it around in a fashion more befitting, she thought, of a work horse than the most pathetic of human beings. Sweat quickly broke through on her forehead and by the time she finished the sequence, with five seconds to spare, she was panting and gasping for breath. Her manacled hands were hanging freely as far as the chain would allow.
Two more sequences followed. They were not as hard as the first one, or two for that matter, yet they were exhausting nonetheless for a girl unaccustomed to doing any legitimate work. By the time she was unchained from the machine; her body and mind have been completely encompassed by the arduous tasks thrown in her direction.
“You did ok, Melissa.” – said the man, raising her head with his hand propped against her chin. “You will come back here many times and you will laugh at how poorly conditioned you were in the past. Did you think you could truly please men being such an out of shape slob? No matter, you have begun your path to recovery and you’ll be surprised at your quick progress. Guard! Come in here. You may take her away. No penalties need be levied.”
The nearly unconscious girl was put back in the regular transport restraints and almost absentmindedly dragged back to her cell, which now seemed more like a haven of tranquility than a tight cage for the tortured beauty.
Chapter 9 – Unfair Punishments
Melissa crossed the doorstep of Suspension Chamber 2 with her heart thumping wildly. She knew what to expect by now and it never got any easier. The psychologist seated at the desk in the middle of the room motioned the guard to go ahead.
“String her up.” – said the young man in his very refined, calm tone of voice.
It was the same man that briefly interrogated Melissa on her first trip to the Suspension Chamber and he seemed to be the one most often assigned to handle her questioning.
The guard, one of the burly and primitive types, not the strict but fair ones like officer Burridge, which Melissa naturally preferred, took her without any delay up the platform steps and restrained her wrists in the middle of five sets of shackles hanging from the ceiling. Her regular handcuffs and transport chains were removed. Next came the dreaded moment when the guard turned the appropriate crank in the right-side wall and Melissa’s hands were drawn upwards until her feet cleared the floor and stopped about a foot above it. She no longer felt the need to point her toes as she was being drawn up as it simply served no purpose. The outcome was inevitable.
Once hung, Melissa tried to assume something resembling a comfortable and steady state, as much as it was possible under the circumstances. She waited a few seconds, her suffering increasing before the psychologist spoke.
“Did you manage to read your assigned work?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did you think of the male protagonist?”
“I thought that he was a brute who was trying to hide his inferiority complex behind pretensions of patriotism and greater good. He was a primitive brute.”
“Ok, not quite what I was expecting.” – said the psychologist slowly – “but let’s move on.”
“How would you describe the hero’s attitude towards women?”
Melissa took in a deep breath and exhaled desperately. Her bondage was quickly becoming torturous and she was aware that the last question, or rather her answer to it, carried a lot of weight in terms of her immediate future well being. That’s not to say that she was going to sugar coat.
“He definitely didn’t respect his women or any other women for that matter. He treated them like things that can be used and disposed of - inferior beings.”
“So he did. But maybe he was right? The women responded very favorably to such treatment, you must admit. They flocked to him constantly. This book is a work of fiction, but it is heavily based on true events and it is well known that the author tried to diminish rather than embellish the protagonist’s romantic conquests. Why do you think he had so much success in this field?”
“He preyed on women of low self-esteem. They were raised to be servants of men and considered it an honor to be noticed at all. I am surprised that such an obvious fact “escaped” your perception.”
“Ok Melissa, take it easy there and remember your own position. I could argue these facts with you for a long time, but I don’t think that it would be advisable considering your predicament. Unfortunately I am not supposed to have a prolonged interaction with you if you’re not in significant physical distress and keeping this up for too long could cause permanent damage to your body so we have to keep it brief. Just one more question then. What do you think about a man having a dominant position in a relationship with a woman?
Melissa was almost at the end of the rope, both literally and figuratively. Her body was stretched unbearably taut by the suspension. She remembered the strict order to maintain a nearly motionless state despite the pain and the natural inclination to contort. It took all of her will power to focus her thoughts on the question. For the moment at least she was able to put away the paralyzing notion of being lewdly displayed in full view of strange men who made no compromise when it came to enjoying the sights offered by her body. After gasping a couple of times to contain the suffering, her mind seemed clear enough and she was able to fire back a quick response.
“I think that there are plenty of men who will try to impose their will on women, even by force, and then gloat about their victories and conquests. They are pathetic in my view and in the eyes of any self-respecting women as well.”
“But have you considered what women really want? I can understand that an upper crust girl like you would feel that everyone should submit to her whimsies and wishes, but is that really something that brings you happiness? Is that really in agreement with your true nature? Be honest, Melissa, I can see that there are cracks in your thick shell.”
“All I can say is that I explained my views with utmost sincerity. I formed the majority of my opinions by learning from my mother, who was… is a very strong and noble woman… and my father as well (to some extent). You can obviously do what you please with me. I have little doubt that the outcome will be less than pleasant for me since I dared to disagree, regardless of whether I was right or wrong.”
“I can see the game you’re playing Melissa. You would rather face more punishments prescribed by me just so you can call me the bad guy. Well, all I can say is that I cannot blame you too much for speaking your mind. You were brought here for a reason and the flaws in your personality are still very apparent. No matter. You have quite a bit of time to spend here and I am sure that you’ll soon make terrific progress…”
The psychologist reclined in his chair and motioned casually at the guard -”Take her out!”
The crank in the wall, operated by the guard moved in the opposite direction and Melissa’s delicate feet were finally able to touch the ground again. The guard unchained her from the leather shackles and applied the standard transport chains. Melissa briefly felt embarrassingly grateful to be chained in this now-familiar bondage as it meant a trip back to her secluded and quiet cell where at least she wasn’t tortured or abused. As they were passing by the psychologist’s desk though, the young man waived at the guard to come closer, but gestured away the prisoner. The guard came forth and brought his ear close to the psychologist’s mouth. What followed was less than a minute of inaudible whisper. Then the guard came back to Melissa, took her by the arm, and led out of the suspension chamber.
The trip back contained one surprise when the guard approached one of the supply storage rooms that were seemingly scattered all over the prison and briefly walked in after chaining Melissa to a ring just outside. He came back out within just seconds carrying with him a dark grey metal pole, a couple of feet in length, and maybe two or three inches in girth. One end of the pole had a metal ring with a black leather collar attached by a padlock, while the other end had only a similar metal ring. There was also an additional ring attached perpendicularly and linearly to the pole vector near the end of the collar-free extremity. The couple continued their trip back to cell C37. Melissa immediately had a vague inkling as to the purpose of the strange device and her fears were confirmed when the guard led her into the cell and immediately proceeded to place her on the cot. He sat her down and removed all of her restraints. Melissa had a strange onrush of emotion, feeling wrongness of the situation where she was unrestrained in the presence of a free person and not separated from that person at least by a set of metal bars, but she quickly repressed those thoughts and flushed with anger. She knew she still felt utmost humiliation at having to wear restraints, not too mention being naked and gawked at all the time. This was so unfair that her mind would react like that and she would have none of it. Not yet, and hopefully not ever.
“Climb on the bed and lay down on your stomach.” – said the guard. – “Then just relax as I need to do some prep-work here.”
Melissa obliged and soon felt the guard’s hands lifting her head up. He held it there firmly for a second indicating that the prisoner is supposed to maintain this position. Then Melissa could feel the dread leather collar being passed quickly and assuredly underneath her throat and then fastened with a couple of practiced motions around her slender neck. The metal pole was now laid down on her back reaching all the way to her waist. Her hands were roughly pulled back and handcuffed quite tightly on the small of her back. The guard used a padlock to attach the handcuff chain to the perpendicular ring and left Melissa’s hands in a rather strained position. Then the leg irons were tightened on the girl’s ankles and the chain was predictably fixed to the end ring of the pole using another from the guard’s seemingly endless supply of padlocks hidden somewhere in his jailer’s belt.
“I am sorry but… this is how you are gonna have to sleep tonight.”
“Ahh… so the gentlemanly psychologist wasn’t quite as magnanimous as he claimed to be.” – exclaimed Melissa in a smart-alecky tone. Her sense of fairness has been particularly insulted at being outright lied to in the suspension chamber.
“I won’t tell you either way. It wouldn’t be very practical for me to slap you for speaking out of order while you’re lying down like that so I’ll just give you something to chew on over the night. Hopefully you won’t be so eager to mouth-off in the morning.”
The guard produced a muzzle from a side of his belt. Melissa could see out of the corner of her eyes that he actually had two of them attached. One of them had a thick rubber tube protruding from the mouth piece, much like the one she wore during her court appearance, while the other, the one chosen by the guard, had a smaller contraption that started out as a thin tube and then expanded out into a ball-like shape. When the muzzle was affixed, Melissa found that the shape of the oral insertable was quite accommodating and she had a momentary sense of gratefulness that he chose the smaller, more comfortable of the implements for her to wear. Then she felt angry again. It was HIS decision to put this thing on her. He didn’t have to do it and there’s no reason to be grateful for so small a favor all things considered. Not wanting to draw any further punishments caused by her annoyance, Melissa lay completely still, resigned to her bondage. The guard, having completed his task of chaining yet another beauty, patted Melissa’s buttocks in a patronizing way. He couldn’t stop himself from following it up with a couple of gentle rubbing motions up the prisoner’s thighs and along the cleft of her buttocks. Then he stood up, muttered something to himself, which Melissa could best interpret as: “Not bad”, and left the girl’s cell, locking it securely as it was always the case.
Melissa lay on her cot in her utterly helpless state. There was a light in the cell for some time, then it went out and it was almost pitch black. Melissa thought, early in her stay, that the light was always on as it didn’t seem to go off for the first couple of days of her incarceration, but then she noticed that it was turned off periodically during the night, and sometimes, from what she understood looking at the electronic wall clocks scattered around the prison, the day time as well. It wasn’t an easy observation to make as there was no clock in her cell and no window to the outside world from three stories underground, so she had to look at some of the clocks she passed along the way to her daily duties or nightly tortures. She knew when morning time came because there was increased commotion in the corridor with lots of pretty shackled feet shuffling around. She could approximate evening because the frequency of noises outside of the cell died down considerably and she felt sleepy due to her natural cycle. The inconsistency of the light was annoying and it was obviously purposeful to evoke just such feelings. Sometimes it was on for half the night when Melissa wanted to sleep and sometimes it would go off in the afternoon when she was just getting immersed in a book.
Now, laying immobilized in the dark, Melissa turned her mind back to her restrained body. Her bonds were brutal, no doubt, but at first it seemed that it was all manageable. She was lying down quite comfortably on her stomach, and as long as she didn’t struggle in vain, she would make it through the night without too much suffering. The muzzle was causing some slight drooling, though not nearly as much as the thick wadding of her courtroom gag. Gradually though, the strain on her limbs seemed to grow and her awkwardly handcuffed wrists offered the most protest. Her back, her neck, and eventually almost her whole body seemed to ache just enough to prevent her from falling into a liberating sleep. At one point, she started sobbing quietly at her miserable state. Her shoulders shook as she cried into the thin pillow on the cell cot. Her nose quickly became stuffy and coupled with the muzzle gag filling her mouth gave her a difficult time breathing. As the discomfort grew, Melissa was able to gradually suppress her sobbing and the adrenaline rush from impeded breathing gave her a boost of strength. At the same time she considered the fact that she was young and healthy, and she would eventually get out of this place. There were certainly many sufferings ahead, but there was also the prospect of having the chains taken off permanently and reassuming her place in society as a pretty young thing, still. Then she thought, with anticipation, about her morning oral service on the prison director and her mind was rather pleasantly preoccupied for some time. Melissa was a modest girl, despite her beauty, and the art of self-pleasuring was somewhat embarrassing to her throughout her youth. Not that she abstained completely, not at all, but she tried to keep it at the low end of the scale frequency-wise. However, this was one of those moments when her own fingers could have provided great deliverance. It was not to be though as her painfully handcuffed wrists were locked behind her back, far away from her almost virgin pussy. Sighing in frustration Melissa tried to rub her groin area against the blanket on which she lay, but the sensation afforded her was weak, insufficient.
As she had many times before during her lock-up, Melissa pondered the notion of how easy it was to take for granted the freedom of movement, whether applied to her restrained limbs or her entire body confined within prison walls. A free person rarely takes a moment’s time to appreciate the fact that they can move as they please, put their body in the most comfortable position possible, or walk in and out of the room they find themselves in. It is hard to describe, Melissa thought, the feeling of having all those freedoms taken away to someone who has never experienced it. Still, the sensations offered by her situation provided new, strange experiences. Whenever she was ashamed and angry at having to stand naked and chained in front of a fully clothed man, her heart raced; there was strange warmth between her legs coupled with butterflies in her stomach. All these feelings were inadvertent, unwanted, but near impossible to repress.
The night carried on in its deliberate pace, seemingly slowing down the time itself just to make one poor girl suffer longer than necessary. Pain eventually turned to numbness and a wicked sort of relief gradually took over. Some dreams and confused thoughts kept passing through Melissa’s mind until finally she dosed off from sheer exhaustion.
Chapter 10
Melissa awoke suddenly with a loud gasp. It took only a couple of seconds before she realized that her situation has not changed. She was still lying on top of her bunk in painful, strenuous restraints. The thin pillow beneath her face was wet with saliva that slowly drooled from her mouth as she slept. Melissa recoiled from that wetness in disgust. She squirmed and shuffled her body to move a few inches to the side where she could lay down her head on a dry part of the pillow. Her hands and feet were almost numb, shoulders, elbows, and knees burned as if they were on fire.
It must have been morning time as she could hear a lot of muffled noises outside with the distinct clanking of the prisoners’ leg chains being the most prominent. Minutes passed slowly. Just as Melissa was about to break down and start sobbing in desperation, there were footsteps approaching her cell and pretty soon the door as well as the interior bars were opened to reveal a tall guard, young and handsome this time, making his way inside.
“I am sorry it took so long.” – said the guard – “There was a work order to release you a couple of hours ago, but some high priority stuff came up and we are just now trying to get up to speed.”
Melissa laid her pleading eyes on the guard hoping that he would just go on and hurry up releasing her. This was the first time since her incarceration where she felt truly glad to see one of her jailers. His presence meant a chance for relief from the suffering she’s been experiencing. Indeed, the guard proceeded to unlock her leg irons from the pole on her back, then unhooking her wrists and the collar from her neck. He even took off the handcuffs and leg irons leaving Melissa entirely unrestrained.
“Owww” – cried the girl as she brought her arms in front of her body for the first time in a few hours. The numbness was just wearing off and the onslaught of blood coming back to her limbs made for an incredibly intense and painful sensation. Melissa moaned audibly several more times as she flexed her joints, breathing deeply to try and contain the pain.
“Good.” – said the guard. – “I’ll leave you unchained so that you can recover. Make good use of this time.”
After the guard left, Melissa kept lying on her cot for a while; face up, blissful and content. The bunk beneath her was made of unyielding steel, yet it felt more comfortable right now than the fancy mattress at her posh apartment ever did. Maybe for the first time in her life, Melissa began to understand that happiness is relative, and that the absence of suffering in a human being’s existence can make it difficult to fully appreciate its good sides.
The next few hours passed without any drama. Boredom was settling in for Melissa until the latch at the bottom of the door was opened and an unseen guard slid a book through the opening. This was saving grace among these gray stone and concrete walls. Melissa took the book and sat at the little table. She began to devour the book, enjoying the written word as she never had before. The numbness of senses brought upon by her isolated confinement was easily pushed away and she immersed herself in the story. Like all of her assigned reading so far, this book also portrayed a strong male hero whose path in life was that of integrity and strength reinforced by positive attention from feminine, charming, yet modest women. Thinking back and reflecting about her own life, Melissa could see many contradictions. She was driven, ambitious, and goal-oriented. All of those things were good. Yet there was also a hefty load of vanity, a sense of superiority – especially in relation to men, and a strong notion of security from all the grievances of the world. Even as ICBG prisons began to pop-up all over the country in the last few years, Melissa thought it unfathomable that she could fall victim to this wave herself. Yet it happened and it hit her with full force of its vengeance. Melissa regarded her wrists, which bore some chaffing marks from the handcuffs. Curiously enough, despite spending many days almost constantly chained up, there was a remarkable lack of after effects and the chaffing just came up after last night’s, by the guard’s own admission, overly severe restraint regimen.
Melissa continued her reading for a couple more hours until a guard came to retrieve her from the cell. She was put in the regular transport chains, handcuffs, leg irons and a connecting chain looped around her waist. As she exited the cell, her face lit up a bit. She was going to be put in a coffle with Selena and Amanda again. Both of the girls threw fleeting glances in her direction, coupled with reassuring smiles before they were forced to face the direction of their march. The guard fastened a collar about Melissa’s neck. She was the last girl in the coffle; Amanda was in the middle and Selena at the other end. The girls were marched out of the cell block by yet another anonymous guard. Melissa kept wondering how many employees there were at ICBG. Some guards were familiar to her by now, but new faces just kept cropping up.
The girls were taken through narrow corridors directly into the shower area. Melissa knew it already. She has been brought here three times so far during her incarceration. The routine was always the same. The girls were brought up to the middle of a large, tiled room and handcuffed wrists were attached to a pulley hanging off from the ceiling. Looking down the elongated interior of the room there was a whole series of such pulleys, evenly spaced, which served as attachment points for the chained hands of pretty inmates. As soon as all three prisoners were in position, the guard pulled in turn on each of the girls’ chains, which were fastened to cranks in the wall, and raised them up sufficiently to force them to tiptoes. Having finished the preparations, the guard left without a word.
“How are you sweetie?” – whispered Amanda turning her head towards Melissa.
“I am fine now, but last night was a complete nightmare. I don’t even want to talk about it or I am going to start crying.”
“It’s ok. Let’s not talk about all this depressing stuff. Have you finally gotten any positive attention from some handsome guards?”
“No! I mean, there is this strange thing going on with the prison director…”
“What? You mean you get to see the director of this place? How?”
“Well, it’s… complicated. Never mind. I have no idea what’s going on.”
“You’ve really made me curious now. Do you have anything better to do right now then to tell us?”
“I will tell you, but please, not right now, I am just a little depressed and…”
Melissa went silent mid-sentence as she heard footsteps approaching the shower area. Pretty soon, two black women, early middle age and very similar in appearance came into the tiled room. The two sisters, being siblings as betrayed by their facial and figural similarity, went about their task with practiced efficiency. They were dressed in grey uniforms and black rubber boots. Additionally, they each put on a pair of disposable gloves as they made their preparations. One of the sisters made her way towards the wall behind the chained girls’ backs and picked up a hose, which hung suspended in convenient fashion through the means of a metal holster. The other picked up a brush, affixed at the end of a metal pole, maybe a yard in length, and poured a measure of liquid soap onto its bristles. The woman equipped with the hose turned a knob in the wall and engaged the pressurized water system culminated in her hand-held nozzle. She directed the stream against the girls’ bare backs drenching them in rather chilly water. Melissa recoiled at the thermal shock inflicted upon her delicious young body and she could hear Amanda and Selena yelp frustratingly in response to the same treatment. As unpleasant as the initial reaction made it seem, the girls quickly adjusted to the situation and began appreciating the fact that their bodies were being washed after days of stifling confinement in tight cells and restrictive chains.
Melissa, stretched onto her toes, allowed her mind to focus on the pleasant sensation of water hitting her exposed posterior. The relaxation was short lived however as she soon had to face the humiliating aspect of being washed by another person. The brush-wielding sister approached her from the front and began to unceremoniously scrub Melissa’s body from top to bottom. There was little doubt in the fact that the cleaning process was not designed to protect the prisoners’ dignity. The staff member carried out her duty in the same manner as if she was cleaning a faceless window. She was obviously settled in her routine and carried it out without a semblance of emotional attachment. She steered the brush against the prisoner’s stomach and breasts, the moved down to the legs even going as far as running the brush against the strained soles of Melissa’s pretty feet. …Then came the tough part.
Showing only a touch of satisfied glee, the woman brought the brush up to Melissa’s face and rubbed it against her delicate skin in a rather brusque manner. Melissa turned her head from side to side several times, but there was no escaping the humiliating procedure. It was only a partial comfort to put up a fight, but she eventually had to relent. The prison employee took Melissa’s chin in her hand and held it steady facing directly forward. The brush went right back to the chained girl’s face and ran up and down causing her to hold her breath as her mouth and nostrils were invaded by the tickling bristles.
The last part of the procedure made Melissa thankful that she was the first in line to be washed. The ebony woman brought the cleaning brush between Melissa’s legs and scrubbed her private parts with the same measured thoroughness that she applied to the rest of her body. Finally, she walked around positioning herself behind the chained wench and put a few finishing touches by channeling the brush between Melissa’s beautiful ass cheeks. No sooner than having finished this task, the guard moved to the next girl, Amanda, and proceeded to work her over in exactly the same manner. Amanda was always far more compliant than the two girls on either side of her so she took the procedure with expectant, resolved surrender. Not even the fact that the cleaning brush recently left the cleft between Melissa’s butt cheeks made her recoil at it being run against her sweetly innocent face.
Selena, being the last in line, had to wait for her turn in disdainful anticipation. She’s been an ICBG prisoner for more than half a year, resilient and strong headed by nature, she had to summon quite a bit of inner strength whenever she was subjected to humiliating treatment, which in this place meant many times a day. Most onlookers would have perceived her as perfectly stoic while the cleaning brush swept across her face, the exposed breasts and the coveted area between her legs. Only a slight blush on the cheeks could betray an internal battle she had to fight in order to stay collected.
Finally the ordeal was over. The girls were let down from their strenuous positions and joined back at the necks into a coffle. They were led into a small adjacent room and as usual made to sit on a cold metal bench that ran alongside the wall. The two sisters left without a word and the only acknowledgement for the chained girls’ presence was a slap on the face Selena received from one of the sisters as she was walking past her towards the door.
“I hate this so much!” – exclaimed Melissa as soon as the doors closed. – “Why can’t they just let us shower ourselves? Even if were to do it chained up, it would be so much better.”
Selena looked at her half-sarcastically, half-mournfully: “You know why they do it. First of all it’s because they can and also because it’s much more humiliating for us when done in this manner.”
“I don’t see how it can reform me or make me pay for some fabricated sins against the male-kind. If anything, it just makes me angrier. I’ll make sure to pay them back double when I get out of here.”
“If…” – threw in Selena.
“What if?”
“I think it would be more precise to say: if I get out of here. I mean you, me or Amanda. Do you think that they will ever let us out?”
“What do you mean?” – Amanda and Melissa cried in unison.
“Well, my assessor has already told me that I stopped making progress and that if I continue that way, they will file a report petitioning to have my sentence extended or even be served a completely fresh sentence of a longer duration. I tried to understand what exactly did I do wrong as I make sure to obey every order without hesitation, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t give me anything specific. No wonder! I didn’t do anything wrong! It’s all made up…”
“Please Selena! Don’t say that!” – Amanda was already in tears.
“I really hope that I am wrong, we’ll probably get out of here someday, but it could be much later than we think. Sorry if that sounds harsh; I just prefer to be realistic.”
“You may be right.” – said Melissa – “I was convicted of some complete BS that didn’t make any sense so if this ‘justice’ system could do that – they can do pretty much anything they want.”
The conversation died out and the girls contemplated their fates in silence until a guard showed up to retrieve them. They were marched back into the cell block area and pretty soon they were confined in their familiar cages, feeling high-strung on the uncertainty that the future may bring. Indeed it was tough to face the mind-numbing boredom of being perpetually locked in bare concrete cells, feeling as if the whole world forgot about their existence while just weeks or months earlier, there were hordes of men ready to worship the ground touched by their feet. There was helplessness in the fact that there was nobody to appeal to for justice. The ICBG machine always rolled on with unrelenting, meticulous tenacity against which there could be no contest or even complaint. The pretty girls caught in its iron vice were as helpless as kittens.
That afternoon Melissa was taken out her cell again with her handcuffs locked behind her back. The positioning of restraints gave her an indication of where she was going and her hunch was soon confirmed when the guard led her to the prison director’s office. Her throat went dry in response to what was about to transpire and she swallowed saliva with difficulty. Soon she was on her knees facing the director’s hardening manhood.
“Hello Melissa! I haven’t seen you in two days! I know that there were things that made it impossible for you to be brought here, but I have to say that time has been dragging on. Even today I had to wait till the afternoon. Well, no matter, how are you doing?”
“I am fine.”
“You’re fine? Come on Melissa. I need you to speak to me. I am doing you a big favor just by talking to you. You do realize that I could just have you hung by your ankles and whipped till you’re unconscious?”
“No… I don’t, I mean…”
“Well, I am very fond of you Melissa, but you have to always be very straight with me. Answer my questions and do it with utmost honesty.”
“How can I answer your questions when I know that doing so will lead to punishments for me? I have no choice but to pretend. I’ve been doing that since I got here and it’s been very unnerving.”
“That’s a little better, Melissa. Somewhat foolhardy, but it seems in line with your over-inflated ego. I told you before that I looked closely into your file and I think that you can be remade into a fine young woman despite a mountain of challenges ahead?”
“What do you mean!? What have I done that’s been so terrible? I heard in the courtroom that I am being punished for my beauty, more or less, which is obviously a crock. I never did anything that’s against the law. This is some madness!”
“I like that you’re speaking frankly with me. Unfortunately I am a little short on time so we’ll have to continue this chat tomorrow morning. Now, put those sweet lips to work. I missed them very much!”
The director put both of his hands around Melissa’s head and brought her slightly opposing lips to the tip of his manhood. As agitated as she was on a logical level, Melissa’s body betrayed her and quickly shifted to a state of rather lustful sexual anticipation. She was a woman after all and like all members of her gender, she responded strongly to displays of genuine masculine dominance. The sensation of her mouth being penetrated was not unpleasant and she found herself working a little more feverishly at her task than her modesty would have liked. The climax came rather soon. No doubt the director has been saving his energy just for this encounter, which gave Melissa a fleeting sense of a grudging pride. He waited just for her.
“Guard! Please escort Melissa to her quarters. And give her a glass of water… she did a good job here.”
The guard smirked under his nose as he took the girl by his arm and led her out of the director’s office. Melissa noticed his reaction and instinctively pouted her lips while jerking her head the other way. The guard stopped abruptly and grabbed her chin in his hands bringing it to face him directly. An open palm face slap from the guard’s left hand left Melissa stunned for a second. She had never been hit so hard in her life… or more precisely in the past few weeks as nobody dared to abuse her physically before her incarceration. Her cheek stung like it’s been pricked by a dozen needles and the velocity of the slap made her ears ring. Even the guard seemed to be briefly perturbed at his outburst and made an awkward soothing motion against her reddened cheek.
After a few hesitant seconds, the guard regained his composure and took Melissa firmly by her upper arm again, leading her back to her cell. Thankfully the guard had enough presence of mind to remember to shift Melissa’s handcuffs back to the front before leaving her locked-up for the night.
Chapter 11
The next day started out with a predictable visit in the director’s office. He was as anxious for Melissa’s services as he was the day before, but apparently there were pressing matters he had to attend to so it proved to be a hurried visit without any undue chit-chat or banter.
As soon as Melissa rinsed out her mouth in the cell block corridor, she noticed that she was not being led back to her own enclosure, but down a different branch of the C-level lock-up area. A guard accompanying her picked up an iron collar from the floor attached to the right-hand wall and brought it up to place it against Melissa’s neck. He had to try a couple of times because Melissa’s blonde locks of hair were getting in the way as he was trying to get it affixed. Finally having accomplished the task, the guard motioned for Melissa to stand in front of him, with her body kept straight and erect and her eyes downcast.
“You are assigned to clean the floors of this corridor. I will bring you the necessary supplies and you will do your very best to make these floors shine. I do not want to see any stalling on your part – you are expected to work at maximum capacity until you are relieved of your duty here. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” – replied Melissa in a monotone voice that carried all of her frustration hidden beneath the surface.
“Hmm… I hope that you do. Make sure to move out of the way when guards or other staffers are walking by. You will be re-chained once in a while so that you can clean up other parts of this corridor.”
The guard walked away for a brief minute before coming back with the promised supplies. They consisted of a plastic bucket filled with cold water and a rather small scrubbing brush scarcely fit to clean the broad surface of the corridor. When the guard left without saying a word besides some incoherent mutterings, which to Melissa’s ears sounded as “hunts” or “riches”, she was left with a difficult choice. She was still on her feet, but in order to work on her task of cleaning the floor, she had to bend down severely or get down on her knees – neither of which offered any protection to her already strained dignity. She knew that she didn’t want to be caught sitting idly as that was certain to levy very harsh penalties. It was enough to recall the frequent sessions in the suspension room to abandon any notions of defiance. However, she didn’t want to succumb to cleaning the floor on all fours like some uneducated low-life trying to win a piece of bread.
The best course of action, she figured, was to get some work done while no one was watching and pretend to wash the brush in the bucket whenever someone was passing by. To her horror, she could hear, or even in some cases see through the peepholes, the chained figures of girls locked up in the nearby cells. They were all very pretty and in a couple of cases Melissa’s spine tickled with angry jealousy: how dare they look ALMOST as good as I do? There wasn’t much time for grudging comparisons though, as every couple of minutes, thumping footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor, sometimes accompanied by the soft patting of female feet and the loud clanking of leg irons, signaling to Melissa that she better look busy at a moment’s notice.
The next couple of hours were tedious and frustrating for Melissa as she wouldn’t allow herself to get indulged in the humiliating task of scrubbing the floor yet the threat of being found out slacking kept her on her toes for the duration. At one point, she nearly succumbed. The iron collar around her neck was starting to get heavier by the minute and it was a relief to drop down to her knees with her upper body hunched towards the floor, letting a significant length of chain to rest on the cold, concrete surface. She picked up the brush, drenched it in the bucket and started running it against the floor surface. The concrete felt cold and hard against her knees and the viewpoint from just a foot or so above the ground was unusual for a pampered girl. The corridor was quiet other than some quiet whimpers emerging from the peepholes of the scattered cells and Melissa could hear the echo of her own movements reverberating against the walls as she crouched on all fours laboring at her tedious task. Her cheeks were almost perpetually flushed now, feeling the intense embarrassment of being forced to crawl down on the floor like some lowly servant. The sensation was intensified whenever her back was turned towards the air vents running across the ceiling, which directed a stream of air to flow directly between her butt cheeks, causing an instinctive reaction to clamp up her delicious behind.
There were several other instances of guards passing beside her degrading predicament, but they were all engaged in their own business, throwing only fleeting glances at the chained female figure cowering down to the floor. Melissa kept feeling resentful against her situation, but slowly, sheer boredom made her question why isn’t anyone coming to switch her position. She cleaned nearly the entire floor surface accessible to her by the length of her neck chain.
The sharp clanking of high heeled shoes interrupted Melissa’s resentful thoughts. At once she felt annoyed. It was bad enough to be seen naked and chained by a bunch of horny guards, but it was even worse to be perceived by a woman who just a couple of months ago might have been rubbing shoulders with Melissa at a water cooler of a corporate building or competing in attracting the highest quality of men at a trendy local night spot.
One quick glance was enough to confirm her worst fears. The woman coming down the corridor, who appeared to be in her late 20’s, had the self assurance of a super model and the looks to match that attitude. Her sharp foot steps betrayed a deep seated confidence instilled by over a decade of putting men in their place – and always getting what she wanted in the process. Her hair was brown and curly, cascading around her ruthlessly sweet face in proportional dimensions.
Melissa was in the process of minimizing her humiliation by turning sideways to the upcoming person and pretending to be engaged in rinsing the scrubbing brush in the bucket when the loud noise of high heeled, female shoes suddenly ceased. The following silence was ringing in Melissa’s ears as her pulse quickened. Why did she stop?
Melissa slowly rinsed the brush in the bucket for the fifth consecutive time all the while having an acute sensation that the woman behind her is staring directly at her exposed anus and rejoicing in the humiliation of a once formidable competitor in the intricate art of female one-upmanship. A few more seconds passed and the woman did not move. It became untenable for Melissa not to acknowledge the presence of the only other person in the long corridor. She turned around with her handcuffed hands covering her vaginal area and threw the sternest look that she could muster at the intruder. Her gaze was instantly met with a confident, smirking, slightly sarcastic stare of a woman confident of her superior position. She held eye contact until Melissa involuntarily lowered her eyes in a submissive manner and then proceeded to size up the chained girl up and down, from her shackled feet, through the bracelets on her wrists, up to the heavy metal collar around Melissa’s neck.
“Kneel!”
The stern command assaulted Melissa’s ears and its meaning made her already flushed cheeks flare up in an even more severe degree of crimson. She hesitated for a bit, shifting from her right foot to her left time and time again debating her options. There was no escape from the situation and her feminine charms were useless against an opponent who wielded them with a (nearly) matching level of mastery.
“Kneel down!” – spoke the woman again. The tone of her voice was finely measured to deliver the smallest possible insight into her mental state. She would not allow herself to be plausibly accused of power tripping and neither would anyone deem her a controllable push over.
Melissa’s sense of self-esteem was in dire straits. There was nobody else around and the only witness to her humiliation would be the woman who ordered it. She may have been reduced to a level of a chained prisoner, but her beauty was intact and it still mattered a great deal. Carrying out orders from other beautiful women was an unthinkable travesty. One part of her mind told her to just get it over with and do what was required, but another caused her to freeze in hesitant anticipation.
“Is there a problem with your hearing that I should know about?” – spoke the brown haired beauty. She was smartly dressed in a knee-length cotton skirt and a tight fitting white blouse.
There was no further way to stall the situation and no exit strategy has presented itself so Melissa put a frown on her cute face, and dropped down to her knees on the cold, tiled floor. Her eyesight was now level with the woman’s narrow waist accentuated by her semi-transparent blouse, which made it possible, on closer inspection, to study the seams on her push-up bra.
“Kiss it!” – the woman brought her right foot forward. It was encased in a black pump with a closed heel and toe.
Melissa shuddered inwardly and her body was frozen dead in its tracks. She could not make herself stoop so low and engage in this dehumanizing procedure. However, she was in no position to argue, as was swiftly confirmed by her sexy tormentor who grasped a measure of her hair and pulled her face down towards the ground. Shiny black pumps were now staring in Melissa’s face and the pointy heels of the sexy shoes were within a tongue’s reach of her mouth.
“Hurry up!”
Melissa slowly brought her lips towards the leisurely resting foot. She involuntarily inhaled the scent of the woman’s lower appendage, which brought her nothing in return – there was only a whiff of some expensive perfume. Her instincts driving a hard bargain, Melissa decided to end this unbearable situation and pressed her lips against the top of the cute stockinged foot.
The woman was none too pleased. She allowed a couple of kisses to be placed on her foot and then threw her leg up almost kicking Melissa in the face. She walked off, taking the same sharp, measured steps with which she approached her previously and disappeared behind the corner leaving Melissa crouched up on all fours in a most awkward predicament.
It took about a quarter of an hour before a guard showed up and unchained Melissa from the wall. Despite what she was told that she would be chained to other parts of the corridor, the guard led her back directly to her cell and locked her inside without any undue hesitation.
Melissa tried to shift her mind away from this annoying experience by reading her assigned books, but the most she could manage was a couple of minutes worth of focus before her thoughts sneakily turned to the memory of her kneeling down on the floor with the tips of shiny black pumps just under her nose.
Perhaps a couple of hours later, Melissa was marched out of the cell and led towards the administrative section of the building. She was curious if the director wanted to see her again, but that was not to be the case. The accompanying guard led her to an unfamiliar office door. The guard’s polite knock was responded to with a soft female voice: “Enter!”.
For a moment Melissa was afraid that she was going to come face to face who the woman who gave her the ultimate power-trip treatment back in the corridor. The chained girl was briefly relieved that that wasn’t the case, but the reality didn’t present itself much better. Inside a spacious, well-lit and modernly furnished office, behind a glass-top desk on elephant-tusk legs, sat a young and very beautiful woman. She must have been in her early 20’s with shoulder length locks of blonde hair surrounding an angelically sweet face that carried an expression of both innocence and calm authority. She wore a pink, somewhat fluffy turtleneck blouse and a smart knee length skirt that ended just over black high heel boots on her feet. The woman kept her focus on the computer screen seated on her desk and occasionally plugged away on the keyboard.
The guard pushed Melissa inside and led her by the arm to the only piece of furniture in the room befitting a prison complex. There was a metal pole at the center, affixed to the ground, about three feet in height, with a ring at the top of it. The ring was attached in a similar manner as a knocker on a door. The guard unchained Melissa’s wrists from the front and restrained them in the back instead, adding a padlock to fix the chain between handcuffs to the metal ring. Melissa felt highly uncomfortable at this proceeding. Being led and manhandled was always a humiliating and humbling experience. The situation was now made worse by the fact that she was standing, restrained and naked, with her breasts jutting forward as if on attention, in front of this beautiful young girl. It made the blow to her dignity all the more severe.
“What does she want from me?” – thought Melissa – “She looks like she could be in high school or a college junior at most. Why do I have to stand here in front of her!”
The uncomfortable situation continued for a few more minutes while the young beauty kept herself immersed in her work without throwing even a fleeting glance at Melissa. This, besides her humiliating position, started to add to Melissa’s sense of annoyance; she was acutely aware of how her already large breasts were thrust forward as a product of her hands being chained behind her back. The guard who led her into the room remained standing off to the side, twitching his rather prominent mustache and lazily switching his gaze from Melissa’s cleavage to the boot-clad legs of the young woman behind the desk.
Melissa couldn’t stand looking ahead anymore so she started observing the details of her surroundings, anything to get her mind off of her position. The office was rather spacious and there were few items in it, which resembled typical administrative work. There were some cabinets containing decorative dishes and vases, some figurines of elephants and other animals. There were a couple of large plants in the corners and paintings on the walls. All of this actually proved very stimulating for a girl who spent the past few weeks in grey, featureless cells, staring at handcuffs joining her wrists.
“Stand straight and look forward!” – came a firm order from the guard.
Melissa jumped at the unexpected shout and reflexively reassumed a forward facing position. Even the lady at the desk briefly took her eye off the computer screen and took a quick glance at the prisoner before returning to her work. The woman’s fingers continued tapping at the keyboard, with brief interludes, for a couple more minutes before she accentuated the final few key strokes, slung the keyboard aside with some controlled vigor and turned her comfy, rotary chair towards the middle of the room.
“I am sorry it took so long.” – said the young woman in a soft, feminine yet authoritative voice – “I simply had to finish this report before 5pm. Fortunately it’s done now so we can attend to the matters at hand. Your name is Melissa, correct?”
“Yes.” – responded Melissa quietly through a lump in her throat, looking straight forward, but just above the woman’s head.
“My name is AnnaLynne Owens and I supervise all prisoner assessors here at ICBG. Your assigned assessor has unexpectedly quit her job a few days ago, which is why you were brought directly to me. Do you know why you are here?”
“No, I don’t…”
“It’s ‘No, I don’t, Madam’! Speak properly!” – shouted the guard.
Miss Owens made a calming gesture extending her palm towards the guard.
“It’s ok, Sir. I don’t like to be called “Madam”. It makes me feel dated. You may leave us alone now. I’ll call for you when we are done here. Thank you!”
The guard frowned a little bit at being admonished, but he was apparently under the spell of Miss Owens’ beauty, not to mention her clearly superior rank, as he promptly left the room taking measured, marching steps towards the door.
“Ok, Melissa, I received a complaint from one of my staffers that you were disobedient to her requests. She said that she had to repeat herself three times before you complied. Is that true?”
“Well, if you’re talking about what happened in the cell hall a couple of hours ago then I would say it’s not. She didn’t request anything reasonable from me that I could do.”
“It is not for you to decide what is reasonable and what is not. What did she order you to do?”
Melissa’s face flushed with suppressed anger as she pondered her response. Her clenched fists were white knuckled while her wrists tugged at the handcuffs.
“She told me to kneel down on the floor!”
“Ok, I understand that you may not be used to doing that, but it doesn’t seem very difficult to do. Did you follow her order promptly?”
“I did it pretty soon, not immediately, but soon.”
“Did anything else happen?”
“Well, there wasn’t anything… no, not really.”
“Well, think about it.” – said AnnaLynne – “My staff member also reported that you were slow to kiss her feet on command.”
“You know everything already, so why are you asking me!?” – blurted out Melissa and immediately became anxious of the repercussions of her outburst causing her to hunch her shoulders forward almost imperceptibly.
“Listen, Melissa, you are here to learn, first and foremost. I know you might have been told differently, but you are actually allowed to make mistakes. However, it’s important that you always put forth your best attitude. I can tell that you’re trying to overcome some bad habits… it’s just that you’re not quite there yet. I am contemplating what to do with you now. Let me see…”
The young beauty pulled back the keyboard of her computer and proceeded to type away for a few seconds. Melissa could see the outline of her slim, but curvy figure and the statuesque outline of her facial profile as she immersed in this work. There are hardly words to describe the jealousy and shame that a chained prisoner felt towards the presence of a free young woman flaunting her sexuality in such an obvious though casually understated way. Miss Owens turned her sweet face back to meet Melissa’s eyes.
“Ok, looking at your file, I see that you’ve been kept in level C so far and that you haven’t had any serious transgressions during your stay. A couple of minor admonishments from the psychologists are all that I see. I am tempted to just let this issue slide, but I’ve done it before and it usually backfired on me. So… let’s go for a compromise, shall we?”
Melissa didn’t know if the woman was really expecting an answer to this question so she chose to remain silent and wait. She felt the big lump in her throat that has been growing steadily ever since she was walked into this room choke her up almost to a fit of cough. Despite a very strong resolve to abstain from crying, fueled mostly by her intrinsic pride and strong self-esteem, Melissa could not hold back the tears that trickled out of the corners of her eyes. She took a couple of deep breaths to conceal sobbing contortions that gripped her chest and awaited being told her fate.
“I am going to increase your security level, meaning that you will be reassigned to be housed on level D. It will, however, be probationary and your status will be reviewed in just five days. As long as you display a proper attitude, and conduct yourself in accordance to the rules, you can be sure that this measure will be lifted. Do you think that’s fair?”
“Uhh, I don’t know what that means exactly. I mean, I think so. Will being on level D be much different from where I was?”
“It will be a little harder for you, I am sure. I can’t tell you the specifics right now, you’ll be briefed on the rules and restrictions when you get there, but it’s a general rule that you want to be closer to the beginning of the alphabet when it comes to your security assignment at an ICBG prison. Do you have any other questions?”
“No....” – said Melissa in a hushed voice. The lump in her throat made it difficult to speak. She understood that there was no real choice in the matter. Her fate was out of her control and at the moment rested entirely in the pretty hands of the young, ambitious overachiever, who was eyeing her with calmness unbecoming of the bizarre situation.
Miss Owens pressed a red button affixed on the left side of her desk and a couple of seconds later the doors swung open, precipitating the guard’s burly figure entering the office.
“Please escort the prisoner to the level D lock-up area. I will send them her guidelines in just a minute.”
The guard smirked at the side of his lips, unlocked the padlock locking the handcuffs to the pole, and grabbed Melissa by the arm leading her out of the room.
“Good luck Melissa!” – chirped Miss Owens as the pair were exiting – “I will be inspecting level D in a couple of days so I’ll make sure to pay you a visit…”
The door shut behind Melissa and the guard just as Ms Owens finished her speech. A couple of minutes later, Melissa found herself, still handcuffed behind her back, in an elevator boxcar riding down a shaft towards new lengths of despair. Every time she descended deeper into this hellish prison, it seemed as if a portion of her former life’s memories were replaced by this grim reality. The elevator finally came to a stop and the safety bars moved aside revealing a concrete-walled room with a large pulpit facing the entrance. The desk, though solitary, was solid and stout, occupied by electronic equipment in the shape of flat screens, status panels, keyboards, switches and levers. There were a couple of men dressed in dark green uniforms who monitored the various controls. As soon as the guard led Melissa into the room, one of the men took a glance at a screen in front of him and motioned the pair to stop.
“This prisoner was just assigned to be housed here. You should be getting instructions shortly.” – said Melissa’s guard.
“Acknowledged.” – replied one of the green clad men – “We don’t have the directives yet, but we need a few minutes anyway as the cellblock area is in lockdown and we can’t setup an entry interview for her. Put her in holding cell ‘C’. It’s behind you to your right.”.
The guard turned Melissa around by her shoulders and they were now facing the elevator entrance. There were three sets of metal doors on either side of the elevator, embedded in the wall. The doors were not much wider than school lockers and resembled them in appearance. Plaques with gothic style letters labeled the cells from “A” on the left to “F” on the right. Melissa soon figured out that the lofty description of these compartments as “holding cells” was a major euphemism. The insides were barely spacious enough to accommodate a slender girl like her in a standing position. Granted, her butt cheeks protruded backwards in a gravity defying way as did her breasts in the opposite direction, but the dearth of space afforded to her was still sickening and offensive to her sensibilities. Nonetheless, she was pushed backwards into the compartment with her face towards the locker entrance as the guard pressed the metal door to close with some practiced gentleness. The soft approach was a necessity in this case as Melissa’s breasts had to be literally squeezed inside for the door to close. There was a small, barred opening at face level, which now provided the only connection between Melissa and the outside of her tiny cage. She could see the guard who escorted her down to level ‘D’ entering the elevator and soon a mechanical humming sound signaled his departure. The figures seated at the desk continued about their business without paying any further heed to Melissa’s presence.
A few minutes passed before a couple of guards entered the room from the door on the right and retrieved a curvaceous blonde girl from the confines of holding cell ‘A’. Melissa was startled at the fact that there was someone else besides her in these tiny compartments. The room was so abjectly quiet in the preceding minutes that it was hard to believe that another beautiful female could be in such close proximity. The girl was handcuffed behind her back and shackled in leg irons in exactly the same manner as Melissa. The guards led her to the door on the right from which they entered just seconds ago. All was quiet again, after their departure, save for an occasional tapping of fingers on the elaborate keyboards and switches operated by the green uniformed men.
Melissa was growing restless and tired in her restrictive predicament. Objectively, she was in terrific physical shape having practiced Yoga and non-contact martial arts coupled with healthy eating habits in the past few years. However, the mental stress of her position and the unusual restriction of movement combined to dissipate her natural energy into a pitiable state of malaise. She never thought that her calves could hurt so much from the simple fact that she could not bend them under the weight of her own slender body.
Finally, a loud clank broke the contemplative mood. Two guards have entered the processing area and opened Melissa’s holding cell. The girl, exhausted as she was from her ordeal in the standing cell, was led straight through the passage into an adjacent room. Melissa stumbled slightly in her leg irons, feeling a bit lightheaded at being released from the tight confines. It took a few moments of focused recovery before she could begin to contemplate her new surroundings. The walls of the room conveyed a grim and gloomy picture of a featureless dungeon. Melissa found herself in a rectangular area lit by several lights affixed in the ceiling. The room was rather small and the prominent place was occupied by a wooden desk with a couple of strobe-capable lights focused against a solitary metal pole, this one extending up to about eight feet from the floor. Curiously, she was not led to the pole itself, but rather to the chain that hung off of a horizontal extension of the pole, a couple of feet towards the stationary desk. The chain was augmented by a leather collar, which looked brutal and ominous in the glow of a spot light.
The guard looped the leather band around Melissa’s neck and tightened it in the back. He made sure that the collar was just a little too snug for comfort and indeed Melissa found that her breathing had to be labored in order to satisfy the demand of her body over the constraint imposed by the collar. To make matters worse, the guard pulled on the length of the chain on the other side of the ceiling pulley and brought Melissa up to her toes, even forcing her head slightly to the side as that was the only position capable of accommodating the elevation of the collar without suffocating.
Melissa was forced to wait in this restrictive predicament for a few minutes before a suit clad man entered the room seating his burly frame at the seat behind the desk.
“Hello there, pretty lady! I apologize if your accommodation is a little bit uncomfortable, but I can’t do anything about that at the moment. What is your name?”
Melissa lifted herself just a little bit higher on tiptoes to alleviate the tightness imposed by the leather collar and managed to blurt out her name.
“Melissa. That sounds nice! You don’t need to know my name. It’s enough for you to know that I manage the level-D lockdown area and I make sure to have at least a quick chat with every prisoner that comes through this door. My goal is to ensure that you move back up as quickly as possible, although the outcome is inevitably up to your behavior and compliance. To put it bluntly, you will not like your stay down here. As much as you may have been surprised, outraged even, over your treatment thus far, I can assure you that it will get worse down here. Do you understand?”
“Why does everybody keep asking me if I understand?” – exclaimed Melissa. Her eyes were tearing up at this point and the lump in her throat was growing again, which didn’t sit well with the tightness of the collar.
“I have no idea what this place is… I just know… Will you please just let me out of here?!?”
“You know that’s not going to happen. I see that you’ve only served a few weeks of your two year sentence and your beauty quotient has been set extremely high, which pretty much takes away any possibility of an early release. You have to prepare yourself to serve the full sentence. It is, ultimately, for your own good.”
“Stop telling me what’s good for me! How can you possibly know? I’ve been doing my best to keep quiet and out of trouble, but I am tired right now! After all the things that I’ve been through and put up with, I am just being punished further. What more can I possibly do?!”
“Melissa. Restrain yourself or your stay here will be much longer than currently prescribed for you! You have lived a sheltered life and most of your outrage comes from the fact that you consider yourself above ordinary human beings. Your stay at ICBG is supposed to humble you, I won’t deny that, but most of the measures that are taken to control you are simply safety precautions, and in some cases they are specifically targeting long-term resocialization.”
Melissa, at this point, closed her eyes tightly and focused more on her labored breathing and aching foot arches than the pompous speech of the man in front of her. She was experiencing a slight nervous breakdown and all her will was bent on getting out of the situation. The interrogator took a few glances at the tortured goddess in front of him and realized that further conversation was useless. He called for the guards and soon two of them appeared in slick black uniforms. They unchained Melissa’s neck and let her through a doorway on the right side of the room.
The trio entered a hall, surprising in its expanse, consisting of a metal crate surface, with a solid floor visible a story underneath, and rows upon rows of rectangular hatches on both levels. Most of the hatches were tightly shut by steel doors, but a number of them, here and there, were gaping open to reveal iron bars right behind the sliding doors. As they were advancing through the corridor, Melissa could catch a glimpse of the interiors of a few of the open cells. Some of them were lit and others were dark except for the light emanating from the corridor, but in all of the “open” cells, Melissa could see prisoner girls in various forms of restraint and discomfort. To be more precise, she could see the girls in some of the cells, while the others were too dimly lit and passed by too quickly to spot the inhabitants, but imagination quickly filled those gaps. The most startling of the “exhibits” was one partially concealed in the darkness of the cell, only vaguely illuminated by the deflected lights of the corridor. There was an unmistakable silhouette of an hourglass female form in the far corner of the cell, but its appearance was very unusual. For starters, it appeared above the ground, suspended. The girl’s body was stretched, rigid, with arms by her sides, obviously restrained and forced to remain in this position. A chain extended from just above the girl’s head and up to the ceiling.
Melissa perceived the shocking image in a fraction of a second as she was being led rather quickly down the corridor. Just a moment later, she began to doubt her faculties especially as they seemed to have gotten past all of the open cells.
Now the guards veered left leading their prisoner to one of the sealed hatches. The door was unlocked by one of the officers through pulling aside a couple of heavy deadbolts. The interior revealed a small rectangular compartment, lined with gray painted bricks on the walls and nearly devoid of any furniture. There was a thin mattress in one corner of the cell, but the main focus was drawn towards an object that stood, or rather hung, in the other far corner. Melissa could no longer doubt her earlier scary impression and she shuddered with her whole body, her handcuffed wrists pulling apart painfully, and her breasts bouncing in accord with the motion. There was a metal contraption, painted black, molded in the form to contain a human body, hanging from a chain affixed in the ceiling. Its purpose was so ominous and so inescapably obvious that Melissa stumbled backwards before she was held in place, with anticipatory calmness, by the guards.
“Ok sweetie, this is your home from now on.” – spoke one of the guards whose voice mixed irony and indifference in tone – “You are expected to stay quiet while in here. You can see that you have a mattress to sleep on over here. You are allowed to lay down on it unless expressly forbidden. And over here, is your “other” bed.” – said the guard pointing to the metal contraption. “You will spend every other night in it starting tonight. You may also find yourself confined to it if you misbehave. We know from experience that pretty young girls go to great lengths to avoid it having experienced its grip even once.”
“A couple of other things you should know…” – said the other guard – “You probably know this already as they should have told you, but the orientation processes tend to be sloppy sometimes… You are not allowed to urinate or defecate outside of the allowed schedule. Twice a day, you will be given a bed pan and you can relieve yourself into it. You will have ten minutes to do it each time. The bed pans will generally be dispensed after meals of which you will also be given two a day…. Now don’t worry, you won’t starve here, you will also get a couple of portions of fresh fruit and vegetables, which we don’t count as meals. But those meals will not be followed by dispensing bed pans. Just so you now. Now, let’s get you settled here.”
The guards uncuffed Melissa’s wrists from behind her back, which brought quite a relief as her joints were protesting from being stretched for such a long amount of time. The relief was so great that she felt almost no indignation when her hands were chained in front of her and a set of light leg irons was placed around her ankles. The guards shut the steel bars confining Melissa to her cell and walked off to carry out other duties.
Melissa was left all on her own again. The events of the past few hours were draining so she desired nothing more than to drop down on the mattress and rest. This proved to be a good strategy for the next half hour or so until she woke up from a brief slumber, immediately startled and alert. There was no immediate need for attention. Her cell was semi-dark and empty and the corridor outside was quiet as well. For the hundredth time, Melissa was struck with the surreal nature of her predicament. She was sitting naked inside a small concrete cell, with her wrists and ankles bound by restrictive chains, and her body was on display for all those who had the authority to pass through these halls. The change from her former life was almost to incomprehensible to bear, yet as much as she shut her eyes and tried to wish it away like a bad dream, it would not go away. It was present in her surroundings and it was augmented by the chains that restricted her movement.
Chapter 12
Melissa spent a couple of hours in the gloomy darkness of her cell. There was a period that lasted no more than a quarter of an hour when the light came on, brightly illuminating her prison, before going off again. As long as it was on, Melissa couldn’t help but to stare at the frightening device, which hung just a few feet from where she sat. The rigidness of its structure, and the maliciousness of its purpose, was as dreadful to behold as it was impossible to ignore.
Eventually, a sound of booted feet could be heard that slackened the pace and grew louder near Melissa’s cell and a tall silhouette could be seen against the brightly lit backdrop of the corridor. A guard opened the lock mounted on the steel bars of Melissa’s enclosure and walked towards the girl still curled up on the thin mattress lining the corner of her cell.
“Stand up!” – came the order.
Melissa got up to her feet in a deliberately slow way in order to exercise even the tiniest bit of control over her fate that could be reclaimed in her miserable position. The guard took her by the arms and straightened her out by pushing her shoulders backwards. Then he cupped her chin in his hand and moved it from side to side several times. Melissa was trying to breathe deep and stay focused within herself. It was unspeakably annoying whenever she was manhandled in a similar manner and it took tremendous self control to remain stoic about it. She would have blown up many times before, but ICBG was very intimidating in every respect and even a spoiled, pretty girl could sense that being petulant was going to prompt swift and intense punishments. As ashamed as she was to admit it, even to herself, she was subjugated to her jailers’ whims, even if there was still a fiery personality behind the abiding exterior.
“Do you have any physical pain that’s troubling you right now?” – asked the guard.
“No…” – said Melissa instinctively, it was a bit strange that a guard asked about her well-being – “My wrists and ankles are hurting a bit.” – she added as to not sound so agreeable.
“That’s normal given that you are restrained. You are fit for nightly immobilization then. There is one main thing you should know about this procedure. If you appeal for help, it will be administered to you very quickly. However, if it is found that you were simply seeking some superficial comfort, and not fallen on dire straits, it will result in some very severe repercussions. You will not be trusted again… it’s the ‘boy who cried wolf’ type of thing. The best thing for you is to be quiet and obedient. Let’s get you ready now…”
There was a length of chain protruding out of the wall near the suspended metal cage and the guard manipulated it now and fed the chain upwards in such a way that the mechanism unlocked and allowed for the cage to be lowered down on the floor. It laid down on the ground slowly albeit loudly and the guard proceeded to open the padlocks affixed on the left side, three in total, and opened the hideous contraption by lifting the top half on its hinges. The interior of the device was now exposed and menacing. The guard took Melissa’s hands and proceeded to remove her handcuffs. He also knelt down and took the leg irons off her ankles, obviously savoring all the physical contact he could make with the pretty legs of the captive girl.
“Lay down on your back, right here.” – the guard pointed to the interior of the device.
Melissa hesitantly stepped into the metal framework. The metal bands comprising the device were rather harsh on the soft soles of her feet, which hastened her approach. She laid down on her back as ordered and the guard lifted the heavy front portion of the device. The metal bands pivoted in Melissa’s view and stopped just short of her body. There was one metal rod that went just underneath her chin and another that fit snuggly below her breasts. In fact, the guard had to lift her mounds ever so slightly so that the cold, unyielding metal could slide clear into place. The padlocks were soon affixed at the sides to join the two halves of the device. The guard pulled at the wall-mounted chain again and the contraption began to rise upwards. With a goose-bump inducing screech, the device dragged along the floor until the bottom portion, just below Melissa’s feet, cleared the floor and the whole apparatus was born by the chain connecting it to the ceiling mounted pulley system.
Melissa found herself swaying gently back and forth while being totally immobilized. Her wrists were chained down at her sides and her feet were held by manacles locked around her ankles. Her posture was rigidly straight as mandated by the device that held her lovely body. The guard eyed her up and down several times, no doubt trying to imprint a memory in his mind before he moved on to more tedious tasks of his daily routine. The suspending chain was locked in place and the guard stepped out of the cell locking the metal barred door behind him. Melissa was now left alone to her devices although obviously there was very little that she could actually do. Her body was held in a rigid position and even after a couple of minutes she could feel that it was wholly unnatural to not be able to flex her leg or bend her back, motions that were limited, but not made impossible by her usual wrist and ankle restraints.
The metal rod underneath Melissa’s chin felt particularly insulting. It dug into her throat, being pushed quite a ways against her tender flesh. It held her head pointed forward and any side to side movement was precluded by the metal bands that encircled her whole body on a vertical measure. The whole contraption resembled a medieval Iron Maiden except that there were no metal spikes inside and the whole device was made as open as possible while maintaining the firm grip on the unfortunate prisoner pinioned inside. There were elements on the device that unambiguously suggested that it was meant to be used on females; for example the adjustable iron rods in the chest area to accommodate the different breast sizes, also the protruding hips and buttocks that could only be filled by a well defined female hourglass figure. The rigidness of her bondage made Melissa’s emotions swell up in vengeful disdain. She was never patient with things or persons that impeded her progress in life and it didn’t take very much to awaken her incendiary mechanisms. Once or twice she strained her body against the merciless structure, but the futility of those efforts was duly noted by the feeble, clanking sounds of metallic elements that comprised her tiny enclosure.
Momentarily, a sense of surreal cognizance has infiltrated her thoughts once again. She was naked and chained in a small dungeon, detached from all that she knew in her sheltered life, humiliated beyond belief, deprived of basic privileges that she came to know as intrinsic. Her back was pressed strongly against the cold hard metal running along her spine, and the rod pushing her chin forward made swallowing more difficult then usual. Any abrupt movement sent her body into a gentle sway that was infuriating in its momentous meticulousness and exasperating to the extent that it was beyond her control.
Her distressed nervous system was stretched thin, her patience running out, and the stilted powerlessness of her position was exasperating. She was held so effectively in her bondage, that any notion of escape or even relief was simply improbable. Her pretty feet rested on specifically prepared surfaces at the bottom of the contraption and her vaginal area was supported by a flat yet narrow band of metal that ran between her legs. Her private juices were slowly leaking out onto this plateau, which immediately would have made it an object of desire for men the world over had they been given access to this small enclosure. Incapable of physically removing herself from the restraints, Melissa retreated into the refuge of her memories.
Chapter 13
The afternoon was sunny and serene in the south-west suburbs of one large and affluent metropolis. Manicured lawns and expensive cars in the driveways were a dead giveaway that the occupants were not short on material wealth. A red brick house with five frontal windows on the much coveted River Woods road was basking in the sunlight of an awe inspiring, late-spring day. Melissa was laying down on the plush and flowery surface of her bedding sheets, keeping her attention on the screen of a laptop. Minutes passed by quickly as she was engaged in talking to one of her best female friends about a whole series of seemingly unconnected topics. The one that caught her attention the most had to do with a couple of men that she and her friend had met the night before. The guys were both dashing and handsome, educated in competing Ivy League schools, which was a constant source of playful rivalry between them. They were entertaining and worldly, which Melissa found refreshing in comparison to the drudgery of typical males she came in contact with. She had trouble finding men living up to her standards despite the fact that she carefully chose to attend the most exclusive hang-out spots that she could get into, and given her stunning looks, there were few doors that remained closed to her. The recollection of last night provided for an animated topic of conversation for Melissa and her friend.
“I like the fact that they didn’t behave like pompous asses while trying to get our attention.” – said Melissa. By now, the conversation has switched from instant messaging to a Skype video call. “I am so tired of men who act like they own the world and pretend to be confident in our presence when I know that they are shaking in their trousers while trying to impress us.”
“I know!” – replied Paula – “They always think I can’t tell that their voice is quivering because they speak as loud as they can, and give high-fives to everyone around. I hate this phoniness. At least these guys yesterday were capable of having a normal conversation and not doing some rote seduction methods that they memorized and bring up on every occasion.”
“Lol, exactly. The funniest thing is that some of these guys try to talk to me again after I turned them down, acting like old pals, but they hit on me with the same exact lines and stories as before! I guess it’s all the Martinis they drink for courage that cloud their minds. I laugh in their faces when that happens, but it is a little bit insulting. Don’t you think?”
“Well, obviously. They think that if they hit on a hundred pretty girls then at least one will have a complete retard moment and cater to their primitive come-ons. There must be so many of acute cases of blue balls out there!”
“No kidding! Justin and Chris had a couple of bad moments, but I think we can give them the benefit of the doubt. As long as they pamper and spoil us, obviously. I will not settle for any less than five genuine compliments tonight!”
“Perfect. So where do we meet and when?”
“Well, they wanted to meet us at 8pm so let’s get there about twenty minutes late. We can meet in front of the Crescent Moon. It’s just around the corner from the restaurant so we can plan our strategy from there.”
“Ok, girl.” – chirped Paula – “I always rely on your planning abilities. It works out well for me. I’ll talk to you later then. Oh, wait, I almost forgot to tell you who I saw at Borders today…”
There was a knock on the door of Melissa’s room, which diverted her attention from the conversation. Paula continued talking for a few more seconds, but eventually noticed her friend’s distraction and stopped in mid-sentence.
“Come in!” – shouted Melissa.
Melissa’s mom opened the door and leaned her head inside. She was a very attractive forty-something woman who seemed to avoid the ravages of time and take in only the finer aspects of aging like a quality brand of wine. She was a proud yet bubbly person who had the disarming ability to charm anyone who came in contact with her. Now, however, her face was a bit ashen and an expression of uncertainty shone through a composed exterior.
“I need you to come downstairs Melissa.”
Typically, Melissa would engage her mother in some casual banter, but she noticed that there was seriousness in her tone of voice, one that she hasn’t heard in several years, ever since she became too mature for childish follies. There was nothing in her recent exploits that would warrant any kind of scornful attention from her parents. In any case, she was wholly independent and the only reason why she stayed in the family house was the fact that she was biding her time finding a place of her own, and she was one demanding shopper. She did actually have an apartment downtown in the nearby metropolis, but she has already decided that it was too pedestrian and cramped for her tastes. Melissa got up and walked out of the room passing her mother as she exited.
“What is it mom?”
“Please just come downstairs. There are a couple of police officers downstairs who say that they are looking for you.”
“What? For me? What about?”
“I don’t know, Melissa, but they said they need to see you immediately.”
“God! I hope nothing bad happened to anybody.”
The mother and daughter duo of lovelies came downstairs just as the man of the house tried in vain to extract information out of the two stout, blue-clad police officers. Upon seeing Melissa, the officers shifted their attention to the approaching women. They quickly fixed their eyes upon the younger of the Gallagher women. Melissa was wearing a white tank top decorated with some delicate frills and a pair of dark grey cotton pants that hugged her body tightly around her hips and thighs expanding to wider bottoms. Her bare feet looked dainty and cute against the back drop of the granite tiled floor. The officers’ trains of thought were obviously stopped in their tracks for just a moment, but they were able to snap out before the situation got overtly awkward.
“Melissa Gallagher?” – asked the elder of the two policemen.
“Yes.” – said the girl, paying attention to keeping her voice steady.
“The ICBG council has decided that you are to be detained in preparation for your trial. It is likely to take place in a couple of weeks.” Melissa’s eyes grew wide in bewilderment and she could feel her heart rhythm accelerating rapidly while the officer continued.
”You will hear the charges when you are brought in front of a judge. In the meantime I can only tell you that the indictments against you are severe enough to necessitate detention. Mr. Gallagher …” – said the officer addressing Melissa’s father – “we might all want to sit down for a bit to discuss the details.”
“Ok, officer. Let’s go to the dining room.” – despite the anger and tension that he felt, Mr. Gallagher decided to play the part of the strong, reasonable man.
“What are you all talking about?!” – shouted Melissa. “What is this?”
“Miss! We are under orders to notify you of your indictment. Trust me, it’s not the most thankful task that we get to perform, but somebody has to do it. Just calm down for the moment and let’s take this slowly.” Mrs. Gallagher, who was about to hush her daughter down, now turned reproachfully towards the officer who dared to take that task upon himself. Under normal circumstances, she would never allow anyone to talk down to her daughter, but she sensed that an aggressive retort would do more harm than good at this moment.
“It’s ok, Melissa, we’ll get this straightened out.” – said Mr. Gallagher in a soothing manner, although his inner feelings resembled a hurricane crushing ashore.
The whole party proceeded towards a large and well lit room, which was seldom used other than for decorative purposes and during large family assemblies. Melissa walked along with the others, feeling uneasy and frenetic from anxiety though trying to maintain her composure at least externally. The experience was similar to the times when she forgot her homework at school, only multiplied by an order of magnitude. Soon the Gallagher family, along with the two officers, was seated around an oval dining room table. Melissa was located next to the younger of the officers, whom she might qualify as handsome under different circumstances, but at this moment all she could feel was an unusual sense of intimidation. It was a rare experience for her as most men were never in any serious position of power over her, quite the opposite actually, and it was more than a little unnerving.
“We have two basic options here.” – said the senior officer – “Melissa can either surrender herself right now and come with us or we can schedule a time for her to come in within the next three days. Now, the difference is that if she is taken in immediately, she will be presumed innocent… at least until the trial. If she waits, then she will be taken to an ICBG prison right away when she comes in. Obviously it’s not even an option to fail to appear at the specified date. So, take a minute or two to decide how you want to proceed.”
“Officer!” – Mr. Gallagher spoke up in a controlled yet tense manner – “Could you explain to us why exactly are you here? What is it that you claim my daughter did?”
“Mr. Gallagher.” – responded the officer sternly, but softly – “I only have an order to take your daughter into custody with an option of giving her an opportunity to surrender at a later date. ICBG does not operate in the same manner as the rest of the law enforcement and they are not very keen on explaining their reasons. I am afraid that you will have to wait a while before you get your explanation.”
“I am not going to let you take my daughter like some criminal unless you give me a very good reason!” – Mrs. Gallagher was reaching the limits of her patience as well.
“Please understand…” – spoke the younger officer, his deep voice sounding authoritative yet placating – “We are just here to do our job and there is nothing we can do to help you other than figure out what will be best for Melissa given the options.”
“This is outrageous!” – sighed Mr. Gallagher – “So what do you recommend that we do again?”
“It would be best for Melissa to come with us right now. ICBG prison is not a cakewalk and with some luck, your daughter will never get to experience it.”
“I just don’t believe what I am hearing! Heads will roll when I get to the bottom of this. I understand though that you officers are just doing your job so we don’t have much of a choice. I think that I would prefer for my daughter to remain home, we can come up with something in the meantime, but… what do you think Melissa?” – asked Mrs. Gallagher.
Melissa was sitting on pins and needles listening to this exchange. Her chest was tightened almost uncontrollably and she felt utmost embarrassment over the unfolding events. Several times she tried to say something, but every time the right words would not come to her mind or at least she could not make herself utter them. Finally though, she could not remain quiet any longer. Her self preservation instinct was starting to override the embarrassment over the situation.
“I didn’t do anything wrong! I never broke the law. I am staying here!.”
“Listen, Melissa. I’ve had the unfortunate duty of transporting quite a few girls from ICBG prisons to court in recent months and I know that the lock-up at our regular jail is a much better proposition. There is nothing to be gained for you if you stay free for two more days and the repercussions of that are not worth it.”
“What do you mean repercussions?” – asked Mr. Gallagher – “You said she has an option of self-surrendering in a few days.”
“That is technically the case, sir. But like I said; Melissa will then have to go to an ICBG facility and that implies much worse conditions. Besides, the ICBG facility will know that she refused to cooperate immediately, even if it was within her rights to self-surrender, and they will make sure she feels that they do not approve of that.”
“Ok…” – this time Melissa’s voice quivered a little as she spoke – “What’s going to happen if I do go? Now, I mean…”
“We will give you a brief explanation and you’ll have a minute alone with your parents before we go…”
As the older officer was speaking, the handsome young lawman pulled out a set of handcuffs from the holster at his hip and laid them on the dining table. Melissa was transfixed by the sight of the shining yet menacing object. At once she had a premonition of her wrists being placed within its confines and the impending humiliation threw her stomach into a tight knot. Before she knew it, her cheeks blushed a crimson red, even more so when the officer retrieved and placed on the table a set of slinky leg irons. The young officer noticed the girl’s reaction out of the corner of his eye and chuckled inwardly at her predicament. He loved these innocent girls who were so unaccustomed to anything less than affectionate pampering by everyone around. The idea of being placed in restraints because they couldn’t be trusted with their movements was completely alien to such spoiled and coddled girls.
“…then we will walk you to the van and drive you to the county jail.”
“Ok… I’ll just go now. Let’s get this sorted out as quickly as possible, but what are these?” – asked Melissa pointing to the chains on the table.
“Don’t worry Miss. These are just part of the standard procedure. Mrs. Gallagher.” – said the elder officer – “I would advise that you get some comfortable shoes for Melissa. Flip-flops would be the best because she will not be allowed to keep any closed shoes that could conceal contraband. That way she won’t have to be barefoot during her stay. Also, it will make walking in chains easier for her.”
“Listen! My daughter never hurt anybody or broke any laws!” – Mrs. Gallagher was growing impatient – “What is it with this country all of a sudden? I’ve heard about these prisons, specifically designed for women, but I thought they were supposed to house the criminal element! How can you possibly think that Melissa did anything against the law? And where is your evidence?”
“Like I already told you, madam. I am not privy to the charges against your daughter issued by the ICBG. I just need to know what your decision is.”
Mrs. Gallagher looked at Melissa with tenderness and alarm. Her daughter held her gaze steadily trying to convey reassurance as much as she sought it for herself, but the motherly heart was pierced with sadness and uncertainty.
“Ok, I’ll get some shoes for Melissa, but as Barry said, we’ll be looking very closely into what happened here. I really hope that you officers are not hit with any repercussions for what’s happening here.”
“Hmm… don’t worry madam. The ICBG is a very mighty protectorate. Maybe more so then we would wish ourselves, but on the other hand… it’s good to know that we are looked after until our retirement.”
Mrs. Gallagher left the room taking sharp, measured footsteps intended to accentuate her disagreement with the proceedings. Largely unaffected, the younger of the officers, seated next to Melissa, now got up from the table and took her by the elbow gently raising her from her seat.
“Please follow me!” – said the officer in the deepest, authoritative, yet most soothing voice he could muster. – “Stand right here with your face against the wall!” – he said, pointing to the empty space between the entrance to the kitchen and a wall-mounted oval mirror.
Melissa assumed the designated position though she felt the full force of indignity at the treatment imposed on her. It was humiliating to put her face just a few inches from a plain-painted wall and keep it that way simply because some random man, even if compelled by law, ordered her to do so. This wasn’t the worst of what was to come though. A few seconds later, the older of the officers walked right behind her back and stopped as if contemplating his next moves.
“Ok, young lady. We are going to get you ready for transport. Just stand as you are for the moment and don’t be alarmed. We are just following the standard procedure for this circumstance.”
The officer knelt down behind Melissa’s back and she could her loud clanking of chains behind her as they were dropped to the floor. She inhaled deeply a couple of times, which was a practiced exercise to relieve the stress in her Yoga classes, but it did little or nothing to relieve her anxiety at this moment. The prospect of being locked in chains was too traumatic to accept. All of a sudden she could feel the touch of cold steel around the backside of her right ankle and metallic ratcheting soon told her that her leg was now confined. Soon the same procedure followed for her left ankle.
“Turn around!” – the loud and decisive order snapped Melissa out of her reluctant procrastination – “Put your hands in front of you!”
Melissa almost felt regretful that it was the older of the officers who now stood in front of her placing the handcuffs around her wrists, but this silly sensation was immediately overwhelmed by the embarrassment of being restrained in chains in front of her loved ones. The officer made quick game of securing a chain around her waist, which he conspicuously concealed in his hands until now, and used a couple of padlocks to connect her leg irons to her waist and the loose end of the chain to her tightly affixed handcuffs.
Almost at the same time as the officers were finished chaining her daughter, Mrs. Gallagher arrived wielding a pair of white flip-flops that she knew were Melissa’s favorites. However, as soon as she saw the level of restraint that her little girl was subjected to, she broke down in tears and dropped her arms by her sides in futile despair. Mr. Gallagher quickly moved to console his wife with a youthful spring in his step although his heart was also breaking at the sight of his daughter’s debasement. The only difference was that as much as he tried, he could not repress the unmistakable twinge of excitement at seeing this marvelously beautiful girl, his daughter or not, endure her humiliating restraints.
“Ok Miss, all set. We will step outside so you can talk to your parents. Take no longer than five minutes and knock on the door when you are ready to go.”
The officers left leaving the Gallaghers standing around in a circle a few feet from each other. Both of the parents tried to avoid gazing at their daughter’s restraints even though they were, naturally, compelled to do just that. None of them spoke for some time as it was difficult to find the right words.
“This is pointless, I don’t like you seeing me like this, I’ll just go.” – said Melissa – “Please do something quickly so I can go home…” – Melissa’s voice trailed off as her throat constricted in a suppressed sob.
“Don’t worry Melissa. Will get all of this straightened out very fast.” – spoke her father, calmly as he could muster. “We’ll go to court right away and demand an explanation. But, is there anything at all that you think may be causing this?”
“You mean, did I do something stupid or illegal dad? Gee… thanks for having such faith in me! No, I didn’t do a slightest thing. I don’t know why this is happening!”
“It’s ok Melissa. I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I am sorry, I love you sweetie…”
Her father was still trying to console her when Melissa pivoted around on her shackled feet and reached out as far as the waist chain would allow to knock on the door. Only a couple of seconds later the doors opened and the officers took Melissa by her upper arms on either side, leading her towards the police van parked in the driveway. Melissa was shocked when the van’s door was slid open. In the space where a regular civilian vehicle would house the back seats, there sat an imposing metal box, all solid except for a small barred opening around the eye level. The younger officer opened the door of the box and helped Melissa up into the vehicle, which was made difficult by the chain hobbling her legs. She had to rotate her slender body in the tight space inside the box to be able to sit on the cold metal bench on the opposite side. Once she was in place, the officers made sure that no part of her body, clothes or restraints was sticking out and locked the door shut.
The sensation that Melissa experienced when the door was locked was surprisingly impressionable. It was a mixture of deep shame at being locked in a cage like an animal with a tinge of sexually charged excitement at being thus humiliated. The officers swiftly took their seats in front of the van, started the engine and pulled out of the Gallachers’ driveway drawing numerous gazes of the gossipy neighbors.
Melissa couldn’t see much outside of her tight confine as the only opening to the outside world was a small barred porthole in the door of her cage. Still, she felt surreal watching the everyday surroundings from such an unusual and unfortunate perspective. It grained on her heavily that she couldn’t simply ask for the vehicle to stop, get out, and go on her merry way. The severity of restraints applied to her suggested that she wouldn’t be let go quickly or easily, but that was a thought she did not even dare to entertain as of yet. Presently she thought she could hear a loud, clanking sound of a heavy duty lock, which was strange given that the van was still moving and there was no one in the back compartment of the vehicle. Melissa also felt an almost uncontrollable gush of saliva flooding her mouth and slowly starting to dribble through her lips. Suddenly, she awoke with a jolt and took a quick measure of the new-old surroundings.
Chapter 14
Melissa was still hanging in the tight grip of the iron maiden device. Obviously she dozed off while reminiscing and only the noise of her cell door being opened startled her from the uneasy slumber. Immediately, as she came back to full consciousness, the effects of the many hours spent in the cruel device awoke numerous painful sensations in her body. Her back as well as her leg muscles were filled with a dull ache caused by the long strain and she was drooling rather profusely due to the effect of the iron rod supporting her chin.
The device, freely hung off a pivoting steel hook, was positioned sideways to the entrance so Melissa couldn’t see the figures that entered her cell until they walked around and into her field of vision. First there was a guard who locked her up in the device the night before and then Melissa’s eyes fell on the feminine curves and immaculately sexy clothes of Miss Owens. She looked even better than Melissa remembered – once again she wore a smart skirt with a slit up the side of her thigh and a white cotton turtleneck coupled with an understated make up that made her natural good looks even more striking. Instead of the high boots, she wore an even sexier pair of strappy high heels on her slender feet. The guard was visibly distracted by the sight of his superior and couldn’t help stealing quick awkward glances at her exposed legs. Although keenly aware of the effect she had on men, Miss Owens pretended not to notice the guard’s stares, just like she ignored the advances of all her colleagues at ICBG who, despite the intimidation she impressed on them, still clamored for even a whiff of her attention.
Melissa also sensed the distraction in the guard’s behavior and quickly identified its source. She felt a prickling sensation of possessive jealousy flutter through her chest. It was outrageous that anybody could be enticed to even briefly glance at another female while in the presence of Melissa’s naked body. Through all of her adolescent and young adult life Melissa became accustomed to men who all but literally threw themselves at her feet and displayed signs of devotion that made it seem they would worship the ground she stepped on for the rest of their lives if she so much as gave them a glimpse of her cleavage. Still, deep down, she had to admit that of all the beauties she’d encountered thus far at ICBG, Miss Owens was genuinely the only one who could match her toe to toe on looks. “Try to look this good when you are chained, sweaty, and in pain!” – thought Melissa disdainfully eyeing Miss Owens’ effortlessly graceful pose as she stood in front of the suspended iron maiden device.
Triggered by Miss Owens’ casual hand gesture, the guard moved to lower the iron device to the floor. He let it descend only far enough so that the bottom touched the floor while the rest, along with the immobilized prisoner inside, remained vertical. Nonetheless, Melissa’s head was now within an arm’s reach of the guard who stepped around and unbuckled the straps holding the penis gag in her mouth. Melissa took a deeper breath as soon as she was able to move her mouth freely and could not help a slight tinge of relief show through on her face.
“Hello Melissa.” – said Miss Owens in her sweetly commanding voice. “I know that you’ve had a difficult night here. I was making the rounds and I really felt that I should speak to you. I know that you feel that your punishment to be sent down here is unfair, and I am sure that you’re even more convinced of that after last night, but you have to understand that your knowledge of the situation is very incomplete. I can see that you’re looking at me reproachfully even if you do not dare articulate it. It’s something that I could easily use to keep you down here for as long as I see fit, but I want to know that I am a fair person. Not lenient, mind you, but fair. I have learned through my own mistakes that you need to have a firm hand when dealing with prisoners, particularly when they are female, pretty, and entitled. That definition fits you rather well, wouldn’t you say?”
“What do you want from me?” – Melissa kept her voice as steady and dignified as she could. She didn’t want the immaculate bitch in front of her to draw any further satisfaction out of her humiliation.
“I want for us to develop a relationship, a professional relationship if you will. Believe me when I say that it is possible despite the obvious difference in status between us. You are an inmate of this institution and I am an employee indirectly responsible for your resocialization. While I am a free person and you are not, our goals converge in some key aspects. Let’s put it this way – I can do a lot to help you, and you can do your best to help me, which may or may not matter. Obviously the opposite is also true so keep that under consideration. Now, my first question to you is – are you willing to be a model inmate?”
“I… what do you mean?”
“I mean just what I said Melissa. You need to learn to give simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers.”
“Then… no. Not until you tell me exactly what you expect from me.” – Melissa decided to follow a line of defiance as she was increasingly determined to do in recent days.
“Please understand, Melissa. I don’t need to explain myself to my subordinates, and much less to inmates under my supervision. I am being very kind to you just by calling you by name and not your prisoner number as I should do if I was to follow the letter of the law. These are the things that you must learn to appreciate.”
“I don’t care about what you do. If you want to be fair then let me out of here.”
“Ok, Melissa. I see that you would rather be combative than make things easier for yourself. Nonetheless I will be patient with you, which I hope you will come to appreciate with time. Guard, muzzle her. Keep her hanging there for two more hours and then release her - provided that she causes no further problems. Understood?”
“Yes, of course, Miss Owens.”
Seconds later, Melissa was once again swinging helplessly, suspended in the iron maiden, and biting down in frustration on the thick intruder in her luscious mouth. It was a very effective lesson in patience. There was literally no way for her to release all of the pent up anger, not even the freedom to shout at the top of her lungs to discharge some of the anxiety and put an ointment to the gravely injured sense of justice. Having reached this point, Melissa suddenly broke down and started sobbing quietly behind her muzzle. Slight spasms shook her body causing the hideous device to rock gently on the suspending chain. Surprisingly, letting go of her frustration provided a significant sense of relief. Melissa suddenly understood, very vividly, that the world did not have to be fair to her, no matter how highly she valued herself. She always understood that fact at an intellectual level, but subconsciously she expected special treatment on account of her beauty and other virtues, whether inborn or developed throughout her life. Even the initial experiences at ICBG did little more than create small dents in the perception of her special lot in life. Letting go of those expectations didn’t come easy after a lifetime of entitlement, but the reality was too harsh and too corporeal to ignore. Relaxing in her bondage, perhaps for the first time since the incarceration a few weeks prior, Melissa had turned a corner. She didn’t know where it would lead to, but she had no choice but to follow the path laid out for her by those who didn’t necessarily had her best interest in mind. Engaged in her thoughts, Melissa didn’t notice that a guard has entered her cell again and she was startled at his voice.
“Ok, pretty lady! It’s time for you to get back on the ground!”
The guard was positively cheerful at having the opportunity to handle one of the prettiest prisoners at ICBG, even considering the overall high attractiveness level of the inmates at the facility. The iron frame was lowered to the ground and Melissa found herself horizontal for the moment until the guard unlocked the device and swung the hinged front open.
Melissa stepped out very gingerly, feeling uneasy on her legs. The hours of stringent confinement laid a heavy physical toll on her body despite the fact that she was fit and well conditioned.
“Ok, you can stretch out and get your joints moving again. Oh yes, let me get that thing out of your mouth.” The guard proceeded to remove the muzzle from Melissa’s face, but then reaffixed the handcuffs and leg irons.
The guard helped her stretch out within the confines required by her wrist and ankle restraints, which remained on as usual. He savored the touch of Melissa’s smooth, delicate skin and let his hands linger while holding her waist in a gentle grip. Nonetheless, a few minutes later the guard was gone, leaving Melissa alone in her cell again. She was back to the mundane existence of being surrounded by concrete walls and very little, if anything, to stimulate her mind.
The only slight deviation from the stillness and quietness of her prison came a couple of hours later when a guard passed through the corridor sliding small plastic buckets through the bottom porthole of each occupied cell. “Five minutes!” – shouted the guard periodically. Melissa looked reproachfully at the turquoise colored plastic object. She hated the fact her physiology was now controlled and regulated. Of the many humiliations that she’d suffered during her imprisonment this surely ranked high among the worst. The necessity of compliance was palpable. As there was no permanent toilet in her cell and any incidence of unauthorized urination or defecation was going to be swiftly punished, there was literally no choice but to be obedient. Furthermore, Melissa already a rather strong pressure between her legs and the desire to relieve herself was getting stronger by the minute. She squatted over the hideous object, trying to avoid touching it with her butt cheeks and thighs. A surge of relief cycled through her body as she relaxed her pelvic muscles and a thin stream of urine hit the bottom of the container. As soon as her bladder emptied (thankfully she did not need to have a bowel movement at this time, Melissa got up and disgustedly moved the bidet out of the cell with her foot. Since her feet were shackled with only about twenty inches of slack between them, she had to make a couple of shuffling attempts before the object cleared the hinged porthole at the bottom of the door. A couple of minutes later the guard was coming through the corridor in the opposite direction from before, pushing in front of him a couple of strange barrel-shape objects, strapped together and mounted on wheels. He stopped at every cell to pick up the filled containers and disposed their contents into one of the barrels. There was a hatch on top of this barrel, operated with a button, so that the time when the large container was open was kept to a minimum. The other barrel, half-filled with some strong disinfectant fluid, served as temporary storage for the plastic bidets. Melissa began to turn away almost sick to her stomach as the guard stopped by her cell, but even this unpleasant event served as a welcome break from the feeling of complete isolation.
The guard picked up the container with Melissa’s urine, took a peek at it before disposing it through the barrel hatch and then fixed his gaze on the chained girl standing in the middle of her cell, eyeing him with a mixture of perplexion and scorn.
“No spillage?” – asked the guard.
“No.” – responded Melissa, as defiantly as she dared to.”
“No what?”
“No… sir!”
“Ok, good, keep it that way.”
The guard continued on his way seeming rather unperturbed at the hideousness of the task he was assigned. It seemed that all girls managed to take care of their business in the short allotted time as the guard soon completed his rounds and the corridor outside Melissa’s cell was empty again. Melissa, on the other hand, was almost visibly shaking in helpless anger at what had transpired. She cursed the guard under her breath and despaired at the whole situation she found herself in. She felt a strong desire to tug at the chains binding her hands and feet, but the perspective of sharp pain from the metal cutting into her flesh stopped her in her tracks. Still seething in her frustration, Melissa sat down against a wall and started breathing deeply to calm herself down. Slowly she returned to the slightly lethargic state of apathy that seemed to overcome her due to the lack of sufficient sensory stimulation. It was something she hasn’t experienced before her incarceration, but then again a beautiful and wealthy girl from an upper middle class family rarely had opportunities to be challenged by excessive boredom. Several long hours have passed before the door was opened again
“Proceed to the cell door and then turn around!” – came a stark order shouted in a deep masculine voice. Melissa complied without hesitation looking ahead to anything that would break up the monotony of being locked in an empty concrete vault. The guard gave her a cursory pat down over her naked body, quite unnecessary from a practical point of view and proceeded to lead her out by her arm. Melissa’s tender feet made only the quietest of sounds as she shuffled, chain restricted, down the corridor. They passed through several hallways lined with cell doors before they came to a brightly lit, sterile looking area. The floor was tiled here as were the walls up to about eye level. Various kinds of medical equipment was scattered around the large room and the middle of the room’s floor was crated. Melissa’s eyes were immediately drawn to three chains hanging down from the ceiling. The end of each chain, some eight feet off the floor, was augmented with a large and sturdy metal hook. The leftmost of the chains, from Melissa’s point of view, held the weight of a nude girl suspended off the hook by the manacles binding her feet. The girl was hanging almost motionless, her hands handcuffed behind her back. Her skin was visibly wet and some water was trickling down from her matted brown hair and into the crated floor below.
Melissa had no time for further examination of her surroundings as she was led to the chain and hook in the middle of the room. Her restraints were briefly taken off before her hands were fastened behind her back and a set of thick leather cuffs, joined by just three short links of chain was applied to her ankles. The guard made Melissa lay down on the cold floor and pressed a button on a remote control box held in hand. With a metallic clanking sound the middle chain descended down until it was low enough so that the guard could pull on the links joining Melissa’s legs and swing it over the tip of the metal hook. The contraption, remotely operated by the guard, started moving up again, pulling Melissa’s body upwards until she too was suspended upside down.
The strain on Melissa’s body was considerable and her back started hurting almost immediately forcing her to contract her torso muscles to keep the extent of the stretching in check. Her head felt heavy and pressurized from the inflow of blood.
Meanwhile, the guard pulled a rubber hose from a wall-mounted hook and released a concentrated stream of water towards Melissa’s suspended body immediately drenching her skin. He focused the stream methodically around the hanging girl’s body, stopping a little longer at her genitals, her breasts, and worst of all, her face. This painful thankfully lasted only about a minute before the guard shot off the inflow of water and left the tiled room, leaving the two girls to cope with their predicaments.
Melissa felt panicky as soon as the guard departed because his absence opened up a very distinct possibility that her current torture would continue for an extended period of time. There was no possible escape from the visceral experience of her position, no option of retreating into her own mind to pass the time like she did while locked in her cell. She briefly wondered how long the other girl was hanging on her hook and she could tell by the strained expression on her face and tightly closed eyes that they both experienced similar level of suffering.
The time passed very slowly for the minds imprisoned in dangling bodies held in unnatural positions, but only a few minutes have passed before footsteps could be heard outside and three figures, one male and two female have entered the room. All three were wearing white medical overcoats and stethoscopes around their necks. They were engaged in conversation as they approached the two hanging girls and the lone man was presently speaking in a confident yet slightly subdues manner of someone accustomed to positions of authority.
“…and it affects the regions of the brain responsible for sexual arousal in just the right way to trigger reactions proportional to the dosage and very predictable in nature. At least that’s what we’ve observed so far in limited testing. We’ll continue our trials with these two specimens. We picked them from the enhanced security block of the prison after analyzing their hormonal balance. Basically, these two are as healthy and balanced, normal if you will, as they come. Their response to the drug will help us establish a firmer baseline for further testing of riskier cases.”
The man stopped speaking for a moment inspecting the hanging female beauties with an eye of a cool-headed professional. If the arousing sight in front of him caused any reaction in his loins, he concealed it well. He reached behind Melissa’s back and briefly measured her pulse at the wrist then came around and weighed one of her breasts in his hand.
“Yes, this one is the very definition of female. Everything is in place and of the finest quality”.
The two female assistants frowned ever so slightly at the compliment paid by the senior doctor. They were both modestly attractive, holding MD degrees despite being under thirty, and thought highly of themselves. However, regardless of how much they have achieved in life, there was still an abundance of typically female vanity in them and hearing another woman complemented on her beauty, stung at the very core of their feminine selves. They had to suppress any snide comments however, mindful of who they were talking to.
“Beatrice, please bring a speculum and two of those blue marked packages.” – said the doctor to one of the female assistance while pointing at the nearby table littered with medical supplies. The woman duly obliged.
“Now, see here…” – said the doctor taking position right behind the back of the brown haired girl. – “The application is very straightforward and it could be done orally or intravenously as well, but we are opting for rectal insertion to minimize invasiveness while achieving quick reaction time.”
The doctor inserted the tip of the speculum into the brown haired girl’s anal cavity while Melissa watched in horror from her inverted position. The spread of the speculum was widened to about an inch making the unfortunate girl wince in pain, discomfort and humiliation. The doctor opened one of the paper packages fetched by his assistant and retrieved a tube like white object about the size of a triple ‘A’ battery. He proceeded to insert the object into the girl’s anus and removed the speculum allowing her butt cheeks to close down around the intruder keeping it deep inside her.
“As you have no doubt guessed, the consistency of the drug was designed to work like most rectally administered medications. It will simply dissolve itself within a few minutes. Now let’s get the other one started.”
Melissa shuddered as she felt the cold tip of the speculum touch against the tender flesh of her cute butt. The doctor spread her opulent butt cheeks with his gloved hand to allow himself easier access and made quick work of inserting the tool, spreading its vices and locking them in an inch-wide spread. Melissa tensed up, her throat swelling and her eyes tearing up in emotional response. She could scarcely believe that all of this was happening and the experience was almost surreal. These people simply went about their business treating her like a mindless animal and gave no heed that she was a free person, equal to them in status, just weeks prior. Now she could feel a cold tube being inserted deep into her ass and lodged there firmly after the speculum device was extracted. The doctor resumed his lecture…
“The expectation is that the subjects will shortly begin experiencing growing sexual readiness. In the case of females, this manifests itself in vastly increased vaginal fluid production. At the same time, women seem to experience inexplicably strong attraction to their own genital odors, almost uncontrollable in its extent. This state lasts for about half an hour. It is possible to eliminate this side effect by lowering dosages so right now we are trying to find the tipping point where that happens.”
“Does the drug make women more appealing to men as well?” – asked one of the assistants.
“It does, in fact.” – said the doctor. – “The scent of vaginal fluids becomes incredibly stimulating under the influence of the drug, triggering instinctive sexual reactions, almost reptilian in nature. This is the fine line we are going to have to toe. The drug needs to be dosed in such a way as to be powerful enough to make noticeable positive effect, but not too powerful so that it overwhelms all rational thinking.”
“So far I don’t see anything unusual in their behavior.” – said the female assistant who remained quiet until this time.
“It takes a few minutes to take effect. Guards, please take these two back to their cells as quickly as possible. Follow the exact instructions I gave you earlier.”
The two guards who stood near the room entrance for some time now observing the proceedings operated the mechanisms that lowered the suspended girls to the ground. They replaced the leather leg manacles with regular shackles and led the girl out of the tiled room. Melissa was relieved to be let down and the coldness in her butt also subsided as the tube infused with the drug dissolved into the surrounding tissue.
The brown haired girl was led into a cell about three doors before Melissa’s while she and her guard kept walking towards her usual place of confinement. She was a bit surprised that the guard entered her cell and led her towards the left hand wall. The guard retrieved a length of rather sturdy chain from a sack hanging at his waist and looped its length around Melissa’s upper body. There was enough chain to circle her body twice, once above and once just below her protruding breasts. The guard tightened the slack of the chain with considerable strength making Melissa cry out in pain as the metal links dug into her flesh. Not only was her skin brutally pinched, but her chest was also constricted making deep breaths nigh impossible. The guard joined two links of the chain together using a padlock leaving about a foot hanging towards the ground. Not for long though as the guard picked up that slack and padlocked it in turn to a ring mounted in the cell wall.
All of a sudden the guard’s movements became somewhat frantic. Melissa could see that he inhaled deeply a couple of times, raising his shoulder blades, seemingly savoring the smell of the air. He retreated hastily and closed the cell door tightly behind him. Not much has happened for the next couple of minutes other than Melissa trying to shift around in her restrictive bondage, trying to find a tolerable position. Gradually though, her attention shifted away from the physical pain towards a pleasant and warm sensation permeating her body, spreading from her core out to the limbs. It was initially difficult to pinpoint the source of this sudden well being until the warmness in her pubic area became clearly pronounced. In just a few seconds, Melissa could feel a trickle of vaginal juices escape her mons and run down her thigh. She could also feel the liquids building up inside her much quicker than ever in a state of sexual arousal.
That’s when the fragrance hit her olfactory senses. And quite a blow it was. A sudden urge to taste the fluid between her legs became the sole focus of attention. She jerked in her chains, straining her body against the restraints, ignoring the pain it caused amidst the growing delirium. Some drops of her pussy juices dripped onto the concrete floor drawing Melissa’s attention like catnip does to felines. She tried to reach the floor by arching her body, craning her neck and gaping her mouth, but the length of the wall-mounted chain was insufficient to allow her to reach the fragrant nectar. She sighed and sobbed in frustration until a new thought occurred to her. She stumbled to her shackled feet and bent down at the waist positioning her backside against the wall. It required her to put her head down almost to her knees before her pussy protruded enough to rub directly against the concrete wall. Nonetheless, it worked. When Melissa turned around she was ecstatic to see the glistening traces along the wall. She dropped to her knees and eagerly lapped at her own feminine juices, disregarding any hygiene concerns she might have had in a normal state of mind. The taste was heavenly - soft and sweet with an indescribable aroma of secret, longing dreams.
Melissa laughed and cried at the same time, hunched up against the wall, breathing shallowly yet rapidly due to the chains tightly hugging her upper body. The sensations that held her mind in their grip have lessened gradually and a relaxed state of contentment permeated her goddess-like figure.
Chapter 15
Melissa was freed from the chain constricting her chest a couple of agonizing hours later and left in the cell with just the regular handcuffs and leg irons adorning her wrists and ankles. The remaining time of what she assumed was daytime was uneventful except for a meal, which Melissa had to consume, per regulations, on all fours by the cell door. The food tray was slid through the opening at the bottom and it had to remain there as it was chained to a bolt just outside. The setup was meant to humiliate and it served that purpose exceedingly well. Ravenously hungry, Melissa did her best to eat the food in a dignified manner despite having to pick up the bits with her fingers. The guards didn’t bother to provide plastic utensils and she didn’t want to push her luck by asking. Once the plate was clean, she pushed the tray outside of her desolate cage. There was also the routine restroom break and the poor female prisoners had to try to take care of their physiological needs as quickly as possible before the allotted ten minutes had passed.
At night, Melissa tried her best to position herself in a comfortable manner in order to be able to sleep. The guards ‘mercifully’ provided her a thin wool blanket that at least provided some cushion against the harshness of the cold, concrete floor. Melissa felt exhausted by the day’s events and the sheer force of boredom kept compounding itself. The strange drug that was administered to her has worn off completely by now or at least it seemed that way. Once she lay down on the floor with only a thin layer of fabric separating her from cold concrete, her thoughts wandered through a strange mixture of her present restricted condition and the former life as a free person. She found herself recalling a recent gathering with a circle of friends at a trendy downtown restaurant. Playing a comfortable and satisfying role of a social focal point, she exuded a cheerful disposition and shot-off frequent witty repartees. Gradually though, the memories became blended with inclement fantasies, her subconscious intruding upon the reminisced events. Melissa became aware of the fact that her friends, one by one, stopped paying attention to her words with their gazes transfixed on her chest. She looked down and noticed with a shock that she was sitting at the table naked and her hands were joined with a gleaming chain of steel handcuffs. In a typical dream fashion, nonsensical conclusions seemed to have perfectly rational explanations to support them. She wasn’t supposed to be there at the restaurant with her friends, she was a fraud who tried to hide her true status! “Now I remember.” – said one of her girlfriends – “You’re supposed to be in prison! Why didn’t you report this to us? Could somebody take her away please?” Melissa tried to protest, but there was an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. She was in the wrong and she knew it. The very next second, two waiters arrived and motioned for her to stand up. They led her into the back of the restaurant amidst quiet, approving murmurs of the patrons. Behind an “employees only” door, the restaurant opened into an expanse of corridors lined with cell doors. As they passed the very first barred opening, Melissa could stop herself from peering inside. Her gaze was met with the chilling sight of empty eye sockets of a human skull. A skeleton was leaning against the far side wall of the cell, the bones gray colored and completely devoid of flesh, as if it were ancient, shiny handcuffs joining its wrists. Startled, Melissa tried to recoil and halt her walk, but her handlers held her firm and led her towards the next cell entrance. She was steadfastly pushed inside and a loud clang communicated that she was locked inside.
The next day greeted Melissa with loud shouts of the guards as well as female inmates screaming their hearts out with ear piercing sounds. Melissa rose from her improvised cot and walked over to the cell entrance where the solid door was wide open and only the iron bars separated her from the outside. Now she could see why the other girls were making so much noise. The guards were hosing them down with a strong stream of water through the bars of the cell. Soon it was Melissa’s turn.
“Take your blanket and throw it out here miss!” – ordered one of the guards. – “Then stand in the middle of your cell on the grate in the floor.”
Melissa complied with the orders and soon she let out a loud scream herself as her body exploded in sharp pain delivered by the stream of pressurized cold water. Actually, as Melissa soon realized, the water was not all that cold, but the sheer force with which it hit her body translated it into a freezing sensation. The guards also threw a little piece of soap in Melissa’s direction ordering her to wash herself quickly and thoroughly. They watched closely as the naked beauty coped with her restraints while trying to apply the soap to her body. Another stream of water followed and washed off most of the foamy residue, leaving Melissa fresh and clean, though hurting all over her body. Some redness remained on her skin for a few minutes in the places where the stream of water hit her particularly hard for an extended period of time. After the cell door was shut, Melissa rubbed her body wherever she could reach in order to soothe the ache caused by the harsh bath she just endured.
The boredom of the tiny cell was palpable so she let her thoughts wander towards the times when she was free, careless, and happy. The isolation she had to endure enabled her to focus her mind more strongly than she ever thought possible. She was able to replay various pleasant events from her life just as they had unfolded and experience them at an almost visceral level. Unlike the dream from the previous night, it was relatively easy to control how the events developed. This newfound ability proved very valuable to her mental state as it relieved some of the encroaching depression that threatened to set her into full panic mode at any time. Still, she had far too much sense of reality to get herself completely lost in the world of day dreaming. Eventually she could no longer summon the visions of her past and the present predicament was all she could focus on. She stared with morbid fascination at her hands and the shiny metal surface of the handcuffs, the gleaming chain that only allowed three or four inches between the bracelets.
A few hours had passed before the cell door was opened again. Melissa has now become accustomed to the fact that any break in her isolation would likely lead to an even worse fate. Therefore, her heartbeat rose in nervous anticipation.
“Walk over to the bars and turn around. Keep your legs apart. Lean forward as far as you can!”
Melissa listened to the guard’s orders, shouted out in the typical authoritarian manner. She didn’t want to miss a word as that could easily lead her into trouble even if she didn’t mean the slightest insubordination. As she was about to turn around, she noticed that there were three or four guards gathered near the door to her cell, as well as the doctor whom she saw the previous day, and worst of all, Miss Owens looking stunning and elegant as usual with a typical aura of superiority showing through on her delicate face.
The doctor looked at Miss Owens with badly concealed admiration and leaned in towards her a little closer than appropriate as he spoke:
“This girl right here was subjected to a double dose of the medication just yesterday. Her reaction was predictable though a little stronger than anticipated. Not so much on her behavior, but in the effect that it had on the guard who brought her back to her cell. I examined him afterwards and both his body and his mind were very strongly stimulated. I am guessing that the natural attractiveness of this inmate, coupled with the efficacy of the treatment produces a truly explosive punch. I recommend that we never give her such a large dose again. She will receive a much smaller portion this time.”
Miss Owens scoffed just a bit at the mention of ‘inmate attractiveness’, but she was somewhat placated by the doctor’s clearly captivated stare. Her response was cold though.
“Please go ahead and do whatever it is that you do. I have to be back at the administration office as soon as possible.”
The doctor tightened his stomach in response to such a dismissive reproach, but obliged nonetheless.
“Inmate! Step over to the bars and turn around. Lean forward with your legs spread!”
The thought of Miss Owens looking at her exposed intimate parts was difficult to bear and it nearly brought tears to Melissa’s eyes as she complied with the order. She could feel the cool air brush between her ass cheeks when she bent herself at the waist, presenting a dream worthy view to the men and the woman just outside her cell. The doctor stepped up and reached with a gloved hand rubbing his index finger against Melissa’s vaginal slit. She could feel the unusual warmth that she’d already once experienced spreading from her private parts in all directions. A small dose of the drug, this time in ointment form, has been applied to her. Then the doctor stepped back abruptly. All of the men gathered in attendance could already feel the effect of the chemical, even from many feet away. Only Miss Owens looked on with an ambivalent eye, noticing with bemused curiosity how the men around her begin to breathe faster and more erratically.
As for Melissa, she could feel the sudden onset of sexual stimulation as well, but the extent of it wasn’t nearly as strong as the day before. She didn’t know whether the effect was lessened by the smaller dose applied to her body or by a buildup of tolerance, but it was no longer overwhelming. She waited for what seemed like eternity in the humiliating position. Irritatingly it was Miss Owens who finally gave her permission to step away and stand up straight.
“Ok. I’ve seen enough. It seems that there is far more of an effect on you blue balled men than on this girl. And that includes you, doctor. I also see nothing at this time that could be of real benefit to this institution. You may continue with your work until evaluation next month, but make sure that you’re careful. I want no ‘incidents’ of any kind, understood?”
“There won’t be any incidents. This is a precise operation and we’ve done meticulous planning. It vastly increases female sexual response, creating an almost uncontrollable urge. All we need to do now is to make sure that men are immune to the effect.”
“You’re obviously a long way away from that. I figure that you have a busy few weeks ahead of you. I also forbid you from experimenting on this particular inmate anymore.”
“I am sorry Miss Owens, but we’ve already started her on the regimen. It would be a waste to stop now.”
“It WILL be a waste for you, but not this institution.”
“Hmm… very well. But let it be known that my superiors will not look at this very favorably and I will be forced to write a detailed report.”
“Do what you need to do. Just make sure that that your report is accurate.”
“Very well, thank you… Good day, Miss Owens.”
The doctor did not receive a reply as the pretty administrator walked away without acknowledging him any further. The corridor outside the cell emptied out in a manner of seconds. Only an occasional guard would pass by, peering into the cells to check on the female prisoners. The lights were turned out. A few hours had passed and Melissa was rather surprised at the sound of female high heels echoing through the corridor. Miss Owens’ hourglass silhouette coalesced in front of the cell door.
“Hi Melissa, would you please approach the door? Guard, please turn on the light in the cell.”
“What is it that you want from me now?” – asked Melissa.
“There is a rather delicate matter that I would like to discuss with you. It is an opportunity of sorts for you and I won’t hide the fact that it’s important to me as well. If you comply with what I ask of you, I will move you back to security level C with some added privileges starting immediately.”
“Well, tell me what it is and maybe I will give you an answer.”
Miss Owens smiled demurely at Melissa’s reproach. She knew that all the cards were in her hand.
“I am in the midst of rather delicate negotiations with a company called GirlChain Incorporated regarding some innovative products of female prisoner restraint. You may not be aware of it, but this company is already a close partner of ours and they supplied the fitted handcuffs that you’re wearing as well as the Iron Maiden device in your cell. You have also tasted their muzzle gags with delicious mouth insertables. There are a couple of other items that I would like to procure from them, but they need to be met with approval of our shareholders outside of the prison system. ICBG receives significant government funding in order to function however there are areas of our operations where we rely on private subsidies. I need to convince our investors that my idea is a good one and worth implementing despite the costs. If I enlist you as my help in this effort, Melissa, you will have the power to unhinge my plans. However, any satisfaction of doing so will be short lived as it will not do any significant damage and I will not hesitate to retaliate. I am also feeling generous enough to allow you to opt out without repercussions, but you should not hope for any special perks if you do that. So, do you want to listen to my proposal?”
Melissa weighed Miss Owens’ words in her mind. She felt no logical inclination to trust this conceited girl who has already caused her to suffer through so many humiliations. A strong, seething disdain rebelled against compliance, but her physical and mental comfort yearned strongly for any relief from the harsh regimens of her imprisonment. Almost against her better judgment, she uttered:
“Just tell me what you want. I don’t want to know your life story.”
“You are something else Melissa, you truly are. Unfortunately, we don’t have all day or at least I don’t so let’s get down to business. I need to you to model a new type of prisoner restraint for me. I need to WOW the investors and I think that you are my best chance to help me do it. All that you would need to do is to show up in front of a few people where the restraint would be put on, you would walk pace back and forth a couple of times like a model on a runway and that would be it. Do you agree? Just nod your head if you do.”
Melissa hesitated for just a moment eyeing her adversary, but then she decisively nodded in the affirmative. Seeing people outside of the prison system, even if they were financial contributors could have led to some information and this was paramount
“Thank you, Melissa. I will instruct the guards to transport you up to level C as soon as possible. You will be required to spend two hours in the Iron Maiden before departure as part of the exit procedure, but following that I am sure that you will be much more pleased with your treatment here. I look forward to working with you in a few days!”
Review This Story || Email Author: Michael Brewer