View Full Version : Birondian Prison
This role play is just for SirStef and me. (I am a beginner.) Remarks, comments are welcome, though.
Birondian border guards, examining my bag on the train, have found my cannabis joints. My hands are handcuffed behind me and i am abducted in my shorts and vest as a drug smuggler, claiming in vain that i have a suitcase, too. They say it will be disposed of, but i have never seen my suitcase again.
I am led by two policemen in the Birondia City prison. Saying i want to call a lawyer, i get an enormous slap in the face, so that my nose starts bleeding. I have no handkerchief, it is in the bag but they don't allow me to use it. They let me bleed. My mobile phone, too, is taken away with my handbag.
With blood-covered face and clothes i am brought in a room where i have to stand in front of a big desk, a big man sitting there in khaki dress. .
"We caught a drug smuggler, Sir", one of the policemen reports, saluting.
"Rather a disgusting one, as I see", the big man says, seeing my appearance. "What is up, you filthy whore? Why did you come in our country?"
"I came as a tourist, Sir."
"Smuggling marijuana", the policeman says. "Here it is, Sir."
And he hands over my handbag to the big man.
SirStef
12-19-2009, 12:46 PM
Some legal heat was on me in Canada, so while I had the chance I decided to take my bag of money and head for Birondia.
There I met an attractive young American tourist and shortly got a steamy relationship started. Then out of the clear blue, she dumps me. After spending so much time and money on her, this really annoyed me so I came up with an evil plan to get her back. I planted the last of my precious marijuana stash in her purse and notified the local authorities of this 'drug carrying' woman.
Well, the original intention was revenge but the result was beyond my wildest dreams. In her defence, she told the police that she'd just dumped the complainant and it was I who probably framed her. The police contacted me to ask if I'd like to witness her 'interview.'
Turns out I'd done a few influencial people a favor, as they were a bunch of sadistic bastards who loved nothing more than an excuse to capture and use attractive 'gringo' women. The vengeance for me was incredible watching the brutal treatment they gave this stupid bitch.
That was several years ago and once I learned how the game was played I worked into their perverted tastes, winning favors, getting into their employ and workiing my way up to superintendant of the federal women's prison.
The local police chiefs had been instructed, when apprehending attractive female suspects, to notify the local magistrate, who of course was a slimy, corrupt SOB much like me, and myself before beginning any 'interviews.'
As a result, one day I received a call that the local constabulary had caught another drug carrying tourist who called herself Kim.
The big man opens my handbag. He puts its contents on the desk. There are the joints, covered in paper, perhaps a dozen of them. There are normal cigarettes, too.
"What is this, slut?", the man asks me.
I am frightened. I try to speak respectfully.
"Cigarettes, Sir."
"They will be examined. And this? What?"
He takes one of my joints. I can't see any sense of denial.
"It is a marijuana cigarette, Sir."
"So you are guilty. Take her arms, boys."
The two policemen take my handcuffed arms, forcing me on my knees. The big man steps up to me and gives me two enormous slaps in the face.
"Did you deserve it, whore?"
My tears are coming.
"Yes, Sir, i did."
He gives me two more. I start to sob.
"Hand her over to the guards, saying that she has to be placed in a private cell, remaining in handcuffs. I will visit her."
I am led away.
The policeman presents me to a prison guard.
"Put her in a private cell, that is the command of the lieutenant, and keep her handcuffed."
The guard opens and examines my mouth, and paws all areas of my body. I scream when he touches my crotch, but i get another big slap. It seems to me i will be slapped by anyone i meet. And haven't they female guards? I feel deep humiliation.
My cell is very small and has no furniture at all. I try to sit on the stone floor, kneeling and sitting on my heels, my hands cuffed together behind my back. It is rather unpleasant and i begin to think about sitting with uplifted knees, when the door opens and the big man in khaki dress enters. The lieutenant.
Without any preamble he grabs my breasts and lifts me, placing me in standing posture.
"Stand up, slut, if I enter."
"Sorry, Sir."
He is grinding my nipples painfully.
"Listen, filthy bitch. The judge and the superintendent of the federal female prison will call soon to interrogate you. Show respect and answer obediently. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir. I understand."
"Now you lift your left knee and put your left sole of foot on your right knee."
I obey, understanding nothing.
"You will stand so until they arrive. Am i understood? You will be observed."
"I understand, Sir."
He grinds my nipples painfully again. Then he leaves me, standing on one leg.
After a while it means infernal pain.
SirStef
12-20-2009, 12:03 PM
"Senor Martin, welcome. You're here to view our new suspect?" greets the police lieutenant.
"No, I've missed your lousy coffee for a few weeks, I'm here to get my monthly fix of the crap! Of course I'm here to see the suspect" I retort, "Let's see the bitch."
He dispatches a subordinate to fetch her. When they bring her into the office, there's blood on her face and clothes. "The judge is going to be pissed when he gets here; you know your not to rough them up before we see them. Clean her up. And, I guess you're going to have to get rid of her bloody clothes too," I order.
When the judge arrives, the first thing he notices is her swollen lip. No words were neccessary with the scowl he gave the lieutenant. "Hmm, nice. Not fair skinned , but she'll still be popular."
She certainly would be. She had the smooth, tawny skin of a local but was young, about twenty, I'd say, appeared to have been fairly muscular and athletic, but just starting to soften in that delicious way young women do when first maturing. Long wavy dark brown hair surrounded an attractive face that featured full, luscious lips. Not huge breasts, but a good handful and very firm. Waist still trim and legs nicely, fully rounded; cute, small feet.
The judge and I just sat back to watch the procedings. These guys new what we wanted to see. "Who are you? Where are you from? Why are you in our country? Who are you carrying drugs for?" Question after question in rapid fire, shouted intimidatingly. She was so scared and befuddled she couldn't get an answer out before the next question was screamed at her.
"No answers?" the lieutenant screamed, "you two, bend her over the desk, "Fernadez, show her how you use that belt other than to hold your pants over your fat ass."
With that two junior constables grabbed her arms, crushing her face and body down accross the lieutenant's desk. Fernandez wasn't long slipping the wide, heavy belt from his uniform pants.
"Well?" screamed the boss at his subordinate, "you going to fondle it all day or use it on her?"
From about three feet back came an overhand swing down over a beautifully rounded ass cheek. After a loud 'crack', a scream and some kicking another maximum over hand swing came down on the other cheek. Again the pain was allowed to sink in before moving to one side so the next blow would be accross the upper part of both cheeks. On and on - let her kick and scream a bit before the next blow was delivered, with great skill, just below the last until the redness had taken over her whole generous bottom and the belt was now punishing the crease at the top of her thighs.
Of course with the continuous screaming and crying, she wasn't answering any questions. The 'interrogation' had gone on for about fifteen minutes. By now the only thing coming from her was meaningless blubbering and crying. "Looks like she doesn't want to offer any information," announced the judge, "she'll stand trial in my court in the morning."
"That'll be good, then she'll be in my prison by the weekend," I confided to the judge, "she'll be the highlight of the party scheduled for Saturday night."
There was no doubt, judging by the lumps in the pants of the constibles, that our show tonight had one more act. the still sobbing, almost senseless, naked 'suspect' was forced to her knees in the middle of the floor. It wasn't a minute before six men were spewing their cum all over her face and hair.
"Tonight's interview is done. Have her ready - and presentable - for her trial in the morning," the lieutenant directed the thugs who were his subordinates, "and any of you fucking her before them will be fired."
I don't dare to move. Still standing on one leg, in maddening pain, i hear footsteps on the corridor. Two policemen enter, laughing when they see how i am standing. They take off my handcuffs and grab my arm from left and right.
"Come, slut. You will be interrogated."
There is the big lieutenant with another policeman in the room. Another gentleman is sitting there, with an interesting face which i find attractive from the first moment. He seems clever and sensitive, but at the same time stubborn and self-confident. He says, seeing the blood on my face and clothes:
"The judge is going to be pissed when he gets here."
So he is not the judge. He is the superintendent of the Birondian Federal Female Prison. At his wish, i am taken in a bathroom and cleaned up. But i don't get back my clothes. Even my thong and bra are taken away. My sandals remain in the bathroom, too. When the judge arrives, i face six men stark naked. I am so ashamed that i hardly hear the questions i am asked. And I have no time to answer. My name is Kim Perkins but they put it down as Kim Sopkins. No chance my people can find me here.
Because i can't answer i am bent over the desk and one of the policemen beats my bottom cruelly with his belt. I am whipped ruthlessly for about fifteen minutes. I am squirming, kicking, crying, choking in my tears. They interpret this so that i am not willing to cooperate. The judge says i will have my trial next morning.
They make me kneel in the center of the room, and i find myself surrounded by six male organs, every one squirting its juice in my face, in my mouth, in my hair, on my body.
I am not washed. The policemen lead me away naked, with all the cum on me. Two prison guards take me back in my private cell, putting on my handcuffs again. They put on me a rather curious steel object (http://www.bdsmlibrary.com/forums/album.php?albumid=1174&pictureid=9580), too, which keeps my mouth open and doesn't let me speak. I cannot swallow my saliva, it flows down on my chin. My jaws are aching cruelly.
They don't leave. Laying me on the stone floor, they fuck me, one after another, in a very rough manner. When i am alone at last, i feel like a filthy rag thrown away in a trash can.
SirStef
12-20-2009, 04:18 PM
They've cleaned her up, found some clothes that sort of fit her, even combed her hair to make it look presentable for her trial. But it's all a farce - the "lawyer" assigned to her defence is a nephew of the judge, as perverted as the rest of us, one of the insider bunch.
The trial lasts about twenty minutes before she's found guilty and sentenced to ten years in the federal prison - my prison.
In a couple of days she'll be the main attraction at a regular Saturday night party we have where a group of influential, usually rich and powerful elite enjoy the pleasures that selected inmates are made to provide.
The judge and I will enjoy her in the meantime but on her arrival I order attendants to find her a place in section 3. The most hardened criminals are in that section and should provide interesting company for her. Besides, the matrons in control of section 3 are the toughest and meanest. Some interesting activities might just be caught on security video for our amusement.
After a tormented night spent naked on the stone floor, with my wrists handcuffed behind me and my mouth painfully gagged, i am happy to hear the jingle of keys from the corridor. Two male guards come in, removing my handcuffs and gag and taking me in a bathroom, washing my body, combing my hair, drying me up with a rough towel, and pinching my breasts a lot and fingering my pussy amidst big laughs. Then they bring some clothes. They are not mine. The skirt hardly covers anything of my thighs, the top leaves my breasts fairly uncovered, an unguarded move displaying my nipples. I don't get any lingerie. Neither shoes.
"We didn't find your sandals", one guard says, looking as one who prepares to sell them at an acceptable price. "But you won't miss them. In our country many people are walking around barefoot."
So my sensitive soles are suffering while i am taken to my trial. I have to stand. My "lawyer" claims only a mitigated punishment for me, considering my young age. He also tells that i may be tired and demands a chair for me. First i don't understand it, but i do when a low footstool is given to me. My skirt goes up and my crotch is displayed. I want to stand up but the guards press me down. Seeing that my position is hopeless, i plead guilty when i am asked, thinking that self-humiliation is my best policy. I am sentenced to ten years for drug smuggling and prostitution. That is, for using a light recreational drug and wearing a short skirt.
I am taken back to the prison. "The clothes aren't yours, slut", the guards say, stripping me naked and putting the handcuffs on again. I get lunch in a bowl, without releasing my hands. It is placed on the floor and one of the guards pisses in it, doing so with my water, too. It is disgusting but i am extremely hungry an thirsty, having had nothing to eat or drink yesterday. I go down on my knees and try to learn how to eat with my mouth only, lapping up water (and urine) with my tongue. I struggle with a strong prompting to vomit.
"Did you like your meal, slut?", the guard asks me, removing the empty vessels.
"Yes, Sir", i replay humbly. "Thank You, Sir. It was delicious."
I am trying to find an acceptable position to sit on the bare floor with hands handcuffed behind me, guessing more and more that such a position doesn't exist, when i hear the jingling of the keys again. A guard comes, and, not missing to pinch my breast, takes me up to a second floor office, naked and handcuffed. Two gentlemen are sitting in the room: the judge who sentenced me and the other gentleman with the interesting face, the superintendent of the federal female prison. They make me kneel before them, and, pinching and pawing my body, they start a conversation. I learn that the name of the judge is Senor Gonzalez, while the superintendent is called Senor Martin. I don't like the judge. He is like a little goblin. As for Senor Martin, his manner is rather brusque, but there is something attractive in him. I wish that if i am used sexually it would be him who does this. Only that it is an illusory hope. They both use me. I have to satisfy them orally, but first they bend me over the table and give me a painful belting. They beat me both, then they use me as their sex-toy. They want me to swallow all the cum. I am not successful, so i am punished with another belting, this time on my soles of feet. One gentleman holds my legs in position, and the other hits. They have this entertainment quite a long time. I walk on swollen feet when i am taken back to my cell.
Before i am led away, Senor Martin says:
"This will be your last night in this prison. We have your place already in the Birondian Federal Female Prison. The prison i supervise. Tomorrow you will be transported there. You will be my guest, Kim."
I understand Birondian well, but to my surprise he doesn't say it in Birondian. He speaks purest English, with characteristic American pronunciation.
This appealing torturer of mine must be North American.
"Yes, Sir Martin. Thank You, Sir Martin", i replay in English, humbly.
We started this role play exclusively for SirStef and me, but from now WE ARE EXPECTING FURTHER CONTRIBUTORS.
SirStef expects guests for his party, males, females, couples, who will be entertained by dominating prisoner girls, among them me (Kim). Cruel sadists favored.
I am expecting sadistic females to torture me a) as my cellmates, b) as female prison guards (matrons). Lesbians favored.
I would like one friend, too, a weak girl who is tortured by our cellmates, like myself, whom i could love and take her punishments on myself. Lesbians favored again.
Please send a private message to SirStef (he is in charge) and send a copy also to me if You want to contribute. Come, I beg You!
Humbly
yub (Kim) :wave:
SirStef
12-21-2009, 03:12 PM
Rule for guest contributors:
Kim will be used at another party next week, so no long term injuries will be accepted (she's no good next week if she has a shoulder separation on the rack this week)
Also, she is young and relatively naive, unaccustomed to pain and humiliation so, preferably, it should be started at low levels and gradually increased. -SS
Oh, dear Sir, your word is law, of course. But Kim is docile, look how humble and obedient she became in the Birondia City Prison. Just take your whip, please, and educate the naughty, marijuana-smoking bitch. ;whip
Oh, dear Sir, your word is law, of course. But Kim is docile, look how humble and obedient she became in the Birondia City Prison. Just take your whip, please, and educate the naughty, marijuana-smoking bitch. ;whip
At night i am fucked by six prison guards. I feel it extremely disgusting, but at the fifth one i have an orgasm at last. And it is surprisingly strong. The humiliation broke me, something opened up in me. At the sixth intercourse i have another orgasm. I have to spend the night handcuffed and gagged again, and the guards put clothespins on my nipples. It is a sharp pain, dulling later. Surprisingly, my suffering doesn't take away the strange feeling of satisfaction. I even sleep a bit.
I am awakened by my cell door opening. Two guards take me, as i am, handcuffed, gagged, naked. The clothespins are taken away from my nipples, giving me severe pain again, but they are placed back very soon, renewing the torment. On my naked body is thrown something remembering a gown, but much shorter, hardly covering the half of my thighs. It has no belt, so it opens up in the front, displaying my bare body. It has blue and yellow stripes.
They led me to the entrance, where the big lieutenant is waiting for me with two policemen.
"Here is the prisoner, Sir."
"Good. How are you, whore?"
I am unable to replay, gagged. I only give a little bow. He twists the clothespins on my nipples. I am groaning with pain.
"Don't you like it?"
I bow again, expressing that i accept the torture.
"You go to the Federal Female Prison, Section 3. Behave well."
I bow.
"There is this, as farewell present."
He gives me two enormous slaps. I almost fall.
"Good bye, filthy one."
The policemen put me in an awaiting car and we start. Our drive lasts about half an hour. We arrive at a hardly built-up area. There is the great bulk of the female prison. We drive up and one of the policemen shows my papers to the porter.
A female guard comes to receive me. She wears a grey uniform with shorts. She has brown hair and green eyes. Her legs are very shapely. Her age may be 30 something. On her belt there is a truncheon from the left and a whip from the right. She has a revolver holster, too.
"Are you Kim Sopkins?"
I am Kim Perkins, but how can i explain it, gagged? I can't do anything but bow again.
"Come with me, Sopkins."
He leads me in a small office.
"Take off your bata."
I don't know what a bata is. But i am unable to ask anything, with my mouth gagged.
I get a formidable slap in the face. (It begins.)
"TAKE-OFF-YOUR-BATA-I-SAID."
Possibly the gown is my bata. Moving my shoulders i try to make it fall. It doesn't.
"Are you deaf?"
She takes her whip and strikes my breasts which are left bare by the bata - if the gown is my bata. One, two, three strikes. I moan.
"Take off your bata."
Another move of my shoulders is efficient. The bata falls to the floor and there i am, naked.
"You get twelve more strokes for your disobedience."
And the whip starts working again.
SirStef
12-22-2009, 11:48 AM
As usual, when we're lucky enough to get a young, attractive new prisoner, I arrange to enjoy her for myself before letting the special party guests - much less the staff - get at her. So I called to the head matron of section 3 to bring Kim to my office.
"OK, strip her," I commanded the matron and her assistant. I was immediately shocked and enraged. That lovely smooth, soft body had welts all over it. And her debut to my special party guests was scheduled for only a few days away.
"Are you responsible for this mess?" I screamed at the section matron. Now this is the toughest woman I've ever met and this was the first time in all the years I'd known her that I'd seen her cowed.
Looking down, she humbly muttered "Yes, sir." She new damn well she'd stepped well over the line.
"You failed to think this young beauty was to be the highlight of this week's party? She was to be in pure, pristine condition!" I roared, "You take her to isolation so the other bitches can't get their hands on her, and do whatever you have to do to have her in that condition in time for the party. If there are still marks on her so she can't be presented, then you, dumb bitch, will be the warm-up attraction by being hung up and whipped to within an inch of your life!" That was a hell of a threat for this woman; she's big and strong - she could be bloody all over from the whip, and not only survive, but may not even pass out.
They took Kim away leaving no doubt in my mind they'd do everything possible to have her ready. "Damn," I swore, pacing my office, really pissed. Word was around the circle that we had fresh, new meat for the next party, first time in a couple of months.
The smooth, tawny, soft flesh of her back and ass just begged for a whip to be sunk into it. Firm little tits, soft, rounded legs, feet and pussy all ripe for clamps, needles, canes and crops. To deny the partiers for another week because she wasn't ready would be embarassing.
We'd have to auction off the same half dozen as the last several weeks and they wouldn't draw much bidding as the partiers had become accustomed to them and they to the pain and humilation - the novelty had gone. If such a scene developed my only hope was that a severe whipping of the matron would inspire interest. And a severe whipping she'd get. I'd be sure of that.
After whipping me the guard says:
"Well, it shows you your place, slut. Now you thank for your punishment."
"Thank You for my punishment, Ma'am."
"No. You say: 'Thank You for my well deserved punishment, Senorita Dolores, from now on i will be obedient.' Senorita Dolores, so am I addressed by the prisoners. I am the chief matron of Section 3."
"Thank You for my well deserved punishment, Senorita Dolores, from now on i will be obedient."
"Ok. Now, slut..."
A phone rings. "Yes, Sir", she speaks into the receiver. "We bring her up."
Another female guard comes, they take off my handcuffs and remove my gag. The clothespins fell off my nipples with the whip strokes. They cover me with the bata and we go up in an elevator. We enter an office. And there is Sir/Senor Martin in it. My fellow North American, the only person whom i feel sympathy to. "Good morning, Sir", i smile at him. He only grunts and says to the matrons: "Strip her."
They take off the bata and Senor Martin, seeing the welts on my body, gets enraged. The following scene is hardly understandable for me. He mentions that "i was to be the highlight of this week's party", such mysterious words i ever have heard. He threatens Senorita Dolores that she will be hung up and whipped to within an inch of your life. Is it because she whipped me? It seems so, but it doesn't make sense for me. I was whipped in the another prison, even Senor Martin whipped me with his belt. Now he angrily commands the chief matron to take me to isolation and do everything "to have me in pure, pristine condition in time for the party". What can it be? Do they hold parties for the newcomers in the prison?
Wearing nothing but the blue-yellow striped bata i am taken into a small room where there is nothing but four bare walls and a bare stone floor. Some light is coming in through a small, grilled window, placed very high. I sit on the floor. It is good that i don't have handcuffs and gag any more. I can do also without the clothespins on my nipples, i state with a distorted smile in my desolation.
The subordinate guard comes in and smears some balm on my welts.
"You will be ok", she encourages me. Then she goes.
Nothing and nobody around. Is this the solitude of the private cells where prisoners go mad?
Nothing. Nobody. Silence. I take a strong effort not to cry.
"Hopkins!"
What it is? Nobody around. Nobody on the corridor.
"Hopkins!"
I am not Hopkins. Somebody else is called somewhere.
"Hopkins! Do you hear me?"
Four bare walls and the bare floor. The voice isn't coming from the direction of the small window.
I lift up my eyes.
"Hopkins! I am your fellow prisoner. Cautiously answer me."
The voice speaks from above, from the direction of the electric bulb.
"What is your name?", i risk asking.
"Speak low. The acoustics are good. There is a hole under one piece of stone. I removed the stone and we can hear each other. If somebody is coming, say 'danger'. If we may speak again, say 'clear'. So will do I."
"What is your name?"
"Genoveva. I am in a private cell for rebellious behavior. But the prisoners communicate through the walls. The fame went around about your arrival, Hopkins."
"I am not Hopkins. My real name is Perkins, but i am sentenced under the name of Sopkins."
"Thank you, Hopkins."
She is rather hopeless, i think.
"Call me Kim", i suggest. "Senorita Dolores whipped me without reason when i arrived. Senor Martin rebuked her. Now they are healing my marks."
"Only preparing you for a party where you will be tortured again. Senor Martin is a very mean man. Every newcomer is whipped, all the Senoritas torture them."
"Senoritas?"
"All matrons are Senoritas. Not a single Senora among them. They are all lesbians. Making love with each other and with the prisoners. And they are all sadists, Kim."
"Senorita Dolores the worst of them?"
"Oh, no. One of the mildest. She whipped you according the rules. Senor Martin showed himself as your defender, but he has his wicked plans against you."
I feel desperation. The only man whom i could like, mean and wicked.
"How do you know this, Genoveva?"
"Walls have ears. Inmates know everything."
Footsteps on the corridor.
"Danger", i whisper. The throaty voice above me shuts up.
The cell door opens. Two matrons enter. One of them places a bowl on the floor, with some vegetables in it. The other puts down another bowl with water.
I have experience of eating from the floor, even with my hands tied behind me. I want to start. But one of the guards say:
"Wait."
She pulls down her shorts under her knees and so does with her knickers. She squats over the bowl with the vegetables and urinates in it. So does the other one with the water bowl.
"Eat an drunk. It will be delicious."
I wanted to correct the last sentence but i lost the connection with the server, and, regaining it, i was timed out. Correctly it runs:
"Eat and drink. It will be delicious."
MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY FRIENDS
I eat my meal to the last bit and i drink my water to the last drop, being desperately hungry and thirsty. The urine makes them taste a bit like medicine, but i hardly feel the humiliation. I start feeling that being humiliated is a normal state of mine. The strange thing is that i don't feel inimical toward my torturers. They do their job, i think. It is very surprising but when i eat and drink others' urine i feel some sexual arousal with the humiliation.
The matrons came back to remove the empty bowls. They seem satisfied seeing that i emptied them without dropping anything to the floor. Of course i stand up.
"Give me your bata", the taller one says. I obey, remaining fully naked. While she is feeling the textile all over, checking there isn't anything sewn in it, the shorter one feels my bare breasts, tickling tenderly my nipples. They are hardening.
"I am Senorita Fusta", the shorter one says, pinching my nipples painfully. "You thank me for the pinches."
"Thank you humbly for the well deserved pinches, Senorita Fusta", i say, applying the form i learned from Senorita Dolores. "From now on i will be obedient."
They both laugh.
"I am Senorita Tralla", the taller one says, and starts pinching my clit. In pain i am thanking her. I am laughed at again.
They leave, taking away the bowls and also my bata. I am in my cell shamefully naked. I don't know why it is good, but i accept this new humiliation.
There is a pail in a corner, obviously for my needs. I piss and shit there. I can't clean myself. My dirt is drying on me.
Another guard comes. The one who gave me ointment on my welts.
"I am Senorita Rita. Let me nurse you, little one."
She smears me up again. The welts don't hurt any more and start disappearing.
"This balm is wonderful, you see", she smiles at me.
"Oh... Please, Senorita Rita... How can i clean my ass hole?"
"Once a day you will be taken to the shower. There you empty your pail in the closet, and wash yourself and the pail. You will get five minutes for this all."
"Thank your for the information, Senorita Rita."
"You are welcome, little slut."
Even if the information isn't very reassuring, the human voice encourages me so that i take her hand and kiss it.
To my surprise, she gives me back the kiss on my lips. Then she kisses my both nipples.
"Kiss my legs, little whore."
Her legs are really shapely. I go down on my knees and start kissing her ankles, going up to her beautiful knees and challenging thighs. She is fondling my breasts.
Footsteps outside.
"You will improve more to the morrow", she says, going.
Two male guards enter, smiling as they see me stark naked.
"Wash", they say. Not missing to pinch my bare breasts painfully, they escort me with the pail to a washroom, they truncheon ready in their hands. They seem being afraid that i escape, naked. Perhaps that is why male guards are used, they are stronger and quicker. I empty the pail, i rinse it hurriedly, then i step under the shower.
"Your time is out." One of the guards grabs my breasts roughly and pulls me out of the shower cabin.
"I didn't have time to wash myself at all", i protest. "No water yet from the shower."
"Are you debating, slut? For this, you will come back with a bit of difficulty."
They take ropes and tie my hands behind my back. Then they tie my ankles to my thighs so that i can step only on my knees, dragging myself with difficulties. I move like a snail.
"Quickly, slut", they urge me, prodding me with their truncheons. They don't hit, probably sparing my skin. While i am meditating how would be a hit with a truncheon like, female guards are coming and laughing at me. I am put to great shame. A laughing choir accompanies me while i am crawling back in my cell.
Having reached our destiny, i expect my escorts to release me. They don't. One of them kicks me and they leave.
Here i am, naked, tied hands and feet, still in my dirt.
Then a throaty voice calls me from above.
"Hopkins!"
"Call me Kim, Genoveva. Please, how come male guards in a female prison?"
"They are not prison guards. They are the body guards of Senor Martin. There are six ot them."
"They didn't let me to shower. I am as dirty as i was."
"Be sure, they will come back and take you to shower."
"How do you know that, Genoveva?"
"They have to report to Senor Martin, and he will ask them whether you are cleaned up. He wants you clean for his party."
Footseps.
"Danger", i whisper. Genoveva becomes mute.
It is the two male guards. They release me.
"Come, slut."
In the corridor Senorita Rita waits for me, covering my naked body with a bata.
"Come, little one. Senor Martin disposed about you. You will have warm water, soap and towel. And your time won't be limited. After your bath i will balm you up all over again."
I feel a pleasant shiver, remembering the touch of her hands and lips.
The bodyguards escort us with their truncheons like two visiting queens.
While taking my shower, one question troubles my brain:
How can Genoveva know about everything?
After my shower, i am escorted back in my cell. The bodyguards disappear. Senorita Rita comes in the cell with me. She puts down the jar with the balm and peals the bata off me. I smell with soap.
She begins caressing my body, my face, my shoulders, my breasts. She kisses my lips and neck. She is a very shapely woman, young, sweet faced, radiating a warm tenderness about herself. Is she a sadist as Genoveva said about all the matrons? Or is she an exception?
She lowers her shorts and panties and leads my hand to her crotch. It is obvious what she wants. I have never had lesbian sex before. And the circumstances seem to me rather risky. Still, i start fondling her clit. Her body becomes tense and she moans. I finger her pussy. She keeps kissing me passionately, her hands press my breasts painfully. Then she emits a loud groan, her body shaking wildly.
Arriving footsteps sound on the corridor.
She is an artist of the prison sex. In a moment she has her panties and shorts on her wet pussy, the mist slowly disappearing from her eyes. She takes the balm and nurses me.
"Prisoner Sopkins, you will be healed in a short time completely", she says loudly. "Thank you, darling", she adds in whispers. She grabs my hand and kisses it. Then she leaves me. An astounding, tender, enchanting girl. If she is a sadist, i won't mind her torturing me.
Nobody comes in my cell. The footsteps die away on the corridor. I thought i would get supper, but it seems there isn't such a thing in the prison.
"Clear", i send my message toward the ceiling.
No answer. Is Genoveva sleeping?
I arrange the bata on my body and crouch in a corner. Perhaps i can get some sleep, too.
No. The cell door opens.
Senorita Fusta and Senorita Tralla come in, the matrons who pissed in my lunch. Senorita Tralla brings a bata with her. I stand up as it becomes.
"Oh, you have a bata, slut?"
"Yes, Senorita Tralla, i got one when i was taken to have bath."
"Well, here is yours. It was examined. You will wear this."
"I obey, Senorita."
"You had better. Take off this one."
I do. I want to put on mine, but they stop me.
"First, little slut, you will squat a bit. We are not allowed to whip you, so you will suffer this way. We will enjoy seeing you in pain."
There are two ways of squatting. When your butt is on low and your knees are on high, it is resting, you almost sit (http://community.webshots.com/photo/fullsize/1445449354077954130zVfjuc). But when your butt is in one horizontal line with your knees (http://community.webshots.com/photo/fullsize/2022098360088120579RzzFXe), it is very tiring and after a while it gets painful. The Senoritas make me squat this second way, and i have to hold my arms high, keeping in my hands both batas. It is painful for the muscles in the thighs and arms. After a brief time my legs and arms are shaking and i suffer hard.
The girls are sitting on the floor, observing my suffering, making remarks and laughing at me.
SirStef
12-28-2009, 12:53 PM
A couple of hours before the party is scheduled to start, matron Delores, four big male guards from the men's section and I go down to the isolation section to inspect the condition of the prisoner Kim.
Her welts are healing well, however still too visible to present her at the party. A new prisoner normally attracts high bidding from the guests but she must be in pristine condition, so Kim would have to wait until the next occassion. Pointing to matron Delores, I ordered the male guards "get this one ready for the party."
There was a reason for having four strong male guards here for this. Delores immediately began kicking and fighting as she screamed and swore. What a wildcat she was, big and strong. It took at least three of the men to get her up to the 'party room' and into position.
A lot of revenue comes from the bidding of the guests for the right to play with an inmate for an evening. There are no complaints from the regulars, however, as the proceeds go into the making of a luxury dungeon out of an old classroom. There are comfortable chairs and lounges for all guests; warm decor with accoustics designed to take the irritating shrillness out of the screaming; a generous selection of bondage furniture and punishment toys and a small, curtained stage area where a setting may be prepared for the opening entertainment. It was in this area where the naked Delores was secured, hands over head, ankles three feet apart secured to floor rings and gagged to prevent her yelling and swearing from giving away her 'act.'
Another feature of the party complex was a pair of small ajoining rooms with one-way glass so any high profile celebrities concerned about anonymity could watch discreatly. With one of these observation rooms not being required for special guests tonight, Kim was secured to a seat in one to allow her some insight into the nature of our regular parties.
When all the guests had arrived, I took my place at the front of the stage to announce: "Welcome again friends and special guests to our regular sado party. Tonight we have a special feature for your sadistic pleasure." With that I made a grandios wave at the curtain which opened to reveal the captured Delores.
After a bit of a gasp, a buzz went through the guests. They'd seen the amozonian Delores many times before but always on the handle end of the whip.
While the audience was stilll buzzing, Imanez, the most skillful man with a whip took his position in front of his victim with a seven foot bullwhip to begin. The first lazy swing initially touched Delores' left hip, the last eighteen inches snaking around to snap accross her broad ass.
Obviously, the first contact produces little pain, the end of the whip picks up speed as it whips around, so there is much more impact at its tip. The following backhand initially touched her right hip, the end of the whip stinging her left cheek.
Though there certainly wasn't unbearable pain at this time, the enraged Delores screamed and swore into her gag. The strokes came with gradually more enthusiasm, about ten more forehands and backhands stinging the big matron's ass.
Then Imanez started working up her back with the bullwhip with increasing zeal. When he got to the point where the tip was wrapping around to catch the side of her generous breast, she finally started to flinch on impact.
After the broad back had been thoroughly steaked he started on the spread thighs. First at the knee, working upward to the tender part at the top of the thigh so the tip whipped around to sting and mark the most sensitive, soft inner thigh. Up one leg, then the other, about ten strokes on each, by this time all strokes were hard and Delores was doing quite an entertaining dance while the gag continued to spare the guests having to listen to her outraged swearing.
Return to the back, concentrating on the tip's final most stinging touch on the side of her, obviously now distressed, tits.
Enough of the whip-around action. Time for the flicking or snapping of the seven foot whip's tip on targetted areas which, of course would be the most sensitive. He started gaging his range and accuracy on her exposed armpits. Until his accuaracy was in tune he'd struck the tender inside of her upper arm and top of the ribs a couple of times.
Satisfied he was ready, Imanez took a flick at Delores' left breast. Then the right. Then the crotch. Now her swearing was turning to cries of pain. Around he went again: one breast, second breast, cunt.
Around and around. After three on each target I was afraid Delores was having trouble breathing, her nose running, trying to pant and gasp around the gag, so I stopped the procedings for a few seconds to remove it, then gave Imenez the sign to continue.
Back to the routine: snap one breast, then the other, then the cunt. The swearing had given way to wailing. For the first time anyone present had seen, Delores' face was streaked with tears while wails turning to screams was contunuous.
I could observe the guests were enjoying the entertainment. Most of those, male or female, who had brought slaves now had them giving their owners sexual relief in one way or another. Occassionally, slaves would be lent or traded to associate guests for their pleasure
After about twenty blows to each target, she was screamed out. Only hoarse indescribable sounds came from her mouth now. At last she could stand no more as her head slumped forward, unconscious. She'd absorbed at least two hundred strokes of the evil tool.
Her body from neck to knees was covered with welts. Where welts crossed, droplets of blood were quite visible. What had been mouthwatering tits were now gobs of raw meat hanging on her chest while blood ran down her inner thighs and dripped on the floor.
This had been, by far, the most severe punishment anyone had ever seen in this room. The guests were all excited. I knew the bidding would be high and the treatment cruel for the inmates about to be auctioned off.
"Take her to the infirmiry," I ordered the guards, "and tell the medics I want her back on the job in a week."
I am squatting in pain. My hands are trembling, my knees dancing. The two Senoritas are mocking me.
"Don't dare to lower your hand or knee", Senorita Tralla warns me. "You will regret if you do."
"I obey, Senorita", i replay. But i don't know how long will i be able to obey. My state is unendurable.
Senorita Fusta takes something from the pocket of her shorts. She begins to work on it attentively. I know what it is. She is making a marijuana joint (http://community.webshots.com/photo/fullsize/2829453800091009251QtwpGv). When it is ready (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Joint.jpg), she gives it to Senorita Tralla, who uses her lighter and starts to sniff. Then she gives it back to her companion. They sniff alternatively.
"Do you want a sniff, little whore?", Senorita Tralla asks me, blowing the familiar scent in my face.
Before my arrest i was sniffing regularly. A strong craving for the drug is awakening in me.
"Oh, i beg You, Senorita."
The matron approaches my mouth with the cigarette, then takes it away.
"On the second thought, I won't give it to you. Suffer."
And they both are laughing.
I am at the end of my strength. Suddenly my head starts to swim and i collapse. Both my hands and knees touch the floor. I drop the two batas.
"You will regret this, bitch."
Now Senorita Tralla takes something from her pocket. It is the familiar dental gag. She forces it in my mouth. Then they grab my arms and twist them painfully. I am writhing with agony and give inarticulate sounds. They twist more forcefully. The pain is maddening. And they twist more. And more.
"I warned you, bitch."
They twist more.
"Now she regrets, i think", Senorita Fusta laughs.
They twist more, laughing and mocking me. When they release me at last, half fainted with pain, they put my bata on me. It's sleeves are sewn together behind me. In the front it closes with a strong buckle. It is a straight jacket now. They cuff together my ankles, too. They were well prepared.
As i lie on the floor helpless, they trample on me. Senorita Fusta kneels on my gagged face, causing terrible pain inside my mouth.
"Good night, filthy. See you at lunch."
And they go.
I don't describe my nocturnal rest.
Senorita Rita finds me first and releases me. She caresses me tenderly and leads me to the bathroom again.
"Senor Martin will inspect you, darling."
He does. In society of Senorita Dolores and four big male guards. As i stand before them naked, i feel again that i can't hate this man. Genoveva wants me to hate him, but i can't help liking him. It is an elementary feeling.
Senor Martin isn't content with the healing of my welts. I am rather surprised, because they are hardly noticeable by now. But he makes the chief matron responsible and commands the guards to arrest her. She resists and curses in a shrieking, throaty voice.
And this moment i recognize the voice.
It is Genoveva's voice. The voice speaking to me from the ceiling. It was her scheme to manipulate me.
Possibly Senor Martin discovered this and that is why he wants Dolores tortured so much.
I have to watch her being punished. It is horrible. The strong, commanding lady stretched naked, gagged, striped cruelly with a bullwhip. I have no reason to like Senorita Dolores, but i would like to yell: "Release her! Punish me rather!" It isn't possible, i am tied up and gagged in an invisible lodge. Oh, will her torments never end?
I can't but pity the unfortunate woman. She was mean on me, no doubt, but what does it matter? She is suffering in a humiliating way, she is broken, she is in excruciating pain.
However, i don't hate Senor Martin either. He is cruel, but i feel that somehow it is in order. I feel attracted to that cruel man.
Matron Dolores passes out. She is taken away like a piece of bloody rag.
SirStef
01-16-2010, 12:09 PM
With the tantalizing exhibit of the severely whipped amazon guard done, bidding was indeed brisk and high for the prisoners auctioned off for the evenings pleasure of our special guests.
With the auctioning done, my official duties at the party were done until guests started leaving and the "toys" they'd used for the evening had to be dealt with.
I'd been anxiously awaiting this opportunity to slip out to the observation room where Kim had been since the first of the night. As I'd expected, the guard attending her had her kneeling, naked on the floor beside the comfortable chair he occupied.
"I'll take care of her personally now," I told him, "you have other things to be done."
When he left, I took the other comfortable chair, motioning Kim to come kneel beside me. As she moved I did a quick inspection for any evidence the guard had used or abused her in my absense. Fortunately for him I found none.
So I was finally able to sit back in comfort and watch the activities before me with this delicious young female kneeling beside me awaiting my use.
The activity closest to the one-way window between us and the party room involved an old regular of the group and a lesbian domme he'd brought as a guest and a pettite mid thirties prisoner they'd won. She was small of structure so unable to endure heavy duty treatment, but had beautifully shaped legs and still perky breasts.
The activity they'd decided on was "target practice." They sat her on a small chair against a wall, hands fastened over her head. Then her shapely legs were drawn up so ankles were also attached to the wall above and to the sides of her head exposing the soles of her feet, back of her legs, complete pussy and tits.
Highlighters were used to paint targets about an inch in diameter on the exposed flesh. Two on the soles of her feet, three in matching locations of the back of her shapely calves, five on the back of each firm thigh. Sweet, shapely ass cheeks received two targets each, then four on each pert little breast.
The 'contestants' would share one single shot BB gun standing behind a line about five meters in front of their target. Now a BB gun won't penetrate the skin. The BBs will just bounce of firm flesh and possibly imbed themselves enough to stick to extremely soft flesh, but all would surely sting like hell.
Rules were that each contestant had a side - one had left; the other the right - to start with the targets on the soles of her feet, and as each was hit, they'd progress up (down) her legs to her butt cheeks, then the four on the respective tit.
From five meters a one inch target is not all that easy to hit with a BB gun, so it normally took four or five attempts to accomplish one target before progressing to the next. No-one except the trussed up target woman really cared much, as each BB hitting the target or not, resulted in a reaction to the pain. The contestants didn't want to get too far behind though since the one hitting all the targets, the last two being the respective nipple, was rewarded by having the opportunity to aim for the wide open cunt until the opponent finshed his/her course of targets.
Another little concern they had with the rules: if a nipple or the pussy were hit out of sequence, the offending contestant was disqualified.
As this game took over an hour, with screaming and crying coming from the target bearing prisoner as more sensitive parts came into play, I was carresing the smooth, soft skin of the back of the sweet morsel of young woman beside me imaging how much I was going to enjoy sinking a whip into it. But that would be another time. The evenings activities were showing their effect on my swelling cock as I released it from my pants before siezing the hair on the back of my young companions head, urging it toward my excited member.
Normally I'd prefer the slave to be naive and innocent so she'd have to be coaxed through physical punishment to perform what I wanted. In this case though, I was happy that she knew exactly what to do as she rose just enough to get those sweet full lips on my now throbbing cock. It only took a couple of minutes for me to explode into her willing mouth. Like an expert she swallowed and continued to suck hard, dragging out every last drop I had to give. Another skill that wouldn't have to be developed with the encouragement of pain. At this time, though, it felt so good, I wasn't too disappointed.
I am kneeling near Senor Martin, naked. He is sitting in a comfortable chair besides me, caressing my back. My knees soon start aching on the hard floor. It is a humiliating situation, but it is a reassuring feeling that he is here. I feel my humiliation quite natural, if it comes from Senor Martin. I don't know why.
We watch the torture of the prisoners through the one-way window. A small young lady with beautiful legs is the target, tied up in a quite distorted posture, and they shoot at her body from BB guns. Hearing her screams, i would cry out: "Let her alone! Put me into her place! I don't mind if you kill me!" But while my mind is on her suffering, my companion obliviously is enjoying it. Suddenly he opens his pants and takes his hardened penis out. He grabs my hair and pulls my head over it.
I know what he wants. I remember Tom who begged me for oral satisfaction, which was quite new for me then. I remember the beautiful African boy Uba, who gave his huge black cock in my timid mouth practically every day, until he dumped me for the sake of a prettier girl. He wanted to teach me deep throating, but i was rather clumsy, always choking.
With Senor Martin it is not difficult. He ejaculates wildly. I am careful enough to swallow all his juice. It is a humiliating but still very intimate thing. I suck and lick his male organs clean, enjoying the sour, pine-scented, live material, his sperm.
My department is literature. I am reminded of Shakespeare's Sonnet 95: "How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame..."
SirStef
01-17-2010, 05:49 PM
Would you like to bid and win the lovely Kim for an evening? Let us know, briefly, what you'd do to/with her and you may be invited to write a chapter in this RP. She can't be permanently marked or injured, of course, 'cause we need her next week. -SS
SirStef
01-19-2010, 11:41 AM
Normally when the judge sends an attractive new criminal into my care, he gets an opportunity to play with her while still in pristine, 'virgin' condition -before she's offered to the party regulars or exposed to abuse by the staff or other inmates.
In the case of Kim, this routine was interupted by the premature beating and marking by the stupid matron, Dolores. The lovely, fresh new prisoner, Kim, was just too tempting for her, the undisciplined bitch.
So the judge is on the phone, pissed because 'normal' procedure wasn't followed. To prevent him from having Dolores tortured to death for her indiscretion, I couldn't tell him the truth - had to make up some cockamamee story about her getting the flu or some damn thing.
"In any case I think she's OK now, Judge, so if you're available tomorrow night, I'll have her ready in the regular playroom." The 'regular playroom' being a special, private dungeon for myself and a very few very special guests such as his honor.
When he arrived the next evening, everything was ready. In the well appointed, very comfortable dungeon setting a bottle of the judge's favorite cognac was in place as was the electric generator with all its accessories and attachments, a selection of many needles with alcahol bath (couldn't have the highlight of this weekends party showing nasty infected wounds) all the bondage and torture furniture and, last but not least of course, the lovely young Kim. She was ready in hizoner's favorite starting position, on her back on a table, hands over her head behind her, legs spread, their vertical position maintained by chains from the ceiling fastened to cuffs on her trim ankles.
"My god, she's more beautiful than I remember. This will be worth the wait." the wizened old pervert gushed on seeing Kim when he entered the dungeon. After hanging up his coat while unable to take his eyes off her, he ran his hands over her smooth, soft legs, her body, breasts - somewhat flattened by her position, of course - and her freshly shaved pussy. Her face was filled with fear as she wriggled, trying to avoid his touch, which excited him even more. "It's going to be so wonderful watching you writhe and hearing you scream with what I'm going to do to you in the next while."
After the sweet and lovely shame, Senor Martin takes my hair and rubs my face against his male organs and his thighs. I kiss his cock. He paws my upper body a bit, then he takes the phone and calls for a guard. A male guard enters, cuffs my wrists behind my back, than takes me to the first floor. In my cell he takes off the handcuffs and Senorita Tralla and Senorita Fusta put on me the bata with the sleeves sewn together behind, holding me like a straight jacket. They order me to kneel.
"You remain so till we return, slut."
They don't return at all. So i am kneeling on aching knees till next morning when Senorita Rita comes to nurse me. She strips me and we have a sweet time together. Escorted by two male guards, she takes me into the bathroom and washes all my body, not omitting kissing it tenderly. Then she smears her balms on my skin.
"No marks on you any more, darling."
She puts a normal bata on me. I get my meal, pissed in as yesterday. But Senorita Tralla and Senorita Fusta seem very cautious this day. There is an expectation in the air. Late afternoon Senor Martin comes with two male guards. He inspects my body and grunts contentedly. They take me up, naked, to the upper floor, in a room that i have never seen before. There are various implements on the pegs and shelves.
It takes a time until i realize: these are implements of torture.
I am in a torture chamber.
I am laid on my back on a table. My hands are fixed behind, over my head. My ankles are roped to hooks on the ceiling, so that my legs are spread up. My bottom and my pussy are defenseless.
Senor Martin steps out and escorts another man in. I recognize him: he is Judge Gonzalez (http://www.bdsmlibrary.com/forums/showpost.php?p=830742&postcount=9), whom i have found disgusting like a little goblin. The Judge who sentenced me.
He paws my naked body and speaks to me about what he will do to me this night.
I am trembling with fear and disgust.