The following story depicts very explicit acts of cruel discipline.. It is entirely fictional, and is intended solely for the personal amusement of adults over the age of 21 who have expressed an interest in such material. It is in no way to be considered an endorsement by the author of the actual commitment of such acts as those described. If you are offended by material of this sort, then by all means DON'T READ IT!
The Inspector of Prisons Chapter 1 The Inspector I woke just as the plane was banking for final approach into Khym International Airport. Seated beside me on the flight from Mexico City was Tina Alverse. The 18-year-old was still asleep, oblivious to the stares of the male passengers in first class, who could hardly miss the busty blond teen in her skintight halter-top and seemly painted on hip-hugger short shorts. Adding to it where her air-conditioned chilled nipples clearly visible through the thin peacock blue material. Her shorts where so tight that the material rode up between her prominent labia. Little did she know that I had been requested to keep an eye on her during the flight. My orders had come directly from the Justice Ministry, as I was leaving a very private meeting with some Asian clients, who where seeking more of shall I say 'units' from the Khym Prison system. Normally it this was not part of my job but as Prison Inspector the call for my services took me into some strange venues. The trip had been pleasant enough, everything first class. The buyer pleased at always with both quality and transport of their merchandise. However I was anxious to get home, large cities where not my thing, and I hate to fly. Tina stirred a bit as the landing gear descended, she had no idea that her shopping trip on daddy's credit cards was about to end. In fact daddy's everything was coming to end. He, being the vice president of a local bank had just left the country with much of the bank's funds and his twenty something secretary. Only her mother, grandmother, and older sister were left, and by now they were hanging by her wrists totally naked, coated with sweat, in the interrogation cells three levels below the main court complex, howling under the guard's whip. I had met her mother a few times at the city country club, a true trophy wife, tall slim, very buxom and not afraid to show it. As we rolled to a stop I could see that Tina's transportation was waiting, a Security Force jeep and four officials, ready to escort the unknowing teen to the security compound adjoining the airport. I decided to go along with them as my Land Rover was parked near. I smiled, all was as it should be in Khym. The country's history provided a firm foundation for today's culture and government. An example of civility, taste, and discretion if ever there was one. But few knew the nation's real history and secrets as I did. First settled by the Spanish in the 1600s, Khym is still much the same, a lush tropical country. Bordered by the ocean on the west and the high mountains on the east. The coastal range makes the dense jungle interior difficult to get to even today. Only one major river affords a passage through the coastal range into the lush tropical rain forest. Khym City lies at the mouth of this river, the Marta. When the Spanish arrived they enslaved the local population and forced them to build several roads into the interior, but this soon proved too difficult. So they built barges and used native slaves to pull them by ropes up the Marta River. Most of the men fled into the jungle leaving only their women to serve the Spanish. These short muscular, dark brown females where able to endure extreme conditions. In one journal of the day a boat captain describes a typical slave, "Nature has provided our travels in this strange land with the perfect beast of burden. The Indian female is both able to endure the harsh condition and labor for long periods on the smallest of rations. She is short, yet blessed with powerful legs, and strong back. In the villages they wear a simple garment around the waist stopping just below the knee and a long tunic. But once enslaved no this is no longer needed. They appear to mature early, developing large full breasts, tipped with thick brown nipples and huge aureole. Even the younger ones can carry heavy burdens, for miles. Their dark skin and thick black hair protects them from the sun, and wind. Worked in small groups, with a lead bitch, they can be driven hard once an example is made. Flogging the dominant bitch is preferred. A hundred lashes with the braided whip while suspended by the wrists, in front of the others is always a good lesson. These females also seem very responsive to the cock, and in more than one hole, a welcome bonus for my men!" Another writer of the day describes a trip up river: "It was a voyage of conquest, as our boats made it slowly up river into the unexplored interior. Twenty females strained from sunup to sundown pulling on the two chains at the head of each boat. Shackled totally naked with wrists behind their backs and attached to the chains they labored with rough canvas hoods over their heads, all except the ones in front. This insured that a wholesale revolt was impossible. The long whip of the leand taskmaster burned into their bare butt cheeks and thighs at the slightest hesitation. Passage was easy in the thigh deep water at the river edge. By mid morning their naked bodies would glisten with sweat, the moans of labor growing louder and the yelps of the taskmaster's whip on bare female flesh melded with sounds of the splashing water." Three hundred miles up river they discovered a huge ancient Mayan complex. Soon gemstones where found and an outpost built. The slaves built a fort on one ruin, Point Marta, and worked the muddy streams for riches. This went on for over a hundred years. Generations of slaves breed for hard labor. Many lived naked their entire lives. The use of female slaves made it possible to supply outposts even deeper in the jungle. One of the largest was at the end of a long thin 80-mile long lake. The lake begins five miles east of the original riverside fort. Today this outpost is known as the Compound. It's now used by the military as a jumping off point to fight the rebels deeper in the mountains. After the Spanish came English plantation owners, and Negro slaves. In the years around World War II the Germans arrived, with a large influx just after the war. With them came, both money, and a penchant for a very private life style. There has always been rumor of the Germans bringing with them captive females from conquered nations of the east, held in secret compounds on remote plantations. The ruling society is very close knit and extremely conservative. They have found a low profile is the best policy. Khym is a democracy, and for a third world country quite prosperous. Off shore oil fields bring in enough money to make education up through college free and available to all. Control is the key, as with the tourist business and its casino's, kept in a confined and controlled area on an off shore island, the revenues supporting much of the state's military. The plantations just over the coastal range export exotic fruits, orchids and sugar cane. Banking houses, even more secret then the Swiss allow the population to be tax-free. All this and an aggressive ecology program keep foreign interests out. It is not legal for anyone but a citizen to own a business or land. The borders are tightly controlled, and though there is a slight drug problem, the trade is run by a secret unit of the security forces, as is the sex trade. The state brothels serve both the tourist trade and the local population. The general population is not wealthy by any means but quite comfortable, with low cost medical care and housing. Employment among the male population is almost total. Business thrives in a low crime atmosphere. Laws that allow for employers to have custody of female employees who commit crimes aid this. It is common for a female employee accused of a crime involving her employer to be remanded into her employer's custody for many years. His control over her being total and rigorous. The only areas of unrest are the feminist rebels. The most radical are fighters in the western mountains, where they find refuge in neighboring Cordoba. The ones at the university are well infiltrated by spies for the security forces, but are left to carry on their activities at a low level. Now and then a raid is mounted and suspects rounded up. These healthy 18 to 20 year old make for strong workers where ever they are used. Many end up serving long terms in the jungle prisons working the gem stone mines or hauling supplies for the military on the jungle trails. Others serve in government brothels or are leased out to plantations for slave labor. Some are even sold to 'private' collectors. There is no official number of these young female slaves but it's thought to be more than a few hundred. No one really protests, as the revenue for the government is a foundation of Khym's way of life. Here trials are swift and sentences harsh. Polygamy is secretly tolerated, so a daughter arrested may end up with her mother taken into custody as well, if the husband wishes to rid himself of both. These 'gentleman's' agreements are common in the male dominated world of Khym. A few weeks in the sub-basement interrogation cells of the Central Court seem to always bring guilty pleas. The civilian government and the military share the Prison system. It's made up of 5 main facilities. The over all control lying with the Bureau of Prisons, which devotes itself not to rehabilitation but to economic success. All prisoners are highly valued as property and every effort is made to prevent any permanent injury, or scaring. This is a number one rule with all the staff. In Khym the fate of a prisoner is often left up to her lawyer or her husband if she has one. In a domestic abuse case the female is most often found guilty and her husband dictates her prison conditions. He will assume this role for years even if remarried. Often visiting the prison where he can dictate the treatment and conditions under which is wife, current or divorced serves. One of the harshest prisons is Camp 5, a short-term facility near the capital. Military Camp 5 is located 12 miles north of Khym City. Up a narrow road into the coastal mountains. The base is under high security. Two checkpoints must be passed before getting to the main gate. It is the home base for the Special Forces combating the rebel menace. These elite soldiers are trained in finding, capturing and interrogation rebels. Within the camp is an under ground bunker used to house captive, female rebel officers and other high officials of the movement, often university professors. Two high barbed wire fences surround the bunker. The low flat roofed concrete building has no windows and only one entrance, it is reached by walking down a short flight of stairs. The steel door at the bottom leads to a dimly lit passage, with five doors on each side and two at the ends. Each door has a small sliding view panel in the upper half, a clip board hangs beside each door with information pertinent to the inmate. Beyond the solid outer cell door is another one of bars with a few feet separating them. These are all single prisoner cells. Constructed of concrete, with iron rings in the walls and ceiling. The only light is in a wire covered ceiling recess, and controlled by a switch from the outside. Once the outer door is closed and the light turned off the cell is pitch black. Temperature in the cells averages in the high nineties, with humidity just as high. A drain hole in the floor is the only toilet, and it can be opened and closed from a lever on the outside. Some cells have an iron mesh cot, but there are no mattress's. Cell rules are simple, prisoners are always naked and chained when in their cells. Chaining means wrists behind the back, unless a prisoner is chained to the wall or suspended from the ceiling, or chained out on her cot. This is an all female unit, and most of the time it full. The two cells at the end of the passage are used for prisoner interviews. On the lower level there are six more cells, two of them being larger then the others. One of the larger cells has five small doors on one wall. Each door is two feet by two feet, covering a three by two by two-foot high isolation cell. Prisoners must crawl in on their knees. Below the small doors is a concrete lip with a hole in the center. This hole can be plugged with a little cover to contain a few inches of water within the cell. When all the small doors are open for daily inspection all that can be seen are the butt cheeks and chained ankles of five naked females. In the center of the main cell is a rough wooden post, toped by a set of wrist shackles. Along the wall opposite the isolation cells are pegs with whips, straps, plugs, and chains. The cell next to the isolation unit is used for interrogations. There is a large wooden table and chairs for the interrogator and visitors. Two heavy metal chains, bolted to the floor are used for the prisoners, as well as a rack on one wall and a large bench with shackles on the legs. The prisoner chair bolted to the floor has most of the seat cut out, and the back is a long cross bar for chaining the arms out. Shackles on the legs can spread a prisoner open for full viewing. On the bench are two upright posts for leg shackles. It is sometimes called the 'fucking bench', as a prisoner can be chained ass up or on her back with legs up and wide open. Her head strapped down to the other end is waist high for a guard to cock train her. At the end of the passage leading to these two cells are three metal grates in the floor covering pits for difficult prisoners. They are only four or five feet deep, allowing a prison's wrists to be chained to the iron cover grate. It's not uncommon for a prisoner so spend some time in these 'holes'. However Camp 5 is not the main jail for Khym City, that facility is under the central courthouse, in the citadel district. The basement of the huge old colonial style building has a vast tunnel complex of holding cells, interrogation rooms, and transport garages. On the level below that, several small cells where used for special prisoners on their way to camp 5 for military interrogation or the other prisons. It is also through this level that tunnels connect the various government buildings. Some of these tunnels have electric carts, used by the civil servants, and others remain known to only a few with the authority to pass the electronic doors. But it was not unusual for the average civil servant to see a female prisoner, stripped to the waist or even naked being marched in heavy shackles between two guards, on her way to the transport area. All female prisoners are shackled in transport chains when out of their cells. Neck, wrist, waist and ankle chains are required. With her wrists in steel cuffs behind her, a metal pole extends from the back of the neck chain to her wrists, cuffs half way up the pole bring the elbows together almost touching. Another chain connects to the middle of the two-foot chain between the ankles. It ends at the wrist cuffs. In transport chains the prisoner is forced to strand strictly upright, with her chest up and out. If the prisoner is totally naked a guard may add a thin tight leather strap to the waist chain. This strap passing between her legs pressed deep between the butt cheeks and labia. This 'cunt' strap can hold a vaginal and anal plug in place if needed. Some prisoners also require the addition of punishing clit clip. A high security elevator is used to take prisoners directly to the courtrooms above to appear for trail. Those going for sentencing are often taken directly from their cells, appearing before the judge and whatever public is present, totally naked in their chains. To their shame and humiliation the press is allow to photograph them for restricted use. The courthouse cells are the first a prisoner sees when taken into custody by the security forces. It might be for something as minor as a traffic violation or as serious as rebel activities. In Khym society women can expect to be treated with a swift and harsh justice system found no where else. It's routine to have female drivers strip naked for a traffic violation, step out of her car and wait at the roadside, with hands behind her head and legs wide while the security forces check her papers and search her car. This is both accepted and encouraged by the population to prevent rebel activities. After an hour or so, she may be let go or brought in to the Central Court Jail for further questioning. This can last up to a week if no charges are filed. It is little wonder that women offer their bodies when stopped by a security officer. And just as common for him of accept. For petty crimes a woman may have to do public service as well as be put on display in the humiliation rooms of the Court building. Heavy labor on the public roads or laboring in the sewage treatment plant for months is the usual public service. This is performed with the minimum of clothing, in chains. A recent development for a crime committed against an employer or business is to turn the woman over to the owner of the company for up to five years or more. He then has total control over her life, from her wages, to work hours. Many employers now have special apartments for these 'employees'. They demand long work hours and full sexual service, with the threat of prison ever present. Most bosses have their work release females spend weekends and vacations in their homes confined to cells build in their basements. They may also pass her round to the board of directors if it's a large company. And when on the job, humiliation is the standard, her dress and conduct strictly dictated by her boss. It's easy to spot a work release employee by her revealing dress and humbled behavior. Most have a hard time sitting on Monday mornings because of the whip welts they earned on the weekend in their bosses hidden cells, deep beneath his home. The Marta River Prison is perhaps the best known and least visited, as it is three hundred mile up river in the jungle interior. A facility for females serving terms up to life, prisoner conditions are very primitive. The gem stone mines are directly below the main prison house. Dating back to the Spanish explorers who built a fort on top of Mayan ruins the prison has almost 200 cells. Females work a 16 to 18 hour day, with no days off, and few breaks for water and food. The Youth Correctional Facility houses those not ready for the adult prisons but deemed a problem for society. In most cases they are like Tina where the father had been engaged in some criminal activity and left the country. Located just over the coastal ranch one hundred miles into the jungle it was rarely visited by outsiders and well guarded. The low flat roofed building serve partly as a school, work camp, and discipline center. Classes for those who are not in discipline demanded strict attention, talking was not tolerated. A barracks of sorts houses the teens. Most go on to the adult facilities. Discipline was as harsh as any other prison. Below the main classroom building on two underground levels forty individual cells confine those in need of the strict methods applied to wayward youth. Some spend only a few days down there others for much longer periods. There where many rules and many more punishments. Everything has to be earned, including clothing. The isolation unit was almost always full. It was this unit where Tina would be spending much of her time once the court system was finished with her. After a final approach up the coast we landed smoothly at Khym International Airport. I waited on the plane till Tina reached the tarmac. With swift efficiency the security detail cuffed and placed her in the jeep. I gave them a wave and hopped in beside her. 'What is this all about!' she screamed, as she struggled against the cuffs on her wrists and elbows that pinned her arms behind her back. 'You and your mother have been placed under arrest for bank fraud crimes committed by your father before he left the country with is secretary. You are to be taken to a security area near here and made ready for transport to interrogation, after with a judge will hear your case.' Barked one of her guards. She looked defiant but said nothing. The guard's eyes moved to her chest, as he leaned over to pull up her top. Out popped her large firm breasts, sporting big brown aureole several inches across. She had no tan lines. 'Security policy,' he said grinning at me, 'females are transported bare to the waist.' Tina blushed in shame. Just as we arrived at the high walled security area, the ten-foot high metal doors slide open as we quickly pulled into the parking area next to a white washed building. Tina was lifted out of the jeep by her arms, uncuffed, stripped completely naked, and re-shackled in ankle, waist, neck, and wrist chains. She wined when the elbow cuffs pulled her arms together behind her back. A little trickle of sweat flowed down her spine. The guard grabbed her by the hair forcing her head back and ordered, 'MARCH BITCH!' Tina did her best, in spite of her eighteen-inch ankle chains to keep up with the two guards who held her arms as they marched her through a door into another walled in area. There she was forced to her knees and told not to move. Her eyes grew large at the sight of a woman hanging by her wrists from a horizontal beam, feet unable to reach the ground. The prisoner was totally naked, bathed in sweat. Standing next to her a guard raised his arm and lashed out with a braided leather whip. It connected with the back of her thighs just below her butt cheeks. For an instant she did not react then leaped in her chains howling. She looked to be just slightly older then Tina, thin, hard bodied. I watched as several more lashes where applied to her quivering butt cheeks. Tina was shivering, as I turned to see the Commander Santos greet me. 'Good after noon Inspector, nice to see you again. I was advised you would be escorting this one. Let me show you around, we have just broken up a rebel plot here at the airport.' Leading me over to two small metal boxes he opened the lid of the first one. In side looking up, squatted a heavy set middle-aged female, secured by her neck chain to either side of the box, arms tightly behind her. Sweat dripped into her eyes as she blinked in the sudden light. A large ball gag filled her mouth, strands from her dirty matted hair clung to her face. She looked exhausted. In the next box was another prisoner, about the same age, equally naked. Bright red welts covered her loose breasts. The nipples had not been spared. 'These two ship out this afternoon, for camp 5, the one you just brought in is going there too, a change of plans, something about state security.' Said the Commander amid the howls coming from the whipped prisoner. We just had time for an iced beer in the air-conditioned shed before the transport van arrived. All four prisoners where chained on the metal seats running along the inside walls of the van. The one who had been whipped was dragged aboard by to guards. The seats must have been hot the way the prisoners reacted. Each was ankle chained to floor rings, followed by a chain at the waist and just below the breasts securing them tightly to the wall, and then their arms pulled straight up to a ceiling ring. A penis gag filled their mouths. And lastly a rough cloth bag secured over their heads. The guard gave Tina a hard slap across one bare tit, nodding that all was ready. She yelped. The rear door slammed shut with a loud band as they pulled out. My Land Rover had been brought over from the airport. I got in turned on the air and followed the van out. The outside temperature read ninety-eight, a nice summer day in Khym. I would check on Tina in a few days but now it was time to go home. Taking the foot hill road into the coastal range where my house overlooked the city was always a pleasure at dusk, just as the lights of the capital where coming on.
Chapter 2. Training Compound Turning into my street I checked the house security system from the panel on my dash. All was well. With the push of a button the street door in the wall surrounding the house opened silently. Another fifty feet and I was in my attached garage, the heavy door closing behind me. Walking in to the living room, I felt the cool air as it poured out of vents above my floor to ceiling windows as I settled into an over stuffed chair. The city lights blinking in the evening light, the narrow streets of the old city section formed little ribbons of yellow. This was the government area bordering the river. Out at sea Catherine Island glowed with tourist hotels, casinos, and clubs. A few miles to the north Wakara Island was dark. The military base now closed the island still off limits. The only activity being in the secret underground cells that held special prisoners for Unit A, an off the books branch of the Security Forces. I had never been to the island. It was not wise to ask questions about Unit A. A few ships far out at sea moved slowly. To the south Varia peninsula was coming to life. The long narrow spit of land a few miles wide jutted out into the ocean. Its bars and brothels attracted both tourists and locals. The road in and out was controlled by a security checkpoint, looking for intoxicated drivers on the way out and minors on the way in. Many of the brothels were staffed by prison inmates who served part or all of their terms dancing on stage, and servicing the endless stream of customers of all tastes, from plush party rooms to 'pain sluts' in the lower levels. When a prisoner started brothel service everyone she had worked with was notified so they might visit her. Many employees reveled in seeing their former office manager writhing naked on stage or howling in the pain cells, as customers paid by the lash. With a glass of Roja in one hand I pushed the button on my answering machine. A gruff voice came on, 'Check the monitor for #432 and stop over in the morning.' It was General Gustof, retired head of state security. He now lived on a plantation just over the coastal range. It must be something important if he wanted to see me. Though officially retired, I knew he worked on special projects. Punching in the numbers on a the coded remote the thirty-six-inch TV came to life. This was a direct hookup to the interrogation unit below the courthouse in the old section of the city. The picture was a little dim but still visible, at the bottom it read, 'Cell #432, Pauline Gomez, age 48'. I leaned closer, the name was familiar, a university professor with rebel contacts, she had been under surveillance for some time. I saw her now, suspended by her wrists in the center of the cell, legs chained out wide by a spreader bar, toes just touching the floor. She was naked, writhing under the hard lashes of a guard's short whip as he worked over her heavy sagging breasts. From the looks of it they had been at it a while, her back, butt, and thighs criss-crossed with livid lash marks glistened under a heavy coat of bearded sweat in the overhead light. A thin chain hung down between her legs, one end apparently clamped painfully to her clitoris. Sweat flew off the whip with each lash as her large pink nippled tits flung back and forth from the powerful blows. Loud animal like grunts echoed off the walls, her chest heaving when the guard rested between sets of lashes. She clenched and unclenched her fists. Even at her age she was a handsome woman, legs still firm, only a little belly on her from having had one daughter. I could not make out her face with her head thrown back, mouth open, neck streaming with sweat, but I had seen her speak at the university. She was an accomplished speaker. Impressionable young students could read between the lines of her carefully crafted lectures. But I was surprised that she had been picked up. No doubt she would not be going back to the university after an interrogation like this! Looking closely I could see in the shadows, leaning against the back wall of the cell, jail warden Adrian Frank, and my boss, Lieutenant Brazer current head of State Security. Tomorrow I would find out what this was all about. Clicking off the TV I went to the window. Below the cliff on which the house set was a small-secluded, wooded park just off the main road. Looking down I saw a patrol car stopped next to an older model red vehicle. Splayed out on the hood of the patrol car was the driver, a dark haired woman in her mid thirties dressed in jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt. She had her arms out stretched on the hood and her legs wide. The two security officers where searching her. One pulled her T-shirt up, exposing small high breasts, while the other pulled her jeans and panties down to her ankles making her step out of them. They left her like that for a short time then returned. I could see them speaking to her. She nodded, pulled off her T-shirt, got on her knees and unzipped one of the officer's pants. Soon she was sucking both their cocks, her head bobbing up and down. When both here hard, she turned, bend forward at the waist in a wide stance, and griped the bars on the front grill of the patrol car. For the next half-hour they took turns fucking her, alternating between anus and cunt. In the end they drove off leaving her exhausted on her knees. She crawled to her car, getting dressed as best she could, before she too drove slowly away, having avoided a trip to headquarters. She got off easy, wise to offer her self rather then be taken in to headquarters. A trip to headquarters can last a week or more! Likely she had some history that could have landed her back in prison. The penalties for violation of parole are severe. The next morning I left early to see General Gustof, it was Sunday and I wanted to get home by mid afternoon. The temperature already risen into the nineties. The road to his place passed through part of the military area of Camp 5. I quickly got through the two checkpoints. For the next thirty miles I was the only car on the road. It felt both good and bad. It was peaceful but there was always the concern of a rebel ambush, however unlikely this close to the city. The Department of Prisons had issued me an MP-5, several grenades, a Glock pistol and enough ammunition to start a small war, but they would do me little good in the rear lock box. In case of trouble my 'panic' GPS transmitter on the dash would have to do. One push and a helicopter with people who did know how to shoot straight would come looking for me. I am not what you might call a high level government official by any means but it was one of those perks that came with the job. Actually, when asked I told people I was an administrator in the prison business office, and let it go at that. My business card said just that, and it was true. Rounding a sharp corner I came to the fence surrounding the General's plantation. The gate was closed. I announced myself to the intercom box, the security camera swiveled as the gate opened. A mile further on I came upon a guard working with a female prisoner. She was deeply tanned and totally naked. Her hair cropped very short, pubes hairless, the mark of a long-term female prisoner. These prisoners where leased out to plantation as laborers. The guard had her pulling fallen logs out of a swamp. She looked to be almost six feet tall, very toned, with the figure of a bodybuilder. Her brown bulging thighs, etched with muscle as she strained under the load. A leather harness encased her waist and chest binding her arms behind her back, a chain ran from her waist and wrist shackles to a long heavy log. The guard stood beside her with an electric prod on his belt, and a studded leather strap in one hand. Bending forward she struggled with each step pulling the log down the road. Several livid welts shown on her hard dark butt cheeks. In a few minutes I pulled up in front of a rambling, stucco, tile roofed estate house. The General rose from his chair on the porch to great me. 'Good to see you Inspector, let's go around back, have a drink and talk.' I followed him to a wide trellis covered verandah. We sat down as a boyish brunette woman dressed in a thin white cotton dress brought us drinks, her firm little breasts bouncing under the dress as she walked. Obediently she asked if there was anything else she could do for us. The General motioned her away. She scampered off, with a rattling of her ankle chains and stood near by, tossing her short mop of dark hair to get it out of her eyes. Looking out on the terrace, exposed to the harsh sun was the figure of a tall, muscular, and very nude female. Her deeply tanned and oiled skin gleaming in the sunlight, as she knelt on the hard tiles. 'It's not true that blondes don't tan.' Said the General. You could not have told that she was a blonde by looking at her, for her short blonde hair was hidden under a heavy black leather punishment helmet, which covered her entire head. In addition, her pubs had been shaven, exposing the well used, reddish flesh of her gaping vagina. The woman in the helmet could not see, hear, or speak with the black penis gag inserted in the mouth opening. She could barely breath inside the stifling heat of the helmet. It seemed the General enjoyed keeping her that way. I had known for a while that she was the former mistress of the Prime Minister, who supposedly had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Out of long practice, the blonde sat patiently on her folded legs, her toned arms manacled severely behind her back, elbows touching. Her chain neck leash tied to a ring set in the tile floor. Another chain ran from the center of a chain hanging between her heavy brown breasts, that chain linking the two large golden rings embedded in her thick red nipples. The rings and chain reflected the sunlight, moving ever so slightly with each breath the captive female took. A leather belt encircled her waist, attached to it another thin strap, cinched tightly between her legs, holding in her anal and viginal plugs. Her labia formed almost a complete circle of flesh around the ridged knobbed dildo that filled her. The blonde was compliant, earning harsh punishment as a reward. This was a life she had asked for, full filing some dark need. Fortunately, the General was happy to meet her need to suffer, happy to provide a seemingly endless variety of painful experiences for her to sample. The boyish brunette reminded me of a junior cheerleader. Where as the muscular blonde reminded me of that senior swimmer I had admired from afar during my first year at Stanford. The two women were in my eyes the perfect pairing, opposites physically and emotionally but closely linked spiritually like sisters or maybe lovers. With a word the General instructed the brunette to march her companion to the marble bench in front if us. As we watched, she literally ran to the side of her larger, more muscular friend. Untying the leashes from the ring in the stone, she sharply pulled on the breast leash, signaling the other woman to rise. She did not speak, knowing that her friend could not hear her through the thick leather helmet. After a slight start, the blonde rose gracefully and stood submissively in front of her smaller companion, waiting to be told what to do next. Controlling her friend through the line attached to the heavy golden rings in the blonde's long nipples, the brunette steered her across the smooth bricks to the narrow, marble bench. At his nod, she stopped her friend in front of the bench and gently positioned the blonde on her back resting on her bound arms. Without further orders, she took each of the blonde's feet and slipped them through chain loops attached to the framework for the trellis on either side of the bench, leaving the blonde on her back with her pubes fully exposed. Sinking to her knees in front of that shaven sex, the brunette looked up at the General, her look waiting for his permission. Smiling, he nodded his head slightly, indulging her. She pulled her light dress off over her head, revealing a slender toned figure.. Leaning forward, unbuckling the crotch strap, removing the discipline dildo, the little cheerleader began to lick her blind, deaf, and dumb companion. Using the flat of her tongue to wash the slick, open vagina from the sensitive skin at the rear between her cunt and her anus up to the prominent clitoris, now decorated with a golden stud piercing its fleshy mound halfway between its base and the sensitive tip. Kept in a constant state of stimulation by the stud, the woman's body responded instantly, lubricating her with copious amounts of secretion, which the brunette eagerly lapped up. As the larger helmeted woman's body shook with pleasure from the oral attention of her friend, the General picked up two large steel clips and snapped them on the reclining woman's unsuspecting nipples. She wined with a high squeal behind her gag. Each shiny wet breast showed numerous thin welts from a recent trip to the whipping bench. Then he picked up a lit candle. With her head enclosed inside the leather helmet, the blonde woman had no warning of the wax. The first she knew was the burning heat as the hot wax hit to her sensitive breast flesh, mixing pain with the pleasure she had been receiving. Again and again he dropped the hot wax onto her bare skin at irregular intervals. The wax produced pain but did no permanent harm to her tanned skin, it was the anticipation of its use when combined with the pleasure coming from the tongue burrowing inside her wet hole, which was driving the captive blonde woman mad. After some time, the General grew bored with this. Putting down the candle, he unlocked from the helmet the dildo inserted into the reclining woman's mouth. As soft moans and muffled pleas escaped from the round opening in the black helmet, he took a larger, double-ended dildo from the table and held it up for the brunette to see. As she watched, he slid one end into the wet cunt of the blonde and then slid that same end which was wet with her own secretions into the blonde's mouth, locking it into the helmet. Eagerly, the brunette slid her body up her friend's, delighting in the wet skin to skin contact, until she lay on top of the muscular, nude body of her friend. The brunette licked the large hard rubber cock jutting out of the mask, licking it with the flat of her tongue before she took as much of it into her mouth as she could, sucking on it as if it were a real cock. As she sucked the rubber cock, her body wiggled and rubbed her small orbs against her friend's large, high breasts. Underneath her, the bound helmeted blonde could only lie passively on the bench as the dildo in her mouth and throat moved to and fro aggressively in response to the efforts of the woman sucking the rubber cock. At a word of command from the General, the brunette repositioned herself above the blonde's face, above the dildo jutting out of her friend's helmet, and slowly lowered herself onto the salvia wet rubber until her crotch covered the helmeted face of her friend. She began riding the dildo, fucking her own cunt as well as the other woman's mouth with the rubber double ended cock. The General took the leash attached to the brunette's collar and tied it tightly to the chain between the blonde's nipple rings. Now each time she lifted herself off the dildo, the brunette pulled on her friend's breasts, stretching them with into elongated pink cones with each upstroke. Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, the brunette rode her friend's face, oblivious to the labored breathing of the woman under her. The General reached again for the still burning candle. Holding it above the two women's breasts, he alternated dropping the hot wax onto their breasts. The convulsions of the muscular blonde's cunt muscles every time a drop of the hot wax unexpectedly hit her breast squeezed out a little spurts of female juices wetting her thighs. Soon, both the reclining woman's breasts were encased in the hardening wax, covering both sensitive nipples and forcing him to aim for the less sensitive sides of her large breasts. The pleasure that came from using the hot wax on the smaller brunette was different, less physical. It was the pleasure of seeing the conflicting fear and excitement in the brunette's eyes as he held the candle above her wax spattered breast. . Suddenly his hand dropped, dumping all of the melted wax onto the helmeted woman's quaking stomach, goading her to a masochistic climax as her brunette friend rode the dildo in the blonde's mouth to her own climax. The General sat back down as the brunette picked up her companion's nipple chains and lead her off, no doubt to some dark punishment cell. 'Magnificent isn't she', said the General. 'I will show you where she is kept later. She was born to suffer, a natural slave. But now I need to enlist your help. It seems that the rebel cause is growing. We need someone like you who can move freely within the military and the prison system to gather information.' 'Anything I can do to help.' I responded, knowing that this was more then just a request. He continued, 'All this has been cleared with your superiors, you will visit each prison, take as much time as you wish. If you need to question anyone, by any means, feel free to do so. I insist on it. You will have full cooperation from all officials. In addition you are to visit the state brothels, and as many plantations and companies, who employ prisoners, as you deem necessary. Now let me show you my new training compound. As we waited for a Hummer to be brought around a military truck pulled up. Two guards jumped out, and opened the canvas back. They pulled out a shackled female, allowing her to fall to the ground. She looked very young, a student, clad in tattered camouflage pants, shoeless and bare to the waist, her face and body streaked with sweat and dirt, short black hair matted. The guard gruffly ordered her to her feet, pulling her up by the neck chain. He lengthened the chain between her ankles and secured a length of chain from our jeep to her neck. The General seemed pleased as we drove off with the young student trotting heavily along behind. Soon she was gasping for breath, sweat streaming down her bare torso. Her pants rode low in her hips, a tuft of black curly pubic hair just peaking out as she struggled to keep up. Soon the compound came into view around a low hill. At first I thought it was a windowless building, but when we got closer I could see it was a high cream colored wall surrounding almost an acre. A guard opened the large sliding door on the west wall of the new compound as we drove in. Our student dropped to her knees in the dirt, moaning and gasping as we stopped. Two guards came over and dragged her to a wooden frame. She was stripped naked, spread-eagled upright, arms and legs chained as wide as they could stretch, her feet just off the ground. He howled as steel clips where placed on either side of the nipples on her small hard breasts. One guard picked up a three-foot long wooden handled leather strap. With a sharp upward stroke he expertly brought the whip up between her spread thighs. The girl leaped straight up in her chains, head flying back and screamed at the top of her lungs. After three more lashes to her butt and thighs large beads of sweat broke out on naked her body. We left her howling under the lash as the guard being to methodically work over her butt and thighs. The General pointed out two low cement rings at the end of the compound. In the center of each was a gray metal box with a long arm attached. The whole thing revolved in a thirty-foot circle. Tied to the end of the arm was a rope clipped to the halter strapped on the head of a black female. Aside from her thigh length, high-heeled boots she was naked, glistening in the hot sun as she trotted, high stepping, in an endless circle. In the other training ring a very large busted, older female did the same. She too, was trotting with high steps behind the relentless machine. Her mature full mammaries flopping up and down, pounding hard her bare chest with each step. A wild look shown in her eyes as she clamped down on the rubber coated bit in her mouth. 'Pony training is becoming a popular sport in some plantations,' said the General, 'I am training these two for a cart pulling contest. You would be surprised, some of the older females can do better than the younger ones.' Pointing to the large breasted one, 'that bitch is my prize, just turned 46. Been training her for two years, she used to be a lawyer. Got caught for stealing fees from her partners firm, or at least that's what they said. I just think they wanted to get rid of her, someone said she was a real bitch.' As we watched, a guard worked them with a long longe whip, flicking the lash out at any sign of tiring. The black female's upper thighs showed the effects of the whip. 'I like to work them everyday for six to 8 hours depending on the heat. Twice a week we do a twelve-hour training. Training is the key! Endurance is everything. A pony bitch must be able to pull a two hundred-pound cart and rider for five miles at full speed. We used to do just a mile but in the past few years using these mechanical hot walkers we have built them up to five. Some are talking about going for ten-mile races soon. People think using the whip will win. I have seen a bitch beaten bloody during a race but that is wrong, training wins. Relentless training, seven days a week, no breaks. Just like these two. You feed them well, work them for long hours totally naked, and discipline them for even the smallest thing and you will see results. In fact I have found that the educated ones are the best, after they work through the shock, shame and humiliation of being naked ponygirls. ' Smiled the General. As we walked over to a low building on the west wall, I heard the snap of the horsewhip on bare flesh and a quick cry. An opening in the building led down a short flight of steps to a steel door. The General unlatched the bolts and we entered a dim passage, the barrel vaulted ceiling cabled with small lights enclosed in wire cages. Soon my eyes adjusted to the light and I could see doors on both sides of the passage. 'Feel free to take a look around,' he said, 'I have to leave you. Your car will be brought over. Keep me posted on your efforts. Use the usual codes. Good luck'.
Chapter 3. Training Cells Once inside the bunker like building it was obvious this part of the compound was not new. A little trickle of water flowed down the center of the passage. And the pungent smell was unmistakable, female prison - sweat, urine, and female juices. These are the places in Khym that few talk about but everyone knows exist. Places the society condones but wants kept secret. They provide the under pinning of a strange but effective social order, I admit a twisted morality but none the less one that has lasted thought time. Most women here are serving sentences for rebel activities, or crimes, and even a few choose this life to fulfill some strange inner need. Near the city there is a secluded beach those with these need display themselves to meet plantation owners seeking slaves. Though I have not been there, now I will have to make it my business to visit. Looking down the passage I saw that two of the cell doors where bolted shut. Each had a chalkboard on the wall next to the door. The first one read Maria English, 28 training level 4. Next to the board hung a three-stranded whip and set of straps with locking buckles. On one of the straps was mounted two long thick dildos. The short thicker one had a hole though the center with a plug at the end, for holding in enemas, the other was longer, covered in large black rubber studs. Double plugs like these were for arduous discipline. Green paint flaked off the metal as I slid the two bolts back on the cell door. It was dark inside. I found the light control below the chalkboard and switch it on. Somewhere deep in the cell a ceiling light give off enough of a glow to see. At first I thought the cell was empty but on the far wall was an iron cot. It had no mattress. Laying on it was a naked woman, chain on her back with her arms shackled out over her head to one end and her ankles wide to the support posts at the other. It did not surprise me that she was naked but that her breasts where so huge, not just large but by any standards huge. So large that they flopped to either side, with big dark oval aureole to match. Her entire head was encased in a rubber helmet with an opening for her mouth, held wide open by a steel ring gag strapped to the helmet. Hearing me come in, she arched her back, wriggling her chest as best she could in the tight chains. 'Mmmmm', she moaned, trying to communicate. I placed a hand under her right tit. I was wet and very heavy. Drops of viscous pale yellowish milk formed on her inch long thick brown nipples, quickly growing into little streams, running down the sides of each engorged breast. Raising her hips she said in garbled voice, 'Please Sir fuck me! Let me cum, fuck me hard'. Her hairless pubes where wet with vaginal juices. I rubbed the prominent labia with one hand and leaded over, 'First I have a few questions for you'. 'Yes Sir! I will answer. You don't have to whip me.' She responded. 'Tell me how did you got here.' I asked. 'I was an editor on the Khym Daily, and when my sister disappeared a few years ago I started looking for her. One day I was arrested for stealing money from the paper. I didn't do it. There was short trial I was brought here. That was two years ago. I have been a naked slave ever since. They told me if I plead guilty it would help. After two weeks of interrogation I begged to plead guilty. Every thing I owned was sold and all records of me erased. Please Sir now will you fuck me! Please touch my clit let me cum! Please Sir!' she moaned, thrusting her hips up and down. Leaning closer I squeezed one tit in my hand, the hot wet skin was tight, blue veins pulsed just beneath the surface. A spurt of milk squirted onto the stone floor. 'What is your sister's name?' I questioned. 'Kayla English, Sir' she responded. I stood up, that was a name I knew. When I got back to the office I would have to pull her file. I could hear her begging to be fucked, as I bolted the door. Across the passage was another board reading Cynthia Cortez, 19, training level 3. A whip also hung next to the board, but no dildo harness. I opened the rust pocked door. The young blond female was chained standing in the middle of her cell, bend forward at the waist, arms shackled high behind her to a ceiling chain, a neck chain ran to a floor ring. She was very thin, except for her enormous breasts that hung like engorged cows udders beneath her bend torso. They where almost perfectly round, stretching at the tops where they met her chest, with elongated nipples pointing straight down. She had the face and body of a high fashion model, leggy, long waisted, silky olive skin coated with a glowing sheen of moisture. As I walked around her, she shifted her weight from one leg to another, trying to get some relief from the large dildos strapped deep within her. 'Did they give you an enema?' I asked, seeing her bulging belly and anal plug. 'Yes Sir, three quarts this morning' she whispered. Her pink nipples had started to stiffen and leak fluid. 'Tell me about your lactation'. She moaned and answered, 'They forced me to lactate. Twice a day for three months they injected some special medication into my nipples with a long needle. It was awful! Soon my breasts started to grown, and produce milk. I used to be a C cup, but look at me now, I don't know how big I am. And I am so aroused all the time! I can't control myself. I need to cum so badly.' Tears started flowing down her cheeks as she continued. ' That was a year ago, now I produce milk all the time, over a quart a day from each tit. They milk me on a machine like a cow, chained on all fours, every day unless I am being punished like now. I am so full, I feel like I will burst!' How did you get here?' I asked. She took a deep breath, her leaking nipples distending. 'I had just started at the University. Some of us girls went to an anti-government demonstration, as we where walking home I was picked up by Security and taken in for questioning. They found out I had no close relatives and was from Marta province. After a week of interrogation, a lawyer they gave me said I should plead guilty and I would get off with probation. Every time my lawyer visited me I had to suck his cock as payment. I had never done that before. I knew I couldn't take another day being chained naked to the wall in my cell so I pleaded guilty. I was brought before the Judge with only a skirt on, in chains. My lawyer was there too and a man I didn't know. I was sentenced to five years, but for some reason I ended up here and not in prison.' She sucked in another breath struggling in her chains, swollen teats swaying back and forth beneath her. 'Please Sir tell them to milk my udders, Please!' Squirts of milk fell in the floor with each breath, beads of sweat formed on elongated taught globs. I gave one teat a hard slap, gushing out a thick stream. She pleaded, 'Please don't stop! I need to be milked! It was time to get back to my house. But as I bolted the door a guard appeared at the far end of the passage with a prisoner. The guard, a tall very muscular female dressed in knee high black boots, low cut khaki shorts and a sleeveless khaki vest was one I had seen on an early trip to the General's plantation. Her name was Bree, she and her sister Brit worked for the General, training prisoners. Both had at one time served in the prison system. On her web belt hung a short electric prod, handcuffs and a leather whip. She was over six feet tall, a bodybuilder figure, hugely muscled. The guard dwarfed her charge, a fleshy naked prisoner in her twenties. The girl was being shuffled along in tight ankle chains, wrist and elbows tight behind her back. The guard held her by the back of a wide leather neck collar, bending her back wards as she smacked her ample thighs with a strap. 'Please don't take me to punishment, please not again.' She pleaded. The guard acknowledged me and as she slammed the prisoner into the wall, ordering her to stand still while she opened a cell door. The girl grunted, pressing her small saggy breasts against the bricks. 'The General would like it if you could wait here, he needs to see you before you leave.' She said. I told her I would wait. She roughly pushed the shackled girl into the cell, un-cuffed her arms and re-cuffed them to a bar that hung from the ceiling. When she finished re-chaining her ankles wide to the floor rings, the guard tightened the ceiling chain using a crank on the wall, her feet unable to touch the floor. 'Now Cora I am going to teach you a lesson they don't teach in college! Your going to spend a week in here finding out what happens when you slack off at your pony training. Lets start with a little taste.' Smiled the guard, as she took a long braided whip from the wall. 'Nooo please nooo don't beat me. I will do anything, anything, Ahaaaa', she screamed as the whip bit into her white plump thighs. After a few minutes both where streaming with sweat. The guard took off her vest, wiping her hard small breasts with it. She then slipped out of her shorts. Wearing only boots and a small thong that barely covered her mound she resumed whipping the nude suspended prisoner. The girl howled, thrashing in her chains as the whip bit into her full thighs. She clenched her big butt cheeks, yelping as lash after lash scored red welts into her bare flesh. Resting for a moment the guard reached into her thong, unashamedly stroking her clit in satisfaction, as her prisoner gasped for air, head tossed back. I turned at the sound of the outer outdoor closing. It was the General. 'Sorry to keep you, but an agent of mine has just returned and I want you to hear the report. Let's go around the corner there is a cell where we can sit down.' I followed him to a large cell with an old wooden table and two chairs behind it. We sat down as a woman entered the cell in the company of a guard. She was quite a beauty for a woman in her late forties, shoulder length dark hair, high cheekbones and full lips. Wearing a thin sleeveless white cotton dress that clung to her body she stood at strict attention, legs wide, arm behind her. Bare foot, her ankles connected by a light chain. The buttons of her dress opened to below her naval showing off the inner sides of a large mature bust. With a nod from the General she spoke. 'I have just returned from Gala province. The rebels are planning an offensive in a few months to take the provincial capital. They plan to kidnap the wives of several high officials to see if they can get some of the Security Forces transferred out of the region. It's all very secret. They have no idea that I now work for you, but I don't know how long that will last. If I am found out I will be tortured and made a pain slave. I am sure! There are two main bases in Cordoba just across the boarder. That is where they plan to keep the women they kidnap. It looks like they have more recruits from the university. I saw some of them being trained to fight. I could tell they where new. The rebels believe women should be trained even harder then men, so they start with the new ones being trained totally naked. They must earn clothing as they go along. Of the six I saw two had on pants, one just a thong and the rest where naked. They had just gotten back from a 20-mile forced march with full packs.' The General gave another nod. 'Good work Cortina, you will be rewarded before your next assignment. You may leave.' Once she was gone he turned to me. 'I have many agents like Cortina throughout Khym, at the university, in government and with the rebels in the jungle but we still don't have the full picture. You see how serious the situation has become. But I think we can handle it. I plan to substitute the wives of these officials with out own agents. They will be new prisoners who are told they can get time off their sentences if they perform this duty. Now I must go. Your car has been brought over. Take your time looking around.' As we parted I walked past the cell where the guard had been punishing the new prisoner. The door was still open. The young prisoner, now on her knees, arms shackled behind her was leaning forward in front of the guard. The guard was holding her thong to one side with one hand. With the other she held the prisoner by her hair, pressing her face firmly against her shaved brown pubes. The whipped girl lapped eagerly between her guard's powerful thighs. 'That's it bitch use that little tongue. Stick it deep in my cunt. Now work it over my clit! Slowly. When you're done your going to wash my ass. Or do you want more of the whip on your tits.' The girl moaned and renewed her efforts. The sun blazed over head as I got in my car. The young student still hung from the beam, head fallen forward, each breath coming heavy, her body covered with thick raised welts. The black ponygirl now fully hooded continued to step high in her endless circles. As did the older white female, with the addition of a leather strap harness holding her pendulous breasts up and out. A sudden stream of pee sprayed down her hard thighs. Little bells clamped to her raised nipples tinkled.
Chapter 4. Central Court House I was in the tunnels again. I hated them. They were low, even with the vaulted stone ceilings, crud dripped down the walls, water ran in little streams along the cobbled floors. It was so easy to slip in the dim light. The little bulbs in the ceiling were string too far apart to give off much light. The thick dank air never seemed to move. It stank. But it was a quick and very private way to travel among the old government buildings in the central city, and to many other buildings. Much of the system was know to only a few people, myself being one of them. And, I must admit the tunnels were still cooler then the hundred and five-degree heat and 98 percent humidity of summer in tropical Khym. That very morning the air conditioner, what there was of it, went out again in my fourth floor office. The third time in a week. I had joked with Marsia my secretary that I would send her to prison if she didn't get it fixed. She was far too valuable to me as a secretary so it was only a tease. But the twenty-six year old dark haired beauty was always alluding to the idea of her having a life as my slave. With no living relatives and few friends it would have been easy for me to 'arrange' something that resulted in a long sentence in one of secret prison facilities. From there it was no problem to loose any records of her existence. Many a male citizen of Khym has 'off the books' labor on their plantations and even in their businesses in the city. Why not me? This was part of the success of the economy. Something to consider for the future. Today, with the heat Marsha wore a light yellow gauze dress that clung to her body, leaving little to the imagination. And she was again bra-less, her breasts swaying beneath the light material, four top buttons opened, showing ample cleavage. It seemed that the hem lines crept up on her dresses almost daily. With all this distraction I was happy to hear the phone ring. And not all that displeased to get a call asking me to come to the subbasement prison under Security Forces Headquarters. 'Marsha!' I said, 'Pull the file on a Maria English and any relative she has that are in prison. I want to read them when I get back, this afternoon. And get that damn air conditioner fixed.' It's not that I get lost in the tunnels, but even after 20 years of service as prison inspector it's still easy to loose ones way and have to back track. But this time I quickly came to the electric gate in area T4. A sharp press on the button, the password shouted into the rusted wall speaker and a guard in Central Control focused the surveillance camera on the opposite wall in my direction. Two seconds later the remote lock on the bars buzzed and I was in. Turning down C5 and through another set of bars, I turned into the tunnel leading to Army Security Headquarters. Hearing the rattle of chains I stopped as two burly guards with a prisoner trotting between them came towards me. One of them I recognized from a visit recently to the government's secret slave prison, 200 up river in the jungle. Raul, the warden was an old friend of mine boss over Matra Point prison, and its various compounds. I made a mental note to contact him about this whole business the General wanted me to look into. As the guards came up to me, the one I knew pointed to his prisoner and said, 'This is one that might interest you, Inspector'. I immediately recognized her as the feminist university professor, Laura Quentz who had disappeared two months ago. She had just given a speech against government censorship. Now she was in full transport chains, ankles hobbled, arms behind her, a chain from her wrists to each ankle, she stood at attention, her brown eyes wide with anticipation. The pole from her neck chain to wrists kept her arms straight down her back, and with elbows strapped together her bare chest was forced up and out. She was totally naked, pubes shaved bare, hair cut very short. At 42 years old Laura was still quite presentable, with her big loose breasts hang bare almost to her belly, tipped in thick pink nipples, pointing to the ground, like the teats of a milk swollen cow. The prisoner stood with ankle chains taught between her legs. Her breasts thrust up, as an offering. 'I see you have been training her, but she could use more.' I said, looking at a roll of fat on her belly and heavy wide thighs. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, unable to breathe through her mouth as it was filled with a large penis gag, forcing her jaw to stain wide open. 'Yup, we have had her for two months, didn't take long to break the bitch, a week in the interrogation cells, stripped and chained.' he said, motioning to the raised welts which covered her breasts, many across her big aureole. She had endured some rough nipple punishment. 'She gave up the whole network, seems most of the Cortez provincial women's soccer team where using their travels to make contacts for the rebels. We rounded up eighteen in all. Including two female coaches. They have been in the subbasement cells for over a week, being processed. All will be pleading guilty and get long sentences. The bitches are in top shape, they should make good workers. Laura here was sentenced yesterday, we are just taking her to the transport boat for the trip to Matra prison.' Laura moaned softly behind her penis gag, a trickle of drool running down her bare chest. 'What kind of sentence did she get', I asked. The guard smiled, 'judge gave her maximum, at level 4, they should get a good twenty years of labor out of her before she goes to the brothels.' 'Good, its about time', I said, looking at Laura. Her aureole were all puckered, pebbled with little bumps and ridges, she was aroused, even her puffy bare labia was wet with more than sweat. I had witnessed it before, an assertive educated female relishing her new found slavery, once the trappings of society was stripped away. The guard turned, 'have to get this bitch to the boat, they want you to take a look at the others. There are a couple of nineteen year olds that Raul will enjoy, all muscle with huge tits,' they both laughed, trotting Laura down the tunnel, her fleshy legs pumping to keep up. 'Mmmmmm, maximum', I thought, that meant sixteen hour days for Laura in the fields or the mines, working naked with the guard's whip ever present. And nights chained in barren cells pleasing the guards with her mouth, cunt and ass. She would have a lot to learn much of it howling in the discipline cells. This professor would soon be a student again, and if her work were not the best she would be taught some hard lessons. There were no grades in Marta prison just the whip on bare female flesh. But, quickly my thoughts returned to the present. Coming to a solid steel door, I buzzed and was let into a larger passage. It was lined on each side with rusting doors, all bolted shut except for two. The guard inside told me to look around while he got the commandant. 'Take a look,' he said pointing to the little view panels on the doors, 'some of the bitches are still being worked over, before we start transport'. There were ten doors in each side of the passage. I walked down to one end and slid back the viewing door. The pungent sweet smell of sweat, and female juices came drifting up. Light from the wire caged ceiling bulb was not all that bright but I could see three females in the barren stone walled cell. They stood in a line, arms shackled behind them, and wrist chains running up to rings in the ceiling. All were bent over at the waist, arms pointing painfully up. Their legs chained wide to floor rings. Each had on a full leather hood, with only the nose hole open. Streams of sweat run down the naked bodies of the young prisoners. The middle one started to struggle as she heard me at the door, her hard firm breasts wiggling beneath her almost horizontal torso. I stepped back to read the paper on the door. It said #3948 female, 20 yrs old, student. 5'8" 110lbs. 34D,26,34 v-7"/5", a-2" #3949 female, 19 yrs old, student. 5'7" 125lbs. 38C,28,36 v-8.5"/5" a-2.5" #3950 female, 22 yrs old, student. 5'6" 150lbs. 40D,28,38 v-8.5"/5" a-2" Days held: 10 Chain: Punishment restraints Clothing: none Hood: as needed Gag: at all times Sexual usage: no Feeding: bowl on floor, twice daily Whippings: daily Visitors: none Shave: just pubes I knew the 'v-' measurement was vaginal depth and thickness. It was made during their medical examination, indicating how deep a dildo could be inserted and it's size. The 'a-' was the diameter of an anal plug the female could take. These where used by the guards for finding discipline plugs. Their files would have many more measurement, such as breast circumference and nipple sizes, gag sizes, chain sizes, and more. Later at the prison they would do endure and sexual ability test. Every female in the central jail was given a complete medical inspection. Carried out on the level above, the long, humiliating exams where done in open cells, in full view of other prisoners being taken back and forth from the courtrooms. It was also a main hall for security people, visitors seeing prisoners, and lawyers. Often the three bays for exams would be full and several carts with prisoners could be seen parked on the side of the hall. These steel carts had shackles at one end for wrists, and a forehead strap. Along the sides, straps across the chest and hips held the prisoner tightly down. At the foot end stirrups, with ankle straps, forced the legs up in the air, wide apart. With a speculum splaying her vaginal lips and anus wide open a woman was on full display. Exams where always performed totally naked. A sheet for modesty was unheard of. Six to eight hours was normal for a female prisoner to wait in this position, sweating on her cart in full view of everyone. Her anus and pubes raised up, butt cheeks just touching the cart. Part of the procedure was an orgasm test. A small massaging cup strapped over the clit and two others on the nipples where attached to a little control box and set on automatic. Most females begin to show signs of arousal after a few minutes, deeper breathing, flushing of the neck and chest, curling of the toes, and quiet moaning from their penis gag filling mouths. The control box was set to respond to these and stop just short of climax, with the intensity increasing after a set time. Those waiting in the public hallway, bathed in sweat, moaning on their carts, always got a laugh from the security staff, especially the older ones. An hour or so into the test an orgasm was allowed and recorded by the control box. I have seen prisoners in the their forties and older, flushed with shame, nodding to their lawyers as they wriggled, hips pumping, nipples stiff, a puddle of female juices under their butts as they came again and again despite themselves in the hallway. All this was used as evidence in court and for sentencing. I closed the panel in the cell door, all was routine, with these three. In the next cell a female was on her knees, naked, arms shackled and strapped behind her, sweating torso, ankles chained wide to the floor rings. She was vigorously sucking a guards cock. He held a long back punishment strap in one hand and her hair in the other. With lips pursed she ran her wet mouth back and forth along the underside of his stiff cock, stopping ever few strokes to suck each hairy ball and wash it clean. Then she sucked the head of his penis till it grew even larger and redder. The prisoner was working very hard her head bobbing up and down. Looking closer I could see why, the student's butt cheeks where criss-crossed with thick raise welts. She was very toned, with large muscular thighs, ribs clearly visible as she sucked. Another one from the soccer team. Stepping back I read the paper on the door. #3952 female, 20 yr. old, student. 5'9" 140lbs. 34D,26,36 v-7.5",6" a-2" note: soccer team captain. Start punishment training, keep in strict restraints, naked. I heard screaming coming from the third cell. Taking the papers hung on the door I read: #3954 female, 38 yr. old, student. 5'6" 120lbs. 34A,26,40 v-8.5",6" a-2" note: Head coach of soccer team. Single, suspected lover of assistant coach. Been with the university for 15 years, under surveillance for 7. Confirmed rebel contacts. Known to have lesbian relations with members of the soccer team. Reported to use a belt strap on the bare buttock of players as a discipline measure. She also has a small country house where selected players are invited for weekends. Recent interrogation of players' revealed that she and the assistance couch would select four players, have them strip naked and hold out their breasts. Each receiving a lash on her bare breasts till one broke down, she becoming the team slave. This slave would be kept naked and chained the entire weekend, performing sexually for the others, with nights spent in a dirt floored punishment room. Five of the players now being held have served as 'team slave', two did this twice. And one spent her entire summer vacation with the coaches, this was prisoner @4010, Jana Quentz, 22 year old daughter of professor Laura Quentz, who has just been sentenced to Matra Point prison. 'Interesting!' I thought, so the daughter of the professor I just ran into was also among the soccer players. Marsia will have to pull her complete files too. But now for the head coach, I opened the cell door. The two guards only glanced at me, and went back to their work. Between them, suspend off the ground from the ceiling chains was the coach, her legs chained wide as the guards worked her slowly over with their heavy strap whips. She bucked and howled as the sweat flew in all directs from the lashes. Glistening in the dim light, I could have mistaken her for a male prisoner, so muscular and defined her body was, but her small tits and large brown nipples revealed her as female. They had been at it a while, the backs of her legs, and butt cheeks shown with thick raise red welts. Every few minutes a guard would lash out with the strap, cracking it across her hard small butt. And she would leap again the chains, howling, and gasping, till she recovered. Little streams of sweat ran down her torso, her matted hair covering her eyes. This was a punishment whipping, and example would be made of her, for she was to be the main witness against the soccer team, after pleading guilty herself. I leaned against the wall and watched for a while, as one guard begin to administer the strap across her bare nipples. Her howls turned in shrieks, she writhed and bucked under the strap. This was known in security circles as a 'bitch breaker'. After a while they took her down and she collapsed on the floor, but on command she struggled to her feet. They ordered her to stand with hands at the back of her neck, and legs wide. I asked her, 'do you know what is expected of you in court?' 'Yes, Sir' she gasped. 'I am to plead guilty to rebel activities, name the members of the soccer team, and beg for the maximum sentence.' 'And what else?' I demanded. 'I will confess to being a feminist lesbian, and using women from the soccer team as sex slaves at my place in the country.' I nodded, and do you have anything to ask me? 'Yes, Sir, please don't let them beat me anymore, I will do anything, let them fuck me instead, or I can suck their cocks, please Sir.' she begged. 'Continue', I said to the guards, as they attached chains to her ankles and hauled her up, upside down. After a few more lashes into her spread labia they hoisted her up a little higher and hanging by her ankles, she eagerly begin sucking the guards cocks. Closing the door I started looking for the Quentz daughter. I soon found her. She was just two cells down. The papers read: #4010 female, 22 yrs old, student. 5'8" 140lbs. 44D,28,38 v-7.5",5" a-2" Note: Jana Quentz, is the daughter of convicted rebel feminist university professor Laura Quentz, who has been sentenced to level 4 of Marta Point prison. It looked like Jana would be joining her mother. Raul the warden had a perverse sense of humor about these things, I had seen cases where mother and daughter were serving together. And from the looks of it both met Raul's taste for beautiful inmates. Jana's cell door was open. Her court appointed lawyer with her. I stepped in side to listen. Two chairs and a small wooden table had been brought in. Set on one side, in a light sleeveless dress was Jana, wrists cuffed behind her. The dress was several sized too small, the buttons on the top straining. It was clear that she was bra less, as the material clung to her sweat soaked body, revealing every curve as well as her large nipples. Across the table I recognized Lila Morris, a state assigned lawyer who specialized in these cases. Lila had once spent a year in prison on some minor offense and agree to work for the state. As a woman it made for a nice show of fairness. Lila was consulting her client about what to say in court. 'Jana, you must know that with the conviction of your mother, and your involvement on the soccer team it's a sure conviction for you. They also know of the summer you spent at coach's house, it will go hard on you. But there is some hope. If you plead guilty, admit that the whole team was involved with passing information to the rebels, and ask for the maximum sentence, the court might go easy on you. You might even get off for cooperating.' Jana looked up, 'OH! do you really think so? I saw what they where doing to the other girls, it's so awful, I don't want them to do that to me!' 'Good', said Lila. 'I will ask that you sign this statement and go before the judge in a private hearing. Now I know this sounds strange, but we need to give the judge some sign that you have repented and wish to be punished, so he will go easier on you.' 'But what can I do, other then tell him?' Jana whispered, trying to shake the sweat off her face. 'Well', Lila continued, 'you saw how the others are, I have seen defendants go before the judge just like that.' 'Oh my! you can mean naked?' Jana gasped. Lila looked her directly in the eyes, 'Now Jana, he know what went on that summer at the coaches house.' Jana blushed, 'yes, I as so ashamed of that, I know your right, I will do it, if you think it will help, I will go before him naked.' 'Good, than its settled', said Lila. All was in order. Time to get back to the office. Tomorrow I planned to visit the State Brothels.
Chapter 5. State Brothels The sun was just setting as I crossed the Marta River Bridge, leaving the city behind. A little further on was the half-mile causeway to Channel Island. The three square mile island, an ancient plug blown out of a volcano, rose out of sea near the mouth of the Marta River. Surrounded by high sheer cliffs the causeway was the only way off and on the island. At each end of the causeway a security checkpoint made sure that only adults would enjoy the pleasures of the casinos, hotels, restaurants, galleries, and resorts. One of the main attractions was the brothel district in the old fort. Within it's walls over a dozen clubs catered to all tastes, the largest being Tarl Cabot's where I was headed. Being early evening the fort was just coming to life, it's bistros starting to fill. I turned my car into the tunnel like opening in the ancient fort wall passing through another security checkpoint. This was the only way into the fort. Security used a very sensitive scanner system to assure that no inmate escaped. Each woman who worked in the brothels, be it a long term inmate from the prison system serving part of her time in the 'hell cells' or a women sentenced to serve a few weekends for some minor violation, had a small coded sensor embed under her skin, which could be detected more then ten feet away. This made escape almost impossible. It was well know that attempted escape was an automatic life sentence at hard labor. I drove two blocks though the narrow streets and pulled up in front of Cabot's. A tall young woman dressed in a skin tight, neck to ankle, sleeveless latex jumpsuit and high heels ran quickly up to the car and opened the door. I could tell by her hot flushed face, she was very uncomfortable in the stifling outfit. The air temperature was till in the upper 80's. Her heels must have been six inches high and looking closely I could see the outlines of a thick vaginal plug held in by the clinging black latex. I tossed her the keys even before she could ask if I wanted valet service. Her partner stood at ridged attention, hands clasped behind her head, chest up and out at the club door waiting for the next car needing valet service. She looked straight ahead, sweat dripping down her smooth oval face. I know the small bulge in the shiny black latex that covered her ample tits was a nipple clamp. As the reddish glow of the setting sun painted the sky I decided to walk around a bit. The atmosphere was a cross between a Moroccan Suk and the New Orleans French Quarter. Warm light from gas lamps bathed the cobble stone streets. In front of me, three men in business suits where talking, one of them said to the others, 'Did you know that Maria from the filing room was sentenced to four weekends of service at Cabot's. She was behind on her rent so her landlord took her to court. You know her, the thin shy one with the short blond hair, about thirty. I sure would like to see that bitch, they have her whoring on the street. Lets check around the corner.' As I follow them around the corner one of them yelled, 'There she is!' pointing to slim young woman. She stood in front of a large stucco wall with half a dozen others, all trying to get the attention of passing cars and men walking by. The women ranged in age from late teens to early sixties. Some wore micro skirts, and halter tops, others like the one sixty year old where in hip hugger shorts split up the side to the waist and sleeveless T-shirt tops that came just to the bottoms of their breasts. Each had on a wide steel collar with a chain leash hanging down. The three men crowded around the only female that was totally naked save for her high heels. Maria, the file clerk, blushed with shame at being seen by people who knew her from work. One of the men said, 'Well look who we have here! It's little Maria from the file room. Have you always shaved your pussy Maria? I never thought you where the type, but it does make up for your little tits!' Maria's face and chest grew even rosier as another said, 'Lets get a room for a few hours, I bet Maria would like to show us what you have learned here. Wouldn't you?' She nodded weakly, shifting from one foot to another, as a trickle of sweat dripped down between small white breasts. 'How long you been here Maria?' he asked. 'Just an hour this is my second weekend. It's so humiliating! I am so ashamed! Please, Please don't tell anyone at the office, I don't know how I could face them on Monday. They gave me a choice between this and six months in prison, I though this would be better, but I never dreamed I would have to be naked!' They all laughed, and one said 'Well Maria if you treat us right we won't tell anyone at the office, right guys!' 'Sure', they echoed. Maria pushed her chest out a bit. Behind me a man shouted to his friend, 'Cost us only a little more'. His friend yanked up on the leash of a mature full-bodied redhead. 'Your ours for two days bitch.' He said pulling down her halter-top to bare a pair of large white heavy breasts. 'We have permission for the pain cell!' Wide eyed she protested, 'No nooo, I am only here for three months, that was not part of my sentence, please Nooooo don't take me to the pain cells I am just a university student, I am not ready for that!' She yelped as he slapped her left tit, leaving a red handprint and led her away in handcuffs. As the men went in the club leading their whore by her leash, I watched the oldest one, trying to keep her pendulous breasts under her T-shirt, as a large black car pulled to the curb. It's back window rolled down, and a hand came out pointing to the sixty-year-old. She hurried over, placing her hands on the top of the car and leaning forward, the bottoms of her fleshy tits showing, their large dark nipples pointing down. A hand came out and jerked up her T-shirt. She blushed as her hanging udders where roughly stroked up and down each held like a piece of meat being weighed and judged. Her long dark nipples stiffed with more pinches and twists. An order came from the car. She quickly pushed down the waistband of her shorts to expose her large belly. 'Please Sir! I need to make my quota, or they will whip me. I am a half price bitch. Let me serve you and your friends I am very good at sucking. I have to serve each weekend for a month and I am behind in my quota, if I don't meet it they will sentence me to a year.' She pleaded. 'Lets see it all,' came a voice from within the car. She blushed but complied at the order to reveal her pussy, pulling her shorts down, revealing meaty thighs and thick shaved labia. A command from inside the car ordered her to spread her legs wide and hold her smooth labia open. Blushing with humiliation she did so, enduring a few minutes of clit rubbing. A small crown was gathering to watch her pant and wiggle in naked display. Sweat trickled down her wide back. A shiny wetness coated her large soft thighs, as the bystanders laughed making fun of the sixty old in her public degradation. A man from the club suddenly appeared, and spoke to the driver. The window in the back rolled up as the man from the club pulled the almost naked whore's leash, walking her to a door in the wall. She knew enough to walk with her hands at the back of her head, elbows back. Soon he returned with her in tow. She was now totally naked expect for heavy ankle chains, each wrist shackled to the back of her waist chain and a full rubber hood encasing her head, leaving two small nose holes for air. Two tight elastic bands encircled each hanging tit, biting deeply into the mature flesh, forcing the aureole to a painful bulging cone of mahogany teat. The car truck popped open. She was lifted up, placed on her belly and re-shackled into a strict hog-tie. In spite of the hood I could plainly hear her screaming, 'Noooo, Nooo, not six months, I was sentenced to just weekends. There must be some mistake. You have the wrong person..' The truck lid slammed down amid the laughter of the small crowd, except for the others on display. They all knew the same fate could await them. There might be no return from a ride chained naked in the trunk of a strange car. Each street whore had to fill a daily quota. For most of them it took twelve to sixteen hours, but for the plain ones and the older ones it could take much longer, so they had to work hard at attracting attention and offering themselves at every opportunity. They soon learned that even if they did not have to bare their breasts or fully expose themselves, they did it anyway to attract customers. Many a shy secretary or school teacher soon found themselves voluntary naked in public, offering their bodies to strangers. They never dreamed of using words like fuck and cunt would enter their vocabulary. But there they stood, the plain ones holding their labia open to strange men saying, with blushing humiliation. 'My cunt is real tight, fuck me tonight Sir.' Some even volunteered for the pen, an area just down from where I stood. The pens where unique to Cabot's. As the car drown away, someone taped me on the shoulder. It was Tarl, owner of the club. 'Welcome Inspector, my security cameras spotted you.' 'Nice to see you again', I understand the General sent you. We need to talk, but first let me show you around. That old bitch you just saw, used to be a school director. The men in the car where once her students. She had some problems with money and got a four-weekend sentence here, had to serve it out in that little T-shirt and shorts. So humiliating for her. The judge give her a quota of twenty cock sucks or fucks a day, but she didn't get half that. Last weekend she went topless but that didn't help. One of her former students spotted her and made arrangements to up her sentence to a year on his father's plantation. They didn't tell her of course. Even now she thinks it's going to be six months. I have been to the that plantation, he has some cells back in the hills were the conditions are harsher than most prisons. I wouldn't be suprised if she were sold in slavery.' We walked through the crowd, back to the club entrance. The female valets where busy parking cars as we entered the club. A pretty young hostess dressed like the valets outside, in neck to ankle black latex jump suit escorted us though an arched hallway into the main club. When she turned I saw that the back of her jump suit was cut out, except for the neck collar, exposing her entire back and half of her high round butt cheeks. The main club area was a very large room, with black walls and ceiling, a long chrome bar, and shiny low tables and chairs. Each table had a small shaded light giving it an intimate glow. On two raised stages dancers slowly writhed to the heavy beat of the music. The place was packed with both male and female customers. The dancers for the most part wore only the smallest of G-strings, thin leather collars, and calf high boots. Their oiled bodies sparkled in the spotlights. Each was deeply tanned, hair slicked back. The waitresses moved quickly from table to table. Like the others they wore skin tight latex jump suits, opened in a deep V down the front, to just above the pubes, showing off the inside of their breasts. Several also had a crotch opening exposing bare labia, they looked ashamed at the exposure as their white flesh protruded out in sharp contrast to the black latex. Others had their butt cheeks bare. Looking at them Tarl commented, 'Most of the ones in this room are serving short sentences, from three to six months for minor charges. The latex body suits are very hot and restricting, and exposes just what they don't want exposed.' He said with a laugh as a thin young waitress came to our table. Expect for a wide neck collar her entire front was exposed right down to her bare pubs. She was flat chested with large ruby nipples and big fleshy labia. A look of total humiliation on her round smooth face. As a trickle of sweat dripped down her bare chest she glanced quickly at Tarl then averted her eyes to the next table. It was obvious she knew the four men seated there and did not want them to notice her. Tarl nodded, 'The usual'. But before she could scamper away to get our drinks the men at the next table waved her over. By the time she got to their table her face and chest where a deep blush of shame. 'I thought it was you!,' one of them said. The whole table laughed to the girl's added distress. 'I bet your ready to take our drink orders aren't you Gisele?' he said. 'Yes Sir.' She responded in a whisper. 'Sir?', he said, 'they do train you well here, you never called me that when you worked in my father shop. I bet they trained you for a lot more then just getting us some drinks. How long was that sentence they give you for stealing from the store? A year? I guess they didn't believe your innocent plea. Well let's see what you can do before we order.' He pointed to a dildo mounted on the edge of the table. 'Mount it bitch! And take our orders'. She moved up to the edge of the table and started to rub the thick black rubber phallus between her bare labia. As the men watched it soon became wet and she raised herself up on tiptoes wiggling till it entered her wet pussy. Again they laughed and ordered their drinks as she pumped the dildo. She was so flustered, blushing deeply, she almost forgot to say, 'Thank you Sir for letting me fuck the dildo and getting my cunt wet, I will be right back with your drinks.' But before she could go one of them said, 'Oh and Gisele bring back a leash and shackles, tell the bar tender to reserve one of the rooms for a few hours, we are going to have some fun with you.' Again they laughed. 'Yes Sir' she said, 'Do you want a regular room or one of the bitch breaker cells in the cellar. The dungeon cells are an extra charge.' 'The dungeon.' He said, 'We want to see how you fuck and suck in nip clamps with the whips!' as they all turned to watch the dancers, she rushed off. Soon our wine arrived, a full-bodied, Merlot. 'Let me show you around, we have added some new rooms since you last visited. In addition to the usual short sentence females we have been getting some of the more hard core ones from the prison system. They allow us to offer a more extreme from of service for our customers. These prison system inmates have few limits on what we can do with them and how hard and long they can be worked.' Tarl explained. We finished our wine, getting up to continue the tour. At the next table the little waitress, Gisele, had returned with the men's drinks and a leash and shackles. As they had her put them on she pleaded, 'I know it's against the rules to ask but please don't take me down to the cells. If you do they are allowed to keep me there for the rest of my sentence as a no limits slave. That could be eight months!' The men all laughed. Gisele's nipples where stiff. Tarl led the way to a passage near the bar. It want down a slight incline opening to a brick lined chamber with several other passages leading off in different directions. Tarl turned into the closest stopping at a steel door, he slided back a small view panel so I could see inside. 'This is what we call a milking room, the customers love it, there is even a video camera inside that the people in the bar and see.' Looking though the small panel I saw a very small room, perhaps only four by five feet, brightly lit with smooth white walls. Two of the opposite sidewalls had small waist high holes in them. Sticking out of each hole was an erect cock. In the room a totally naked, skinny, flat chested female had her mouth on one cock, her right hand on the one next to it and her left hand on the one poking though the opposite wall. She was working each vigorously, her head pumping up and down on the one in her month while stroking the other two with her hands. The floor and walls below the holes looked sticky wet with cum. She too was cover with streaks of sweat mixed with cum, her short black hair matted, chest and thighs heavily coated. Working frantically she switched cocks as the one in her right hand begin to squirt a thick stream of cum. Part of it splattered in her face before she could get her mouth over the ejaculating member. 'We have two other rooms like this one. Most of the bitches working them are serving one to two year sentences. This one was a schoolteacher, she refused her administrators sexual advances so he arranged to have her charged with stealing. She is 37, had only one lover when she was twenty-five. One of those plain types nobody notices. You can imagine her humiliation doing this for 12 hours a day! After her shift here she goes into a fuck cell, just an iron cot with a thin mattress. There she works for another 3 hours as a whore. We don't allow her to bath, some customers like a sweat coated cum covered whore. She is then allowed to sleep in that cell till her next milk room shift, unless some discipline is needed. This one was easy to train, took only a few whippings. Now lets go now to the cellar area.' Tarl said as we walked back to the main chamber to find another passage. The air became warmer and more humid the deeper we went into the old part of the fortress. After making our way down several ancient passages we came to a heavy security door. Tarl slipped a card into the lock. A small green light came on. Opening the door he explained 'this is the back way into an area we call the bitch breaker cells. The customers come down here by elevator an that opens into the public area, made up of ten cells where for a fee they can torment a female of their choice or bring one down from the club or street. What they don't see is an even larger complex of cells the military secretly uses for interrogations. It really an underground high security prison. Most of females held here are rebels or rebel sympathizers from the university, ones stopped at the borders, or within Khym City. They are as a security measure, no lawyers, trials or visitors. The exact location of where they are is a state secret. Some go on to prisons in the jungle, or are quietly sold out of the country, after interrogation. We never execute a prisoner they are too valuable. A few we use as agents within the rebel movement. More then 50 females are now underground agents posing as rebels. Let me show you one that might be useful to us.' After descending several more flights of old steps and passing through another security door Tarl lead me down a gray passage to several cells. I walked carefully, the only light came of widely spaced bulbs where the vaulted ceiling met the wall. At the far end was a large cell, its door open. Inside a young female prisoner sat, strapped down tightly to a heavy wooden chair. The seat of the chair was two narrow boards at right angles, forcing her thighs wide apart. Straps held her ankles and thighs firmly down. The back of the chair was just an iron post with a cross piece to which her arms where shackled outstretched to either side. A waist strap secured her to the back post. She was totally naked coated with a thick layer of sweat. The kind of sweat that comes from enduring long hours of hard interrogation. Her hair had been cut very short, matted and wet as was her hairless pubes. The wide angle of her legs spread open the young prisoner's bare labia showing a small metal clamp that held the hood of her glistening clitoris back. Just visible were the ends of two metal studded dildos. One anal, the other filling her vagina. From each dildo electric wires ran to a control box on a table, tended to by a security guard. I immediately recognized the prisoner as Tina Alverse, from the plane. The eighteen-year-olds eyes widened when she saw me. She wiggled slightly in the restrains causing her large high tits to sway. Then her mouth tightened in response to the needle clamps that pierced the base of each erect nipple. Wires also lead from these clamps to the guards electric control box. It looked like she was about to say something, but reconsidered. Holding her mouth wide open was a steel ring held in with a strap around the back of her head. Another needle clamp pierced her tongue forcing it out through the ring. It too had a wire to the box. Tarl nodded to the guard. Tina's started to moan as he applied the current to her dildos, then in rapid succession tits and tongue. She arched her back, chest thrusting up and out, and began to wail. Large beads of sweat burst out on her smooth shin as the banker's daughter strained with every muscle howling like an animal under her punishment. Perspiration on ran down to the undersides of the teens jutting tits and trickled over her belly in little hot streams, wetting her dildo parted labia. After a long minute she slumped, gasping, the current stopped. Tarl moved closer running his fingers over her hot tits, making little patterns in her sweat. Speaking quietly he said, 'Now tell the Inspector everything you have told us, unless you want another stock'. In a horse garbled voice Tina began. 'I was a messenger for the rebels, carrying notes from my classmates and professors at the university to Mexico City. My mother and older sister had asked me to do it. My father also knew, but when his secretary found out he decided to run off with her and the bank's money. I took the messages to a small group of rebels in Mexico who are trying to buy weapons. Their leader is Pauline Gomez the professor. She was the one who told my father's secretary and caused him to leave my mother and the country. If there were some way to get back at her and the rebels for what they did to my family I would do it! She screamed. 'And do you know the names of the rebels you had contact with?' Tarl asked. Yes, the three at the university who are students of Professor Gomez and the three in Mexico City, I have already told you those.' 'Do you know what would happen if they find out you told us?' he questioned. 'Oh yes! They would have me kidnapped in taken to one of their jungle camps, I know what they do there to traitors of the cause. It's awful.' Tina moaned. 'They told us traitors are worked in the jungle camps from dawn to dusk with no rest, broken under this whip, to build underground bunkers. I don't want to end up like that! I will plead guilty. I will ask mercy from the judge, even if it means a long prison term. It would be better to be a whore then serve under the rebels in the jungle.' 'Well,' said Tarl 'We may have a way out for you. It will spare you both prison and the rebel's revenge. If your willing you can be a spy for us, free to travel and report, posing as a rebel. The alternative is prison, a prison as harsh as any rebel camp. And your mother, sister and grand mother will join you in that prison, unless you cooperate.' Tina straightened up as best she could. 'Yes I will do it! But please don't torture me any more. I will do anything you ask.' 'Good,' said Tarl 'Now I want you to tell the security officer again about your sex life, every detail, who has fucked you, how you masturbate, everything.' 'Please Sir, must I do it again, I told you things I have never told anyone.' Tarl looked sternly at the sweating naked teen. She whispered, 'Yes Sir I will tell you everything again. Every detail.' As we left Tina's interrogation cell, I could hear her screaming again from another shock. 'She will make a good spy for us. Young and strong, she hates the rebels even more than us. When you can, visit her mother and the others they are being held at Camp 5. I understand they are all as good looking at this one, even the fifty-four year old grandmother. Tina is the key to the rebel's Mexican connection, she even told us she served as a sex slave to them, but before she goes I want her to get a taste of both the sex cell here and the punishment-training unit. It will impress upon her what will happen if she fails.' We left the security area, passing several cells of prisoners. A few of them clothed but most naked. Some shackled with handcuffs, others suspended from ceiling chains. In the public cells customers brought a female from those working on the streets or in the club. They rented the cells by the hour. Each was equipped with numerous whips, chains, and clamps. Maria, the file clerk was in the first cell we came to. Her three co-workers had her hanging from the ceiling by her wrists. Two held her legs wide while the third fucked the helpless female. From the looks of the welts on her back and chest they made good use of the cell's whips. Maria moaned and grunted with each cock thrust, throwing her head back and screaming out. In the next cell the redhead for the street, was also chained by her wrists. Each tit encircled with thick elastic bands that bit into her bare tit flesh. She was bend forward with one man behind her working his cock in and out of her anus while his partner forced his cock into her mouth as he slapped each hanging tit. Her heavy thighs quivered with the punishing fucking, tears streamed down her red cheeks. Gisele, our waitress was in the cell across from the others. Lying on an old mattress she was sandwiched between two men, a cock on her anus and cunt, while a third filled her mouth. Pumping hard at all her holes the little waitress was coated with sweat her eyes wide with the effort of multiple penetrations. Her red nipples poked stiffly up from her almost flat chest. A few more hours and she would again be back waiting tables. As I drove home the temperature was down in the seventies under a clear sky. Most of the neighbors where asleep. My security light was the only one light on the street. A soft warm breeze blew in from the jungle. In the living room the phone light blinked, tomorrow would be soon enough to answer it.
Chapter 6 - Prisoner's File I thought of going to sleep but instead picked up the General's envelope he had given me on the ranch. I had plenty of time to sleep, in the morning I had a scheduled tour of the city with the District Commander but that was not till ten. So I pulled out a sealed folder marked HIGH SECURITY and started to read. FILE #4459 FEMALE PRISONER - KARMAL ENGLISH - SECURITY PRISONER Khym Prison Labor Lease Unit. SLAVE FOR SHORT/LONG TERM LEASE MATURE FEMALE - EXCEPTIONAL BREAST/NIPPLE SIZE SUITABLE FOR HARD PHYSICAL LABOR - SEXUAL SERVICE GENERAL ------- This 32-year-old female is available for short or long term lease. She is has been fully trained for hard labor under the most rigorous conditions of heat and cold. First entered the prison at the age of 24. She came to us from the punishment section of the prison system, a female serving for anti-government journalism. Although there was some question of her guilt she was given 1 year at hard labor. Her first escape attempt at three months earned her and extra 10 years, the second after 1 year ended in a sentence of life in prison (see below). Both were dealt with very severely. Under special arrangements we acquired her. Her initial training took place in Central Training (see below for a short description of the training facilities). It included heavy physical conditioning as well as full sexual training for brothel and large troop service. Strict and severe punishments were administered during training. After her initial training she was transferred to a high security prison. There she was used as forced labor outdoors. In addition she was sent to the special army barracks for up to two weeks at time for sexual service, (see below)(most females are only able to endure one week). However if you want a docile slave this one is not for you! She requires close supervision. Her fitness and intelligence make for a winning combination, well worth her premium price. It is not often one sees such a large breasted female, this muscular and toned. She has been trained totally without the support of bra, almost without any stretch marks! She is available for hard physical labor under extreme conditions of heat and cold as well as sexual slavery. REQUIRES CLOSE SUPERVISION! REQUIRES STRICT, SEVERE PUNISHMENTS TO REMAIN UNDER CONTROL! NOT docile but very intelligent. Learns quickly! A PREMIUM service slave for those that can control her. Special Note: she has made two escape attempts. One at three months of her term and another after a year. Both where dealt with severely. See documents EA135 and EA147 below for details. Age: 32 Education: college PHYSICAL CONDITION ------------------ Sex: female Race: Caucasian Height: 5'7" Weight: 155lbs Eyes: brown Hair: straight brown cut short Brands/Tattoos: none Scars: one thin line on underside of left breast, from a whipping administered during her initial interrogation. Figure: 44E,28,38 Features: round face, large eyes Mouth: full lips, able to take 2" ball gag fully between teeth, as well as penis gags and harness bits. Skin: olive, smooth, deeply tanned, no tan lines, no lasting welts. Although Greek ancestry, can pass for South American when tanned. Very exotic when portions of skin are left untanned. Labia: thick, protruding, inner lips visible, will open when legs spread, clitoris visible. Prominent pubic mound (shaved smooth). Cunt: able to handle 8" x 2 1/2" dildos, if lubricated Breasts: very large, set high on chest, narrow slightly at the top, filling out to hang full, firm and very heavy. More than ample for a regular harness. Multi-strap basket style discipline harness, cinched tight must be seen! Also, display nicely when wide straps used around base, however they do bounce painfully if she is worked or forced to run. They must be strapped down for running. Could be forced to lactate for additional fee. Nipples: exceptionally thick, half inch when stiff, dark brown color, pierced for rings, very sensitive. Thick enough to take large heavy gauge rings. Some nipple training has been done, she will stretch to three quarters of an inch. Aureole: large oval, two and a half inches, studded with little ridges and small bumps on edges. Not pierced. Dark brown. Belly: slight, cut back on food and increase labor as necessary Legs: long, slim, very strong, large muscular thighs. Butt: firm, ample, high pear shaped cheeks, anus visible when legs spread wide. Labia visible from back when legs spread. Anus: able to take 6"x2" anal plug. Hair: pubes shaved no body hair, head can be shaved at extra cost. PHYSICAL FITNESS ---------------- Fitness: very fit, well toned, nicely muscled back and arms, lower ribs visible when suspended. Belly almost flat. Has been trained for hard physical labor under extreme conditions. TRAINING -------- Condition: very good for a female her age, is run four times a week for ten miles, behind a jeep, breasts bound tightly to prevent injury. Always run naked. Labor: Outdoor, in heat- able to perform hard labor in 105 degree heat under full sun up to 18 hours per day, has been worked for 48 hours with no sleep. Can carry up to 90 lbs. on back, pull 250-LB cart. In cold- able to do hard labor in 45 degree weather up to 7 hours, nude. Carrying loads: able to carry 90lb backpack for 10 hours, needs special pack as straps cut into her large breasts. Female as been used in forced marches of 5 days duration, 12 hours per day with a 95 LB load on back (in heavy boots, long pants, bare to the waist, wrists chained to back of neck collar. Required a discipline whipping (breasts, 30 lashes) the first day, no problems after that. Indoor: has been worked up to 20 hours at heavy physical labor for 5 days, use of whip required to keep her on task. Sexual: All openings well trained. Highly orgasmic! (Especially responsive to pain) Not bi-sexual but will service other women when forced (she hates this!). Excellent oral abilities, will swallow all cum. Breasts large enough for her to suckle. She does not like to do this in the presence of others, nor does she like to have her labia spread. She does enjoy seeing other slaves disciplined. Must be forced to masturbate in front of others, trained to use dildos (vaginal, anal). Sexual Endurance: (over 18 hours) has been able to endure 86 viginal penetrations, 42 anal, and 78 oral. The oral required the application of discipline clamps, one on each side of nipples to keep her sucking with vigor. Has endured 2 weeks as sex slave in military camp. See guards report below. Enema: Able to take and hold two quarts, up to 6 hours if plugged, can be worked hard while holding, as a punishment. Longest, 16hrs, with two and one half quarts, plugged. Spirit: Difficult to control at times requires chains and aggressive discipline measures. Humiliation: Very humiliated when displayed in public, but does become wet when forced to bare her breasts or strip naked. DISCIPLINE (see below for common disciplines) ---------- Discipline: She has high tolerance for pain, requires strict discipline. Should be kept tightly chained at night. Masturbates nightly if not restrained. Has been kept nude, except for public transport. Restrain and dress, as Arab female for public transport, must be gagged. Whip: able to endured harsh breast and spread leg whippings. Very, very vocal under punishment, screams, begs and cries under whippings, will orgasm. Will howl under pain punishment. Nipples and aureoles very sensitive. Can endure the whip directly across bare nipples, but must be tightly restrained, or will thrash about violently. Use bit gag. Piercing (nipples): she has been nipple pierced, comes with studs inserted. Her nipples are very thick and one half inch long, they are able to take thick heavy rings. She is has been worked with 16 ounce weights in the fields. Piercing (clit) she is pierced at the base of her clit. Is able to take 5 ounces weights and keep working. Although she tends to cum with this type of stimulation. No labia piercing. Clamps: has worked in nipple clamps, with weights up to 5 ounces. Punishment needle clamps have been used. Clit and labia clamps have also been used. Can be worked with labia clamps secured to thin chain around waist keeping her open. Harness: Breast harness, with tack strips has been used for control during field labor as well as leather covered steel mouth bit. Confinement: up to 8 weeks in strict restrains with heavy whippings, when necessary. She has spent up to seven days in the 'hole' (see below). Solitary Confinement: up to five days, strictly chained. Being chained on her belly is difficult for her to tolerate due to her large breasts, in solitary she was always chained on her belly, with nipple and clitoral chains added. Up to 3 days in full leather hood, penis gagged. Will suck with hood on, under threat of punishment. Encasement: full rubber encasement including head for up to 5 days used for punishment, with insertion of large anal, vaginal, oral plugs. Enema: she has been suspended, plugged and whipped for up to eight hours on tip toe with enema held in by butt plug. Sweats profusely. Suspension: by wrists, up to 24 hours, inverted 10 hours. Humiliation: she is easy to humiliate, for example: public display, others present at punishments, when worked naked with other clothed slaves, also when clothed and forced to bare breasts or cunt. Sexual Skills ------------- She is exceptional at oral sex, must be forced to lick anal area. Trained in massage techniques. Responds very vigorously to hard vaginal penetration, an exceptionally responsive lover even when under punishment. Very vocal. But must be urged to take anal penetration, under threat of discipline. Social Skills ------------- She is quite beautiful when clothed and in makeup. If she is used at parties it must be in a secure area, such as a well-guarded estate, ankle chains suggested. The penalties for mistakes must be made clear to her. Under these condition she makes an excellent hostess, as well as providing late evening entertainment. She is has been trained as an exotic dancer, bartender, and waitress. Has been trained to masturbate when performing as dancer, but hates to do this. Work History ------------ She has worked in a mine (5 weeks, 10hr days) in harness pulling oar carts, nude. Also used on carts on several plantations (three months/16hr days) in shorts, breasts bare. Factory work included unloading cargo (3 weeks/10hr days) trucks, clothed in thong and sleeveless shirt and shoveling coal in the furnace room (5 weeks/16hr days). She was leased to a prison mill, hauling water buckets (6 weeks/10hr days). At a private club she danced (nude, masturbated on stage, and was whored (3 months/18 hr days). On a prison water pumping station the prisoner worked the manual pumps (2 months/12hr days) in shorts and halter-top. In the army barracks she provided sexual services (2 weeks total/24hr days) chained nude (see below). On a river barge worked in the engine room shoveling coal (5 weeks/12 hr days) nude in chains. Routine Disciplines ------------------- Urination at night while chained down on sleeping bench: 15 lashes (breasts) Bowl Movement at night: 10 lashes (breasts), butt plug for 2 days Failure to be wet in morning: 5 lashes (labia) dildo strapped in for 2 days Failure to have stiff nipples in morning: 5 lashes on nipples, nipple clamps for 1 day. Refusal to suck guard: ring gag one week, daily forced oral. Looking at guard: full hood at night for one week Taking back to guard: penis gag one week. Failure to meet labor quota: additional hours added, punishment whippings, double chains added, removal of all clothing. Training Camp ------------- She has received the finest training at our private camp, located in the jungles of Central America. Facilities include, a Spanish fort converted to a maximum-security prison. Cell blocks offer two hundred year old stone walled cells, fitted with heavy iron doors. They are very hot and humid. Prisoners sleep chained on the floor or on straw for good behavior. Some are equipped with wooden stocks for night restraint. A punishment unit on the lower level is used for discipline, as well as outdoor cages and walled in courtyards. There are also cells with isolation pits in the floors. The surrounding fields and forest are used for physical endurance training, under a very hot tropical sun. Some training at the oars is done on the river adjoining the main prison. ONLY the finest females are trained here, ages 19 to 55. All must pass a strict physical and training is very demanding. Females below and above the age limits are considered on an individual basis. Most training is done nude, with labia shaved, sometimes head also. A typical day will start with prisoners awakened a dawn, fed in a large cell, bowls on floor, wrists chained behind. Than chained in groups of five trotted to latrine, where they squat and relieve themselves in front of the guards. Followed by standing at strict attention in courtyard for inspection where field chains and harness are put on. Body cavity searches are often performed at this time. Worked, watered, fed in the fields, Water is given with prisoners standing, legs wide, hands behind necks, chests up and out, water drank from guards lade. After 10 to 15 hours work they stand at strict attention in courtyard for inspection, field chains and harness removed night chains, trotted to latrine and fed. Taken to their cells unless specialized training, sexual, endurance, physical or punishments are to be administered. Behavior is logged during the day and punishments often administered in the individual cells at night. Whippings are the most common form of discipline. Minor discipline is five to ten across the butt cheeks. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Document EA135 - Escape Attempt Prisoner #49448 - attempted to flee the work area. Transport Guard's report: We had transported ten female prisoners to a remote work site. It was 5:30 AM. Teams of five, chained at the ankle, were to be used for public road building. Since they had to work in public view all wore thigh length tunics made of burlap. The rectangular pieces of cloth had ties at the sides and a hole for the head. The guards disliked working prisoner's dressed like this as the tunics were never washed and many were so tattered that they exposed the female's breasts resulting in complains from the public. At that time the prison system used female trustees. These prisoners did the more mundane jobs of feeding and shackling the prisoners. They wore very low cut khaki shorts and sleeveless tops, coming to just below the tits, and boots. Most still had on ankle chains. It was one of these trustees that were responsible for shackling groups of five prisoners for roadwork duty. A twenty-foot chain was laid out on the ground, each prisoner would be unchained from the truck and re-chained to the work chain. This should have been done one at a time but this trustee unload all five females and had them stand without ankle chains outside the truck while she re-secured them to the work chain. At this time a wagon pulled by four prisoners pulled up beside the trunk. The wagon was being used to haul heavy loads of dirt for the road building project. Prisoner Karmal was new to the work, this was her first day, she had just been transferred to the prison after her trial for treason. She was a journalist, serving one year at hard labor for writing an anti-government article on the prison system. At 24 years old she had never been in prison, her radical views and general fitness level earned her a stiff sentence. The sentence was up for review in six months and could be extended as needed. She was very muscular, with huge high breasts, toned arms, and well developed thighs. Apparently she was shocked to see the wagon being pulled by four long-term prisoners. Each prisoner was chained with her arms behind her, secured to alternate sides of a bar projecting from the front of the large four-wheeled wagon. A guard rode on top to the wagon using his whip to direct the totally naked prisoners. Driven hard, the sweat and dirt coated females gasped for air as they stopped. Fresh whip welts covered their bare backs and thighs. Steel nipple clamps hung from two of the female's breasts. The oldest one, in her early sixties, almost dropped to her knees from exhaustion, but was corrected by the crack of the whip on her meaty left thigh. Everyone was looking at them when prisoner Karmal, freed of her ankle chains bolted suddenly into a nearby grove of trees. Her trustee was about to go after her but was stopped by a guard, thinking she was in league with prisoner Karmal. 'She won't get far' he said, calling on his radio. Guard on horseback: We received a call that a female prisoner had attempted to escape and got to the scene in just an hour. Four of us on horses went after her. We got a description: 24-year-old dark haired female, in prison tunic, wrists chained behind her back, heading west down a dry gully, no shoes. Sentenced to one year, served three months. May have been aided by a 46-year-old prison trustee. We followed her trail through the brush for two miles. She left a clear trail in the sandy soil, with pieces of her tunic left on the thorns of bushes here and there. There was evidence that she had fallen down in several places, and slid down a small hill. We spotted her struggling up the rocky side of the next hill. The bitch still had her hands cuffed behind her. The tunic was half torn off. Her massive tits flopping out. Soaked in sweat and dirt, her legs pumping to get up the hill, she was not about to give up when one of the guards lassoed her around the ankles and dragged her down the hill. At the bottom a guard jumped off his horse flipped her on her back, re-shacked her wrists up to the back of her neck chain, and secured ropes to each ankle handing them to mounted guards. They pulled her legs wide open as she continued to struggle and curse us. Her tunic was stripped off and three of us worked her over with our lunge whips. Screaming and howling the whips burned into her back, butt cheeks, and solid thighs. After ten minutes they crossed the ankle ropes rolling her over on her back. By this time she knew what was coming, screaming, 'NOOOoo not my tits please not my tits.' I had seen a lot of prisoners with big tits but this one was exceptional. Not only were they big but they stood out full and firm with saucer sized dark brown aureole. Two of the guards worked over her tits with their whips, aiming for the nipples while the third lashed her open cunt and thighs. She howled like a wild animal as stripe after stripe was laid down on her huge wet udders. Each lash was followed by a full-throated howl from the thrashing female. Sweat flew in all directs as we administered the first of her many punishments for attempting to escape. Karmal writhed in the dirt still cursing and screaming at us between cries of anguish. She must have known that her body and huge breasts earned her more punishment than was necessary for the situation. After another ten minutes we got off our horses and ordered her to her feet. She hesitated but struggled up after a few more lashes, gasping and sobbing. I was impressed with her ability to take punishment, reminding myself to recommend a long stay in the pain cells for her escape attempt. Forcing her to stand at attention with her legs wide, and chest up, one of the guards reached into his saddlebag. He got out a tit harness and double dildo strap. Tears streamed down her face falling on her bruised tits when she saw them but wisely said nothing. The harness was a set of three circular straps with four cross straps to a two-inch metal ring. He place one harness around each swollen tit, cinched the three straps tight enough for the small metal studs to dig into her tit meat. The flesh bulged out between the dark webbing. Each nipple was pulled though the rings. I was surprised how fast her thick nipples stiffed with just a few rubs. Prisoner Karmal howled again when the nipple clamps went on. She almost sank to her knees from the clamp needles piercing her nips. We all carried piercing clamps for just this type of situation. As guard held each arm the third ordered her to 'juice' rubbing her protruding clit. After a minute her face and neck blushed, it was easy to slip each dildo on the cunt strap into her wet opening. The long one went in her cunt the short thick one up her ass after each was lubricated in hot pussy juice. When the cunt strap was buckled to her waist strap and a rope tied to her neck chain it was time to run the prisoner back to the work site for transport to the punishment unit. In spite of her ordeal she did well, trotting behind one of the horses. Forced to keep up a steady pace by the neck rope, sweat streamed down her tanned body in rivers. Moaning with each painful flop of her harness encased tits she ran steadily, as the dildos churned in her filled holes. I rode behind watching the prisoner's firm high butt cheeks slide up and down around the anal plug. I thought to myself how her life would now change. She only had nine months to go in prison. But now all that would was in the past. With her radical views and her body she was in for years of naked labor. This one was made for slavery if any female was! Back at the trucks prisoner Karmal was allowed to drop to her knees next to the trustee who let her escape. Kneeling with her chained legs folded under her the, now naked trustee had been shackled with a six-inch wide steel collar around her neck. Arms behind her back, elbows down, her wrists passed though metal sleeves welded to the neck collar. Beads of sweat on her bare body attested to the pain of being in control shackles. A rubber hood full covered her head. The only opening her mouth held wide by a steel ring gag. Her hard-earned trustee status was now gone with her clothing. Whatever her sentence might have been it would likely be extended to life. At 46 this meant she was still young enough for both labor and the sex pens. She was sobbing. With Karmal also hooded I had both of them loaded into a truck, positioned on their knees, bodies bent forward and neck chains secured to a cross bar. Drops of sweat fell on the rough wood floor from the ends of the trustee's small firm tits, while Karmal's web harnessed mammaries hung almost to the floor. The nipple clamps just brushing the truck floor. Karmal was stoically silent but the trustee moaned in protest when a guard shoved an anal plug in her brown hole. She knew her fate was sealed. Roadwork had begun as we drove off. A chain gang of five prisoners using short handled shoved worked on their knees filling large sacks strapped to another gang of prisoners standing in front of them. When the 100-pound sacks filled the prisoner's struggle to a waiting wagon emptied them and went back for another load. They worked like this for sixteen hours a day, with only three five minute rest breaks. To get some small measure of relief from the oppressive heat many voluntarily removed their heavy tunics preferring to work naked. My next stop was the underground prison punishment unit.
Chapter 7 - Prisoner's Sexual Service I continued to read from the file, all the time wondering why the General had given this to me. The more I read the more a feeling of unease came over me. I thought I knew everything there was to know about the prison system but here was the file of a female describing a labor lease program I was not familiar with, was there more to this? I had wondered if prisoners might be used for more than labor. Was it possible that some were being sold out right, into private slavery. File #4435 Guard's Report - Karmal English Served: 5 years Security Level: high Background 1. Service in the army barracks: Select prisoners are sometimes leased to the Special Army Unit's barracks for sexual service. This unit is often in the field for anti-rebel operations for weeks at a time and in need of relaxation and release. Karmal was first transported to the jungle barracks for a three-day stay. However the commander asked that her stay be extended for an additional three days. The next time she stayed for a week and a half and on following visits for two weeks at a time. The prisoner was transported to the barracks in the back of an enclosed truck, a day's trip. She was one of the few inmates that would endure sexual service for long periods under these conditions. Her work day was twenty four hours on and eight off to sleep. The guards called it 'Raw Service' for the inmates were fucked raw, over and over again. Transcribed from an interview with a guard. It took a while to get to her cell. Down three passages and two flights of stairs to the discipline unit, one of the oldest parts of the prison. All the cells are hot, humid, and filthy. Their iron doors rusted from years of use. I pulled the bolts back and switched on the dim light. The cell smelled of urine, sweat, and female juices. She was on the rough wooden bench, chained out, legs at one end, wrists stretched to the other. Typical for nights in this unit. As a supposed rebel sympathizer she earned the chains extra tight. This bitch had been a prisoner for a while, and it showed! Tanned a deep brown, lean and toned, the first thing I noticed were her breasts, still huge and firm as only a young prisoner's can be. Being so large they flopped slightly to either side, tipped in thick brown nipples almost half an inch long, her big oval aureole dotted with little rough bumps and ridges. The slave's arms and shoulder muscles were well defined from twelve-hour days of grueling forced labor. Thick raised welts covered her tits. She had endured a heavy punishment whipping in the last few days. We called them 'bitch breakers'. Most fainted after twenty or thirty lashes across the bare tits. But this on was known to take up to sixty, before being dowsed with a bucket of cold water to revive her. These 'bitch breaker' sessions often went on for over twenty four hours with the prisoner hanging by her wrists in one of the punishment cells, howling, begging, and offering her body to the guards. I had seen very conservative females, school teachers, office workers, women who never swore, never dated, never dressed in revealing clothes offering themselves to the guard. They would scream out, 'Please fuck me! Fuck my cunt. Fuck all my holes.' Begging to be used to avoid the whips on their bare tits as they hung naked in chains, suffering under lash after lash in the deep underground cells. For most it was the first time in their lives they had been naked in front of strangers. The first time their recently shaved labia was opened for everyone to see. Many had never been masturbated to orgasm by a man's hand. They never dreamed they would be forced to cum over and over in front of others. Filled with blushing shame their bodies betraying them they would arch their backs, throw back their heads and cum with a shuddering violence heather to unknown, at the hands of their captors. Only to fall back wriggling under new set of lashes. The guards knew how to spread a whipping over long hours, working slowly letting their gasping wards recover after a few hard lashes, then in half an hour beginning again. Making a prisoner wait on tiptoe for half a day before administering a few furtive strokes to the butt cheeks, then leaving for another few hours before returning to administer a hail of hard blows across tender nipple flesh. Then again leaving a virginal female to sob in anticipation while her tits burned and throbbed in pain. She would never be sure when the cell door opened where the lash would land and for how long. All she knew for sure was that escape, self control, and dignity was a thing of the past. The punishment cells meant a screaming naked hell for these female prisoners. The most intimate areas of her body where now on full display. At the beach these women would never think of wearing something so revealing as a bikini, much less exposing their chests. They presented themselves at trial in long dresses or business suits, even though filthy after weeks of cell time, trying desperately to maintain their dignity. But now there was no way to hide, not a scrap of clothing was allowed in these cells. To make matters worse all body hair was removed, some even had shaved heads, depending on the judge's orders. Rings and studs were inserted painfully into the most tender of nipple and clit flesh. Nothing like a simple, accepted ear piecing. A former librarian may now have three-inch stainless steel rings behind each nipple deep in her aureole. A modest school teach now shamed with labia rings held open with a thin chain around her back giving a full view of her wet clit and open vagina, would beg for cock. A chain from her clit ring to her nipple studs may constantly stimulate a naked secretary. After a few weeks they would become used to their nakedness, then it was time to expose them to the general prison population, forcing them to work in the fields, mines, and factories, as naked sweating laborers. And of course on naked display for visitors. Husbands, bosses, lovers, friends, fellow workers, would be shocked at first, then fascinated. Karmal was one of these females. And now she would have a new experience that of sexual slavery. She lay on her iron cot, her rib cage clearly visible from the strain of being stretched tight on the bench. A little pool of sweat rested in her belly button, moving with each slow breath. Her pubic mound was high and bare. Each shaved labium appeared wet with more than sweat. She was moaning softly in some erotic dream, large muscular thighs quivering now and then. Karmal's mouth was half-open as her huge breasts rose and fell with deepening gasps. Her eyes opened suddenly as I give her left tit a hard slap. Even with her brown hair cropped short she was a beauty. No wonder that Raul was training her hard. I took out a leather covered ring gag from my canvas bag and motioned for the slave to open her mouth. She knew better than refuse. But as I strapped it in, she peed herself with a little hot gush. It ran onto her tights and pooled on the metal bench under her. 'That will cost you five lashes', I said, 'and in your case it's going to be across those big tits of yours'. Slaves were trained to hold their toilet needs until morning, any mistakes were punished. In this unit it was by the whip. Five across the breasts for peeing, and ten for a bowel movement at night, with the addition of a large anal plug for one week. Karmal did not speak but her big brown eyes begged as my first lash caught her left tit just bellow the nipple. She bucked and screamed as the strap seared into her wet tit. The second landed on the top of the right breast, evoking a deep guttural moan from her mouth, now held open but the ring gag. A third bounced the same tit from the underside. She arched her back, thrusting chest up, and than fell back on the bench. Beads of sweat formed on her chest as the fourth punished her left nipple, leaving a red streak. Sweat flew off the fifth and final one on the other nipple. I gave her an extra hard one across the belly, raising a thick welt. Karmal lay gasping as I got out her transport chains. But being alone with her I was in no hurry. Sitting down I asked, 'where you having a sex dream?' She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, squeezing a tear out. I traced my hand down the middle of her chest, past still stiff nipples, to her welted belly. Her hips moved as my fingers reached on thick labia. 'Open them', I said, quickly finding her wet clit and circled it. Karmal moaned. 'Like that?' I said. She moaned louder. I stopped. Getting her up I shackled a chain hobble to her ankles, her wrists then behind her, a waist chain and neck one was also added. She was ready for transport except of a short pole between her neck chain and wrist shackles. This forced her arms to extend straight down behind her, to this snapped a chain from wrists to each ankle and thin leather strap, between her legs from the front of her waist chain to the back. I cinched it tight, barring it between her lips. She walked stiffly at first, from her night on the bench and the added whip discipline, but soon she was moving quickly with little hobbled steps as I lead her by a neck leash down the passage, past closed rusting iron doors. Glancing at each door she knew instinctively that a female prisoner was chained behind each one in nude punishment. I was impressed with the prisoner, she had taken the whip quite well and was keeping on her feet. Though I had seen many such females, this one carried herself well, a strong young women, dark and very busty. Her tits swayed heavily with each step. Little did she know where she would be going. When we got to the upper level courtyard, I made her stand at attention in the hot sun. It would be an hour or more before we left. Closing the outer door on the little walled in area, I left her wrists shackled to a short post in the center, sweat running down her sides, as she stood, legs wide, ankle chain taught, chest up and out. Her lower ribs outlined. I knew she would hold that position till I got back. The punishment for breaking position was three days of agony chained standing in the sun, whipped daily. Two hours later I returned. Opening the view panel in the door I could see she was still at attention, only her head slightly lower gave away any hint of fatigue. Sweat ran in streams down her bare skin. Leading her out, I unshackled her ankles and held her neck leash as I sat in the back of a jeep. The driver started off slowly, Karmal walking behind, with a look of wild eyed distress. It was five miles to the truck that would transport her to the army garrison. At first her breasts only swayed back and forth as we drove slowly. But after the first mile I ordered the driver to speed up. Karmal begin to trot, soon she was trotting quickly, her chest heaving, tits flopping. I knew the stony road was hard on her bare feet. As the pace quickened her legs became plastered with dust, which mixed with sweat and streamed down her bare thighs. We slowed after a mile to let her rest. The last two miles she struggled to keep the pace, tits flopping hard, each bouncing high up and slamming down hard on her chest as the slave trotted in the hot sun. Sweat flew off the big udders in every direction. Finally we reached the truck, and she dropped to the ground gasping for breath in the dirt. Only a year before she had been an up and coming journalist with a privileged life style, but now just another naked chain female gasping in the dirt. The truck was an old one, used for transporting prisoners. The back, totally enclosed, heated up quickly with the doors closed, but it was secure. Karmal was too exhausted to protest, and knew better, when another guard and I hauled her up and made her kneel on the floor in the back of the truck. We chained each ankle a few feet apart to floor rings, and her wrists up and out to the side, so she was on her knees, butt off the floor, leaning forward. Her torso almost horizontal, allowing the slave's huge breasts to sway free beneath her still dripping with sweat from the run. I slipped a full leather hood on her, leaving the ring gag in. It was at that point she became overcome with panic and started to struggle. But it was no use, the heavy chains kept her from injury and escape. I bolted the doors, leaving her, to the bumpy ride, and start off on the fourteen-hour trip to the army garrison. In back the prisoner, endured the trip naked in shackles, on her knees, head encased in a leather hood awash with sweat, tits flopping and slapping each other with every bump. This was just the type of treatment she has hoped to expose as a journalist. I stopped for water after four hours and open the back to check on my prisoner. Opening the doors I could see her ample butt cheeks and thick muscular thighs. Between her legs hung the glistening mound of her shaved pubes. Karmal's massive breasts hung like the brown udders of a milk-swollen cow, tipped in thick dark nipples. A few specks of yellowish fluid dotted each nipple. They had just started to induce lactation by introducing hormones in her food. This was unknown to her, but she was already showing signs of tit engorgement. In a few months she would be receiving twice daily injections directly deep into each nipple. I could just image her with tits two or three times their current size, engorged with milk. Streaked with a layer of dust and sweat, head down, she moaned softly through her ring ball gag. The struggling renewed at the sound of me entering the back. I had been ordered to discipline her at the first sign of resistance, so I fished out a set of steel discipline clamps from the canvas bag. She howled when I snapped them in her nipples, the clamp needle piercing though tender nipple flesh, and added eight-ounce weights to each. The punishment clamps pulled her nipples in to long dark cone, just brushing the floor. I closed the doors with her moaning loudly. It would be another four hours till the next stop. In the air-conditioned cab I sipped on an iced beer and watched the endless jungle glide by. At the second stop, I removed her ball gag, and waited for her jaw to relax. She gratefully gulped down the canteen of water when it touched her lips. 'May I have permission to speak, Sir', she requested in a low voice. 'Yes', I respond. 'Where am I being taken, Sir' 'Your going to an army garrison where you will provide full sexual service the troops, and you will service them with enthusiasm! She was silent for a moment than began to scream, 'NOooooo please nooo don't whore me! Noooo. I quickly pressed the ball gag into her pleading mouth. She continued in a muffled babble. I had been ordered to give her a hard beating during the trip so the troops would see the treatment of a rebel sympathizer. This was a good a time as any. After re-chaining her wrists to a length of chain from the truck ceiling, I ran a short chain across the back of her knees and re-shackled her ankles to the ceiling chain. In this position she had to balance on her knees, arms overhead, ankles brought up behind. I knew from the way she held her head that the slave was sobbing in her leather hood, but orders were orders. Taking a heavy leather strap out, I could see she was straining with every muscle to take the weight off her knees. Sweat ran in little streams from her bare armpits down her sides. The female's huge breasts thrust up and out, the dark brown aureole all puckered with little bumps and ridges. 'CRACK' I brought the strap down hard on the tops of her breasts. For a moment she was stunned, than let out a yelp, audible even with her gag. The next one caught her left nipple. Again she yelped and bucked wildly. The next three found her thighs and belly as Karmal wined into her gag. Large beads of sweat covered her hot skin, dripping onto the floor, then she peed. As my lashes found the flesh at the ends of her tits, the prisoner's yelps turned into long howls. The heat in the truck was oppressive so I took a break for another beer in the cab. When I return Karmal had calmed down a bit, her breathing now deep and regular. Thick red welts had formed on her breasts and thighs. She held very still. 'Time for more', I said, unshackling her wrists from the ceiling and back to the floor. The ceiling chain had a pulley, so I was able to suspend her head down, legs wide, with wrists also chained wide to the floor. The young bitch's thick brown labia where wide open. I pulled them open a little more so her clit was in full view. It was wet and red. She was very leggy, with not an once of fat on her thighs, all solid muscle. 'CRACK' again came my strap on her left inner thigh raising and angry red welt. 'EEeeeiiii' she howled into the gag, bucking wildly, her hanging udders bouncing. The next two burned into her wet labia, leaving red strips down her belly. Gasping and howling she took the next five in her inner thighs and labia. I could tell from experience, she was growing weak from the whip and heat. Finishing with two more on the bottoms of her breasts I re-chained her as before, on her knees. It was still hours to the prison. I stopped only once to give her a drink. She took the water, her head hanging as I closed the doors. The slave had taken her whipping well, she was strong. There were far hard whippings in store for her! We arrived at the walled garrison late in the afternoon. Unchaining the prisoner, I let her rest for a moment in the cooler air, before putting the arm pole and transport chains on. She soon revived, standing, the pole from neck chain to wrist forcing her stiffly upright. The truck was parked in a guarded, walled in area of the garrison. One of the military police greeted me, as I was removing Karmal's leather hood. Her short hair was matted with sweat, face flushed, eyes red, but she was wide eyed, searching for some assurance that another beating was not to follow. I reached into my pocket, took out to large thick stainless steel hoops. Quickly replacing her nipple clamps with these so I could clip on a thin chain leash. When we were ready, I lead Karmal by her nipple leash as the officer guided us across the parade grounds. Karmal flushed with shame as passing solders looked at her. I could hear their comments, 'look at the tits on the new one', 'man she is huge', 'about time we had a new cunt!', 'boy are be going to work that cow hard'. We reached the barracks area, five long low buildings. In the center was a small tin building, Karmal new home. The troops called it the cunt shack. Opening the door, the smell of cum was thick and heavy. Inside were benches on each wall and one in the center with shackles in each corner post. The officer and I hoisted Karmal onto the center bench and shackled her wrists to the upper corners with her legs brought by her ankles to short chains to her wrists, a belly chain held her down. Her pussy was just over the edge of the bench. She was now wide open for use. All one had to do was walk up to the bench to use either her anus or gaping pussy. The same for her mouth, as her head hung over the edge of the bench. I replaced her ball gag with a ring one. She would now have to take whatever was shoved in her mouth. 'Noooo, pleassee' she grunted through the ring gag. 'CRACK' I brought my hand strap down on her left tit. 'You will be silent whore'. She whimpered, turning her head away. The officer said she would be fed and exercised daily. Given water every two hours. They expected her to be there three days, available twenty-four hours a day, in the sex shack. She was an unlimited usage prisoner. Every prisoner under the age of thirty was when sent to the garrison. And Raul rarely sent anyone older. Though at times an exceptional prisoner might find her way to garrison duty. 'Really nice one this time, rack on this cunt. The men will like slapping those around.' the officer said, 'Raul certainly knows how to pick them'. Give me a little while with her and I will meet you at the officer club. As soon as I closed the door I could hear the sound of flesh being slapped. Walking over to the officers club, I would be spending the next three days as a guest of the army, as would Karmal, working on her back!. Chained on her back, she had a few hours to wait. They started visiting the sex shack late that evening, young horny men still dirty from a day in the field. Karmal spent the night, grunting and moaning as cock after cock was pumped into her wet vagina, and ass. Her shaved pubes dripped with fresh cum, as did her mouth. She knew she was expected to swallow all, but there was just too much. It ran down her cheeks with her tears. By morning she lay exhausted, filthy and very sore. Her pussy rubbed raw, her breasts flopped to either side, bruised from countless rough hands. She had taken 47 men mostly cunt fucks. At ten she was unchained, fed, watered and taken to the parade ground. There, her hands roped in front of her to the back of a jeep she was made to trot, breasts flopping, for three miles on the track. To her humiliation, passing soldiers jeered and laughed. Finally, streaming with sweat, chained back on the bench she fell into an exhausted sleep, till late in the day when her ordeal started all over again. This was to be her routine for the next four days, as one extra day was added. The second night I watched from the one way mirror in the next room. Karmal was sucking hard on one soldier's thick cock as another was pumping her flowing cunt. She met ever stroke with an energetic pelvic thrust, staining in her chains, hands tightly griped around her wrist chains, legs jerking against the ankle ones. Four other men, shirts off, stroking their erect cocks, stood around watching her writhe on the fucking bench, huge tits shacking, nips stiff, sweat running down her brown torso. As a soldier filled her mouth with hot cum she gulped it down and kept on sucking, till he was limp. When he was finished another took his place, all night long. Karmal serviced 38 men that night in all her holes. The third day I had them let her sleep for eight hours before running her on the track. After her run she was almost too exhausted to walk so I let her rest in the sex shack. For this she was not chained on the bench, but free except for wrists chained behind her and a short ankle hobble. A few hours later I unbolted the door and found her asleep on the cum sticky floor. The room smelled of sweat, cum and pussy juices. I got her up on her knees and she started to beg, 'Please Sir, no more! Don't let them have me anymore.' Then she noticed my discipline strap. It had small shiny studs set in the heavy leather. 'What are you here for bitch?' I demanded. Looking at the strap, 'To please the men, Sir', she said softly. 'Do you need a taste of this?' I said holding the strap up. 'Oh NO! Sir, No, I will go my best, Sir' she pleaded, 'don't whip me'. What are you bitch? 'I am a fuck slave SIR! My job is to work and please men. My cunt and ass are for their cocks, my tits are big to please them! I am kept naked so they can see how a woman works for men. ' A stream of sweat ran down her neck. I knew she was afraid of the strap, she had seen other prisoners howling under it, for hours, in the punishment unit. Karmal looked up at me, with her big brown eyes wide, tears welling up, chest thrust out, and huge udders hanging slightly down. She knew what to do, slowly climbing up on the fucking bench. She moaned but said nothing as I cinch a two inch tit strap around the base of each swollen udder forcing it to bulge even larger, her brown nipple already stiff. By morning 36 men had been serviced, mostly anal. After an exhausted sleep, followed by food and water, the prisoner was run on the track for two miles, in the hot sun. By ten that night she was again chained on the bench, waiting for another long night. A unit had just arrived from jungle duty. The stopped by the shack after securing their packs. For most of the night she had a cock in her cunt or ass and one in her mouth, sucking, bucking, and moaning as trooper after trooper pumped her full of hot cum. Karmal was used 29 times that night. Karmal was dazed when I re-chained her in the truck, the next morning, for the trip back to prison. Four days as a sex slave had taken its toil. She had taken one more day than normal in the barracks, servicing over 100 troops. Unknown to her, the commander wanted her back the next month for a five day stay, to service a unit due back from three weeks field training, 160 men. There was even some talk about taking her out in the field for service. They would have her haul a one hundred-pound load of supplies out to the troops, a twenty-hour trip and then spend the rest of the time servicing them. After five days she would again haul a heavy load back. Prisoners used a pack animals would have a wooden yoke strapped across their shoulders, arms chained out to the yoke ends, and the load in sacks hung from the ends of the yoke. Toiling up the steep jungle trails in the over hundred-degree heat for hours and hours was grueling work. Female porters were lucky to have a loin cloth for modestly. The guard's ever present whip on their bare backs and thighs kept them moving at a relentless pace. I let her be, for the trip back. She was exhausted and very sore, besides her raw ass and pussy, the men had slapped her tits around. I had orders that the prisoner could be chained on her back for the trip back. They wanted her in shape for work the next day. So I shackled her spread-eagled on the floor of the truck. She hardly moaned when I put the leather hood on her and the ball gag in. We made two stops one for fuel, the other for water. She did not wake up for the first stop so I let her sleep. Five hours later on the second, I gave her some water. She was a sight, cum still dripped from her pussy, guess she had taken a lot! I took the hood off the bitch and with a quick pop had the penis gag out of her mouth. I had a punishment strap in my hand, the heavy studded one I use for tit punishment, and she knew I would use it. After a few big gulps I helped myself to a little relief and had her suck me off. She started with tongue washing my thighs, then licking the area just back of my balls. Then more suckling and licking of my balls, one at a time. Finally she stroked the under side of am hardening cock with her mouth half closed, mouthing the tip each time. After ten minutes of hard sucking, I put a full load of cum down her throat. The bitch did a good job, gulping it all down and cleaning me with her hot tongue. We arrived at the prison just after 22:00, two guards took her down to the cells. They had to half carry her, one on each arm. I followed them down to her cell. As we rounded a corner in the lower passages we had to stop to let a guard by with his prisoner. Was pulling hard on the neck chain of a new prisoner. I could tell she was new, her body stark white, un-tanned. She looked to be a university student in her early twenties, slim, athletic, with small tits and short black hair. She struggled and pulled against her neck chain with every step. Considering that kind of resistance I would see why she was being taken to the punishment unit. The look on her face was one of resistance, but I could see she was also humiliated at being totally naked. When she slipped and fell on the wet floor Karmal's guards continued on. I held back while the new prisoners guard jerked his charge roughly to her feet. 'This one has given us some trouble.' He said. 'What's her story? I asked. ' Oh they got three of these bitches as the University in the act of handing over money to a known rebel operative. The other two are in military custody. This one tried to get away twice so they sent her here. We just got her stripped down and chained for the punishment unit. The orders are to keep her isolated. Something to do with a new rebel underground cell in the city. That's all they told me.' As I left him the sound of the new prisoner screaming echoed down the low passage. Apparently the guard had started using his electric prod to keep her moving. When I got to Karmal' cell she was already chained down on her cot. The guards had gone. The pungent smell of her sweat and cum caked body filled the air. I leaned over her stroking a bruised tit. 'You did well bitch, they want you back in a few weeks for a longer stay', I told her. She smiled softly, letting out a little moan and raising her hips. I ran my hand down her wet belly to her clit. She came in heavy waves a few minutes after I started masturbating her. It was midnight when I left the cell block, to the sound of the whip biting into bare female flesh. The new prisoner, hung upside down, was screaming. The next day Karmal was back to work for another 12-hour day in the fields. Guard's Report End. I put the report down and tried to get some sleep. Tomorrow was a tour of the city security areas.
Chapter 8. The Pauline Suffers A soft morning breeze off the ocean rustled the drapes as I awoke. It was still early, plenty of time before the District Commander would be picking me up. I punched the code numbers into the TV remote for the interrogation cells beneath the Old City Court House. The prisoner I was looking for was still in her cell. The caption at the bottom of the screen read, 'Cell #432, Pauline Gomez, age 48'. Apparently the trial of the noted university professor would not be today. Perhaps she needed another few days of interrogation. She was still naked, but instead of hanging by her wrists she was bent forward with her head and wrists locked in a set of stocks. Standing in front of her a big male guard slowly unsnapping the crotch of his leather pants. With one muscular arm he slapped Pauline across her face ordering her to open her mouth then grabbed her short hair and shoved his thick cock into her gaping mouth. He drove it in an out with a sudden violence. She grunted with each stroke. Soon he was fully hard. His dark cock was massive, forcing her mouth to the limit as she gulped for air. Her eyes bulged out as tears ran down her cheeks. He pumped her face for a full five minutes with an occasional slap of the prison's heavy pendulous breasts. The former professor grunted like an animal with each stroke. Finally he walked in back of her, rubbing and squeezing her ample buttock and fingering her fat hairless labia. Slowly he begin to move his swollen cock between her pussy lips then plunged it in with a hard thrust that lifted her off the floor. She let out a howl of surprise and agony. I watched fascinated while he pumped her, alternating between ass and cunt. Large beads of sweat burst forth on her bare skin, forming little streams down her legs and sides. He pounded her again and again, lifting her feet off the floor as he grasped her meaty thighs in his big hands, occasionally giving her a hard tit slap, spraying sweat in all directions from her dripping tits. His hand slaps imprinting on her big thighs. Each tit slap elicited a loud yelp. Pauline clinched her fists in the stocks, hopelessly trying to grip something as the guard punished her with his cock. In cases like her the cock and the whip made for powerful interrogation tools. Causing no real injury many hard core rebels soon submitted to the perverse humiliation. The lash welts on Pauline's back seemed more numerous then the day before, she must have endured another whipping during the night. Thick raised welts covered her from neck to mid thigh. More welts crossed her big breasts, many on her raw stiff nipples. After a long time of plunging his thick cock alternately into her ass and cunt he slowed down and leaning forward begin to rub her clit with one hand and her left tit with the other. Pauline went from grunting to moaning lowly as she came with a body shuddering wave. A look of deep humiliation on her face betrayed her shame and pleasure. But it was not over she came five more times in the next twenty minutes. Finally the guard moved in front of her, sticking his cock on her mouth and quickly ejaculated a mouth-filling load of his hot cum. To my surprise she eagerly swallowed as much as she could between gasps for breath, finishing him with a tongue wash of cock, balls and thigh. He left the exhausted professor chained on her knees, arms behind her neck, a chain running up to the cell ceiling. Her bare bruised chest still heaving. Pauline's nipples poked out of her sex blushed tits into sharp points. It was only then I noticed a figure standing in the dark corner of the cell, it was her supervisor from the university Dr. Mustof. After the guard left he walked over to her, lifting her chin with one hand. She looked up at him through sweat and tear stained eyes. Softly he said, 'I warned you about your radical teachings. You should have listened. All I wanted was for you to be my whore. But no you had or little circle of female students to play with. Don't worry the Judge is going to give me complete control of your activities in prison. I will see that you're well taken care of there. You will soon learn that this is nothing compared to what I have planned for you! Your days of being an arrogant university professor are over, in a few days you go to trial. It will be the last day of you wear clothing. All that time you spent working out in the gym is now going to pay off, I am going to see that you are worked like an animal, naked in chains. I will see that you're taught what it means to be a bitch.' With that he slapped her right tit and left. She let out a sob, her head hanging down, seeming to study her exposed bruised tits. At the sound of my door chime I switched the monitor to a camera at the outer gate. The District Commander, Juan Reios was waiting for me to buzz him in. We drove north along the coast road out of the city. The road snaked along the cliffs over looking the ocean. Small sandy beaches dotted the coast, some accessible by steep jeep trails others only by walking in from the beach. Coming to an outcropping on the cliff Juan parked the truck beside the remains of an old lighthouse. Pointing to a small stone block building he said, 'Follow me I want to show you a few things'. We walked up a short steep trail. He unlocked and ancient door and we went in side. There was nothing in the building. Giving me a pair of powerful binoculars he had me look out the window to the beach below. 'Take a look at each of those sandy inlets.' As I focused I could see couples and single women sun bathing in the secluded coves. Some wore bikinis other just thongs but most were nude. They're brown bodies glistening with oil. Juan spoke quietly, as he used his own binoculars. 'As you know it's illegal to be naked in public, but they come here for a more then just a tan. It's a place for them to meet their lesbian lovers and for them to meet slavers. More than a few of these women you see are seeking a life under slavery. Some are former prison inmates clinging to a life of forced submission, for others it's just a strong need. Of course it's a great risk but they keep coming back here. See that black truck with the enclosed back driving slowly down the beach, that's a slaver looking over the new crop. He may be a plantation owner looking for new labor or someone in the underground business of supplying female slaves for private buyers. The signal is for the female to wear a small chain around her neck indicating he is interested. It's all very discrete. If a woman chooses to go with him, she must convince him that no one will be looking for her. So they will meet here several times over the course of a few weeks to work out a deal. Once he agrees she will sell all her possessions and meet him for the final time. The moment she gets in the back of his truck she enters her new life. At first a lot of them come out of curiosity just for the thrill, hoping no one will see them. They buy the smallest bikinis, oil themselves up and wait. One or two days a week of 'display' can stretch into weeks of waiting. Most days they are lucky to see a slaver truck even once. Soon they figure they have to do something more to attract a slaver, so they go topless, then nude in spite of their fear and shame. Like that one half-hidden among the rocks. She is a clerk in one of the major stores down town. Her file says she is 26, Jana Sanor, few friends, comes here every Friday on her day off, average looking, but with a lean thin body. She has been doing this for five months, now she immediately strips bare, oils herself up and lays in the sand without a towel, her arms over her head and legs open enough to see her shaved pubes. Last week a slaver stopped to talk with her. This week she is back with a chain necklace around her neck. Most likely he is testing her cooperation. Once of the favored tests is to have them go to an area of the city known for it's street whores. There they must sell themselves for a few nights to prove they are serious about being enslaved. Moving the binoculars around I spotted two women, one appearing to be in her twenties the other much older. The young one, thin and lanky, was oiling up the large breasts of her older partner. She poured generous circles of sun tan oil on her friends heavy tits and rubbed it in using both hands to bring the tanned flesh into meaty cones. 'Who are they.' I asked Jaun. 'They are the reason we are here. The older one is Carlita Perz, head mistress of the Buchard Academy, a reform school for teens. It's a semi-prison like institution for youth accused of minor crimes, or ones with a history of trouble making. Her companion is Amanda Collins her assistant. Ms. Collins is in charge of discipline at the school and physical conditioning. She is known for disciplining female students by having them totally nude in class. At times the whole class will be nude for physical training. Practice sessions for team sports are often done naked, with male students being allowed to watch. At times nude female students are placed in the male classes. Teams who loose games against other schools receive harsh discipline, with long hours of mandatory naked training for up to six months. They also have a system of punishment units in the sub level of the school. Some students spend a few hours there for correction, others, all females, are there for the much longer. Of course this type of relationship between Carlita and Amanda, where it found out would have very serious consequences. What the two don't know is that the minister of the school Mr. Gregort has found them out and that's how we know. It is also assumed that the two are rebel sympathizers. They are to picked up soon for interrogation.' As we watched Amanda begin to suckle her partner's big dark nipples till they formed into stiff points, then she moved on top of her turned around so they could each lick each other's cunts. Carlita big breasts compressed into high mounds between Amanda's muscular thighs, as she threw her legs wide open giving Amanda full access to her open pussy. The two wriggled in the sand for the next twenty minutes, changing position from time to time, coming every so often till they lay oiled, sandy, and sweaty in the hot sun. 'Their file says, Carlita is 52, been at the school for sixteen years, is very strict, feared by both the staff and the students. She bullies and belittles her senior students and is generally disliked and hated by most of them who would be delighted to see her taken down a few pegs. The local dignitaries hold her in some esteem for her strict methods. Some of these officials have free access to the discipline unit hidden beneath the school. They come at night to indulge their perverse habits. She has sent not only students, but teachers to the discipline cells, there is a rumor that one teacher, a Lilian Manor, has been down there for three years, though officially she has resigned and gone on to another job. Her partner, Amanda is 28, worked there for eleven years teaches physical conditioning, she does the day to day administration and daily discipline though at night she often returns to the school with Carlita and they disappear into the locked areas of the discipline unit in the basement. You are welcome to accompany on a raid.' Something caught my eye. A truck had stopped two coves up from our position. In the sand lay a very attractive, deeply tanned woman in her thirties, with blond hair and a firm toned body. She had a small chain around her neck indicating slaver contact. As the driver of the truck got out she came to her knees placed her hands at the back of her neck and thrust her chest up and out. He walked around her several times, flicking a thin riding crop in one hand. She responded with large heaves of her chest try to show off her small hard tits. He taped her left thigh. Quickly she widened her stance, raising her butt off the sand. Again he did it and once more she moved her thighs even wider. This time her shaved pubes parted slightly exposing a shiny clitoris from under it little hood, a silver clit ring sparkled in the bright sun. He spoke to her, where upon she moved one hand to her clit and being to rub it's wet nub. He continued circling her moving his crop over her dark hot sweat dotted skin. She kept her eyes down. He nodded said something then got in his truck and left. She continued masturbating. 'That one is very interesting, a secretary from the Central Court, Monica Morris, 32. We don't know yet if she is here on her own or working for someone with the government. Either way we will have soon know. The slaver is one of our agents. If they reach an agreement she will be taken to a special compound near here for interrogation.' Said the Commander. 'But now I have to get back to the city.'
Life at hard labor The next morning I went to the Central Court House to attend the trial of Professor Pauline Gomez. The heat was particularly oppressive, so I parked in the underground garage reserved for prisoner transport. By ten it was already 102 degrees. Gomez was scheduled for eleven in Judge Varz's court on the third floor. He was known for handing down stiff sentences, especial in cases involving female rebel activities. To these sentences he also added specific guidelines for their incarceration. In another court a rebel might receive 10 years with half spent doing community work, but he dictated the harshest sentences of maximum length. Most females accused of rebel connections were assigned to his court. Even a small crime like associating with suspected rebels would earn a woman ten years in prison. Ninety-five percent of those on trial for rebel related activity were found guilty; of those more then half got life sentences. Most of those went to either hard labor camps or after a convenient loss of paper work ended up being 'sold' to private individuals. A slave trade was never mentioned, the term was 'long lease work assignment', know as LLWA. On my way I looked in on the prisoner holding area just off the main courtroom. It was a small narrow room, were prisoners waited for their trials. A dirty frosted window at the end let in some light via it's set of thick bars. From rings bolted along two walls hung neck shackles, large bands of steel on short chains. Half dozen frightened prisoners waited there for their trials to begin, each stood, tightly secured by the neck shackles many struggling on tiptoe, their wrists cuffed at their backs. Most wore the dirty white prison uniform; rough sleeveless burlap with collar to hem buttons, coming to just below the knee. At the far end the guard was tending to a well-dressed female. Looking to be in her late forties she stood stiffly in high heels, blouse and knee length blue skirt. Sweat stained the armpits of her pale blue blouse her moist oval face an expression of humiliation and apprehension as her wide eyes darted from prisoner to prisoner. The guard tested her wrist shackles to make sure they were tight behind her, and then her neck shackle, shortening it by one link so it bit into her neck forcing her up on her toes. She winced. He then slowly started to unbutton her blouse, one by one, till it was open to the waist. 'Noooo nooooo, please nooooo', she moaned softly, then froze as he pulled her blouse fully open and reached behind her, unsnapping her bra. In an instant a red blush came over her face, as her eyes filled with tears of shame. With a small pocketknife he quickly cut her bra straps letting it fall to the floor. She gasped as her large loose breasts, now shamelessly exposed flopped on her chest. Several engorged veins throbbed just under the skin of her pale tits. Quickly she learned that struggling only tightened her neck shackle. Her chest heaved up and down with heavy breaths of anxiety. The guard laughed, having seen this many times before, and started to rub her thick pink nipples. Soon they stood erect, surrounded by equally excited rose aureole. He leaned close saying, 'any trouble bitch and your skirt comes off, or would you prefer I that way, I bet you like showing off your cunt to the men at your office. Are you the type that sucks off the boss in the back room to get promoted?' The guard moved to the next prisoner, a young girl with short matted black hair, dressed on the prison uniform. It was open completely down the front; open enough to see that her body was streaked with dirt, sweat, and wide whip welts on her small brown tits. Two others next to her were the same way. In spite of the choking neck shackles they quietly twisted back and forth struggling to release their arms from a double set of straps that bound their wrists and elbows together behind their backs. The guard saw this, walking over to the third one, a slim blond, and pulled her prison uniform off her shoulders down to her bound wrists. Now naked she stopped struggling. Her body was covered with thin raised welts, from a recent caning. Two large rings hung from her little labia. The slit of her hairless pussy was a raw red. They were from the youth prison. Next to her was Professor Pauline Gomez. The professor was clothed in a short version of the prison uniform. It came to mid thigh, exposing her firm full thighs. Though buttoned the uniform was a size too small. The openings between the buttons revealed that she was naked underneath. Her face was flushed with sweat, but she stood proudly, with her chest high, looking straightforward. This was to be her day in court. The last one in line was a tall black female, her neck shackle loose enough to allow her to hang her shaved head. Looking to be in her late twenties she seemed relaxed in a double set of chains. Thickly muscled with no sign of fat, I could tell that she was a long time prisoner. I remembered a notice about a black female with just a few months left of a five-year sentence that had tried to escape. She had been assigned to mine work, one of the hardest types of labor and the most brutal, having gotten away, when her prison transport van collided with a truck. She made it only a short distance before they caught her. It would be interesting to see what sentence the judge pronounced. I expected it would be severe, life in a punishment unit. Down the hall the courtroom was already filled with spectators, many of them university students. I was lucky to get a seat. Promptly at eleven the Judge entered the room, everyone stood till he was seated behind a high-carved wood podium. As he ordered the guard to bring in the prisoner all eyes turned to the side door. With a guard on each side of her Gomez entered the room. She moved slowly, her arms shackled behind her with a chain to her ankle cuffs, rattling with every step of her feet bare. The chain was so short she had to crouch down some to walk. Her dirty prison uniform has a few buttons open midway down revealing the white curve of her large belly. Each nipple showed a clear outline against the tight uniform. She sat down at the defendant's table trying not to reveal any more of her thighs then necessary. Her short dark hair though matted was combed back. A few welts showed on her arms, but other wise she looked clam and collected for a woman who had spent almost a week under hard interrogation, enduring both the whip and cock. The spectators whispered among themselves, making rude comments about Gomez's appearance. A court officer proceeded to read off the charges. They included recruiting female students for the outlawed rebel movement, writing anti-government newspaper articles, and passing money and information to the rebels. 'How do you plead Professor Gomez?' the judge asked. 'Guilty' said her court appointed lawyer. Gomez wriggled in her chains. The young women behind me gasped. Gomez looked uncomfortable, her fingers tightly gripping her wrist chains. 'Do you want to address the court?' asked the Judge. 'Yes' she said. 'Stand', he ordered. Gomez stood, as best she could in the chains, 'Thank you Sir! My lawyer as advised me to plead guilty and throw myself at the mercy of the court. I regret my support of the rebel cause. I ask that the court grant me probation so may go back to the university.' 'You will remain standing, Ms. Gomez.' He said. She blushed deeply. After a long minute the Judge continued. 'I find you guilty of serious crimes, crimes in which you abused your position at the University, influenced young women to take up a cause against the government, sending them to train in the jungle on their summer vacations, and eventually join the rebels there, as well as undermine the law in the cities. For this we will make an example of you starting with a sentence of life at hard labor. You will be sent a training unit for one year then to a maximum-security prison there you will be worked in the fields and mines at the hardest labor. Visitors will be welcome to view you at labor. We need to make an example of you to show what happens when professors lead our youth down the wrong path. During your first year you will be transported to the University for students to see how the state deals with those who support rebel causes. I will be submitting to the prison board details on how you will be kept and worked. Your workday will be no less than sixteen hours a day, seven days a week, there will be no days off. No clothing of any kind will be allowed no matter what the weather, except for heavy work boots. A full let of shackles are to be used at all times, including, ankle, waist, wrist and neck. Guards will be free to use the lash and electric prod as needed. Unless you are working your wrists will be cuffed behind you at all times. For minor discipline the whipping post with no less than thirty lashes shall be administered, half of them on your bare breasts. More serious discipline will be solitary confinement up to three months with punishment clampings, chainings, whippings, etc. There will be not limits on sweatbox and pit punishments. Transport between facilities will use chains and a locked transport box, no food or water. All body hair is to be removed, including head and eye brows, the warden may change is rule as he sees fit. You will be housed in a strip cell, with no bed or toilet. All toilet functions will be performed within full view of a guard. Strict chain downs will be used at night in the cell. Total darkness, or full hoods and ring gags are recommended to the warden.' 'Bathing will not be allowed, though you may be hosed down as needed, in front of visitors. You will be naked in chains for visitors. Visitors will be allowed to see you in a public area, in your cell, or while at labor. Breasts may be bound during labor for additional discipline. Special sexual and punishment visits can be arranged for visitors. Rings in nipples, nose, labia and clit hood are to be inserted after your initial interrogation period. For visitors your labia rings will be held open with a small chain round your back to expose fully clit and vaginal opening. Display and exhibition on other occasions will also be with labia spread. Forced lactation will begin at six months, using the daily nipple injection method.' 'The prisoner, at the discretion of the prison board may be whored, both in a state brothel and on the streets. Service as a pain whore will be recommended, for up to six months at a time, as will unlimited service to military troops.' Gomez, gasped, suddenly standing up, knocking over her chair, and screamed that her lawyer had told her she would get a light sentence if she pleaded guilty. Out of the corner of my eye I could see one of the guards coming towards her, but he tripped on the chair falling to the floor. Just then a young woman from the visitor seats leaped over the low rail shouting, 'Long live the rebels, free Gomez', and dove for the guards gun. She picked it up and fired a shot at the Judge who had just ducked behind his podium. Every one froze when another shot, this time from the Judge who came around the side of the podium and shot the rebel female in the thigh. Two guards leaped on her, quickly dragging her out. Professor Gomez was roughly placed back in her chair. The scuffle had opened all the buttons on her prison uniform to the waist. Everyone could see her large welted breasts and part of one nipple. Blushing and shocked she looked at the floor, humiliated. Everyone started to whisper about what had just happened. Judge Varz seemingly unshaken shouted for order and continued. 'As you can see from this insane display rebels must be dealt with by the harshest means. I will make a note in your record of this outburst, obvious of your own planning. You will suffer greatly in prison Professor Gomez. I am going to take a personal interest in your case! Court is adjourned Take the prisoner out ' I followed Gomez and her two guards out. On the way to the elevator we passed the well-dressed woman from the holding room being taken to her trial. She was sobbing, pleading 'please PLEASE cover my breasts I can't go to trial like this; everyone from my office will be there! I am an office supervisor, what will they think. Please nooooo.' Her guard just smiled. At the elevator I joined Gomez and her guards for the ride down to the transport area. A security van was already there, it's back doors open. The three steel seats on each side had ankle, waist, and overhead wrist shackles along with a thick hard rubber dildo mounted on the seat. Two rubber-hooded prisoner occupied the inner seats. One was the thin blond from the holding room. She was now naked; her thin toned athletic body secured tightly in chains. Her sentence must have been a heavy one for this van was reserved for prisoners sentenced to long stays in prison. Later I found out she had been a maid in the home of one of the wealthiest families. When the wife found out her husband was having an affair she arranged for a long prison sentence. Gomez was stripped naked, waist, neck, and ankle shackled, then ball gagged and hooded with only a nose hole open. One guard said to the other, 'The Judge wants this one to get the full treatment', holding up a heavy rubber bra, with short spikes covering the inside of each cup. Gomez started to struggle as the bra was put on. The guard pulled a short electric prod off his belt, jammed it between her butt cheeks and pushed the button. Gomez squealed under her gag, lurched forward falling to her knees. Once the guards pulled her to her feet she moaned but did not struggle as her big loose tits filled the spiked cups. 'Cinch her up tight' the guard said, 'this one is going to learn some hard lessons'. Gomez was put in the van, roughly seated over one of the dildos and forced down till it fully penetrated her raw vagina. A little trickle of blood showed on of her left tit where the flesh bulged out. With her arms chained straight up over her head to the sidewall, the guard retightened her ankle shackles forcing her legs wide. Unsnapping a round piece on her bra he pulled out each bruised nipple clipped a spiked clamp to it, pulled it up sharply and secured it to a small chain from the ceiling. Gomez tried to hold her chest up and out but the waist and neck chains were too tight for much movement. I could hear her whine through the ball gag. A drop of blood formed on each nipple mixing with sweat. He had one more clamp in his hand; this one went on her clit, eliciting a muffled howl from the former University professor. Sweat poured down her fleshy sides. The doors of the van slammed shut. 'Where is she going?' I asked the guard. 'Camp 5 for interrogation, same place as that rebel bitch who tried to shoot the Judge.' News travels fast, I thought. A few months there and both of them will wish they never heard of the rebels. The van drove off bouncing over the speed bump at the door of the garage. Professor Pauline Gomez, age 48 was about to begin her new life. The days of faculty parties and dinners at the University Club with new teachers was now over. Her little Tudor style house next to the campus was already up for sale, everything inside already sold. Gomez now owned nothing, the only thing she had of value was her body. In some ways her large full breasts, notoriety, and mature beauty would save her from a life in the mines but condemn her to humiliating use and display.
Chapter 10 Slave Prison It has been almost six weeks since the Gomez trial when the Commander dropped me off at a security outpost in the hills over looking the city. There I got a helicopter ride to the new prisoner training facility, Solisa Prison, located 160 miles inland. It had been in operation for only a few months and from all reports was just what the joint military and prison system needed, a place to train prisoners for jungle transport duty, troop service, hard labor, and interrogations all in one location. It was even hotter then usual, over 105 degrees with one hundred percent humidity, but that was the tropics for you. At least the warden's second floor office was air-conditioned. Its panelled walls gave it an old world look, bookshelves along one wall, a large mahogany desk opposite. Behind the desk on the wall hung a hand made bull whip, it's handle in the shape of a phallus. He sat at his desk playing with two shiny clips. 'These really do the job,' he said, 'all stainless steel, no chance of infection. The spike in the center makes it stay on, no crushing the nipple. You should hear the rebel bitches howl when these go on! I have one guard who uses it on clits and take look at this,' he continued, pulling out a cone shaped piece of metal from the desk, 'this is also stainless steel, we have it in three sizes, but most of the time we use the large size. Once we get it inside the muscle the asshole keeps it there no matter how they try to shit it out, and the wide base keeps the butt cheeks apart so the guard can see it. The ring on the base is for a chain, and that hole can be used to put a few quarts of our special enema into her. Three quarts of that in and even the most stubborn ones are submissive by morning. Here we use almost all chains, leather rots in this climate. The prisoners are always dripping with sweat from head to toe, so rubber cuffs can slip off. Besides chain, we use nylon straps, if a bitch is to be suspended for long periods. The guards like to hang them by the wrists for days at a time in the punishment cells. We don't want to tear them up so they can't work, after all a prisoner is a valuable item. Very valuable, now that we are, let's say renting them to outside parties! You would be surprised how many of the local plantations use our prisoners for field labor. Both the mines in the area rent prisoners, mostly the younger ones who can take the work. We build them up so they are strong enough to do full shifts in the mines the first day, that means 16 hours or more pulling loaded 800 pound carts. Recently a few of the more remote logging factories use them too, mostly for loading and unloading supplies, back breaking work in this heat. We don't charge much at all, as it saves us the cost of keeping them. Since the crack down at the universities and the captures of two full rebel units in the jungle we have over sixty new prisoners, all of them young and strong. All the plantations and mines need to do is feed and house them and provide security. We insist they feed them well, no starvation rations. Uniforms are up to them. Most use the labor in private, controlled areas so clothing is not needed. As for housing they can just be chained at night with one guard. We don't condone it but we know the owners single out certain ones for their own pleasures. All the plantations have special cells hidden deep below the estate houses or other buildings. We don't put any length of time on these agreements. If a prisoner's sentence is up and she has been leased out for labor we just leave her there till the business does not need her anymore, and that can be years. Mostly they want the younger ones, but the mines favor a mature female thinking she can take the heat better and the grueling work. You should take a look at their operation; they have almost replaced the expensive ore carts with ones pulled by small teams of female prisoners. We like to send them the university students and rebels, it give them a lesson in real labor. Nothing like pulling a heavy ore cart twelve hours a day, naked and in harness to open the eyes of these bitches!' he laughed, 'this is only prison that has more solitary confinement cells than regular ones. Almost 60 percent of our cells are solitary. We are not restrained by the rules governing other prisons, as our population is mostly rebel types serving life sentences and a few special prisoners. Currently there are 169 females here. This is a total strip facility, all of the prisoners no matter what age are kept totally naked at all times. We have ones in their late teens to over sixty year old, all are kept in ankle, wrist, waist and neck chains, completely naked. Talking to another prisoner is strictly forbidden. There are no strict rules for discipline, it can be as severe are we want it. Each guard carries a whip, some clamps, and an electric prod. They can be used as much as guard wants. A supervisor reviews prisoners kept in solitary once every three months, but there are no limits on their length of stay or what punishment a female is forced to endure. Guards are allowed to select up to three prisoners as their personal charges, to be kept in remote parts of the prison under their sole supervision. You might ask one of the guards to show you, as I don't interfere in that area. However our main thrust is training for hard labor, both for the hauling of military cargo to jungle out posts and for plantations and jungle factories and mines.' I sipped on the iced beer looking out the window as he explained the new security measures. Below me was a walled in courtyard, exposed to the full tropical sun, empty except for a large vertical wooden post around which knelt three deeply tanned prisoners. 'Want to see them?' said the warden. I set my empty glass down on the marble coffee table and we both headed for the door. At the bottom of the stairs on the main floor a steel security door led into the courtyard. The warden looked into a small screen pushed some numbers on a keypad and the door clicked open. 'The latest,' he said proudly. A blast of hot wet air hit us as we stepped into the burning sun. Walking over to the kneeling prisoners I looked up at the gray sixteen-foot wall topped with double rolls of razor wire, no way out of here. This was a high security prison built for rebel dissidents and special prisoners, before they added the training facility. Many of them young university students picked up in the last round of radical protests. Given the current world situation they earned harsh sentences. They had been sent here to suffer. Here the system demanded obedience and extracted it with harsh penalties from their naked young bodies. A few of what were called 'special' prisoners were also housed here. Some had been the wives and daughters of men who committed crimes, such as bank fraud and left the country. A few mistresses of government officials also found themselves here. Over a dozen mother and adult daughter combinations lived in the prison, cast off of prominent husbands who had found a mistress more suitable to their current existence than the burden of a spoiled wife and daughter. Many of these pairs worked in the local mines, harnessed together in two female cart teams, sweating out their days under the whip. It was an easy way for an official to get out of an uncomfortable situation. They would not be heard from again. The three around the post where positioned with their legs folded under them. Each had a tight neck chain shackled to a ring set in the ground, holding their faces in the dirt. Their ankles were also shackled to wide rings, splaying their legs out to the sides. With hands behind them, wrists secured with steel handcuffs to a chain from the post pulling their arms painfully straight up, their upper arms and shoulder muscles showed the constant strain. All were totally naked, glistening with sweat as it ran down their tan sides. 'We now keep their hair cut very short and pubes bare for hygiene purposes.' The warden said. 'As you can see these three are some of the older ones. The one on the right was a university professor, an advisor to the student paper till they published an anti-government article. You should see her perform in the sex pens, when they bring in the soldiers from field training. She can do forty-eight hours as a sex slave with no breaks. Her former students are always surprised at seeing her here taking cock. The male ones really like to visit her. Some of her female students like to see her howling under a punishment whipping on visitors day.' She looked to be in her late forties, deeply tanned, with thick muscular thighs and a wide back. Large soft breasts pressed into the dirt beneath her sweating torso, bulged out at the sides, caked with dirt. Her large butt cheeks criss-crossed with thick raised welts from a recent whipping. The welts extended down to her plump wet hairless pubes, which hung just above the dirt. Having her legs spread so wide made for a clear view of the professor's reddish brown anus. She must have been ass fucked a great deal. 'When the troops come in from field maneuvers, we supply them with female recreation. Next to the barracks is what they call the sex pens. A prisoner will serve there from a few days up to two weeks. That means they are available for use twenty-four hours a day if needed. The first few days back from the field means a prisoner is in almost constant use. We have no limits in what it takes to please the troops,' the Warden continued, 'this one in front for example has done very well in the pens, they are always asking for her. She was a rebel commander in Matra Province. She is serving life.' The female was much younger then the professor, toned, muscular and big boned. A large stainless steel ring hung from her elongated clit. Her labia and anus were a ruddy red, from some hard use. She clenched and unclenched her anus, trying to keep the hovering fly's from landing on her large brown hole. Whip welts covered each firm thigh. Her head was fully encased in a leather hood. Every rib on the prisoner's chest outlined as she breathed. There was not an ounce of fat on her; obviously she was worked long and hard. As if the Warden read my thoughts, he said, 'She can be worked from sun up till midnight seven days a week. One of the strongest bitches here. We started her in the pump house for five months, then had her transporting supplies, she can carry 140 pounds all day.' The last one was quite young, slim, with huge swollen breasts, thick veins visible just under the skin. She was shackled so tightly that her pubes touched the dirt, fleshy full thighs yielding out to either side. As the warden tapped the side of the sweat coated prisoner's breast with his boot, he said, 'A student, she was editor of a student newspaper, this one we have on the forced lactation program, they start with this new hormone, injected twice daily directly deep into the nipple. In three months the tit size doubles, even triples, and they flow freely. Makes their nips thick and long and super tender, the aureole get dark brown and huge. It really humiliates these radical feminist types, turning their tits in huge milked udders. One side effect is constant sexual arousal.' I could see that her pubes were wet with more than sweat. The warden then raised a two foot black staff he had carried from his office and pressed the end to the anus of the former rebel leader. She grunted and started to move her butt, pressing it against he end of the prod. Soon the tip penetrated her. He gave it a little push burying six inches of the black prod into her dark hole. 'You see even these rebels can be trained. You should see how they perform with each other in the sex cells.' The sweating prisoner vigorously pumped the prod deep in her ass. 'She really wants it in her cunt,' he laughed. Yanking it out, 'lets go see the rest of the punishment compound. These bitches are here for another two days, before we send them back to work in the quarry. They will need their rest, anyone sent to a punishment area gets an automatic two hours added to their workday and double chains for six months. For these three that will mean eighteen hour days.' Going though a door at the right then down a short covered passage between two high walls, led us into a small compound. In the center were five cages made of iron bars, each about four feet square. They stood a few feet off the ground on metal posts. Only one was occupied. Squeezed into the end cage were two naked female prisoners, arms forced together behind them by steel elbow and wrist cuffs, mouths filled with large ring gags, ankles shackled together. They could hardly move in the confines of the cage, pressing against each other, as they shifted their weight on the iron bars. It was easy to see that there was no way to get comfortable on the bars in such a small space. The afternoon sun blazed down on them sparkling off their wet brown skin. They stopped moving at seeing us, obviously hoping for some relief. 'These two were caught fighting,' the warden said, 'a few days in here with no food should cure them of that.' I could see the bruises on their sweating torsos; it must have been quite a fight. One looked to be just out of her teens, slim with small little tits, while the other was much larger perhaps thirty or so. She seemed to be trying to get more room for herself, wiggling her hips in an effort to shove the other. But there was nowhere for her to go, no relief. As we left the younger one let loose a stream of pee splashing some on her cage mate before it dripped onto the hot ground. This began the struggling with a renewed effort. As we left the Warden got a call in his radio. 'Let's go to the transport training area a supply team has just come in.' After a few twists and turns in the compound complex we entered another large walled in area. Towards the back where two window-less concrete buildings and along one wall six small tin boxes. Near each box was a tall wooden post with shackles at the top and a large black rubber dildo mounted on the side. In the center of the compound stood a row of five prisoners, one behind the other. Each had a large round wooden pole across her shoulders, her arms extended out along the pole, wrists shackled to a ring at the ends. A neck chain linked them together, passing from the back of the iron collar between the legs and up to the next slaves collar, with five or so feet between them. Large sacks hung from the end of each shoulder pole. They all looked exhausted. Dirt and sweat streaked down their naked bodies as they breathed heavily, swaying slightly under their loads. 'Each sack is fifty pounds,' the Warden explained, 'we use these teams of five to transport supplies to the military outposts in the jungle. That's a four or five days trek each way. Three guards keep them moving from sunup to sundown, with just water stops every two hours. Once they get to an outpost, they spend the night serving the sexual needs of the garrison then start back with loads of equipment that need repair. We started this almost ten years ago and it's a great system. Takes a lot out of the bitches so we select the younger ones, mostly students. Once in a while you get one like that bitch in the front with all the muscles that can still do it at forty and even fifty but that's the exception. We have one that is almost sixty still on the slave chains.' They all looked very fit, hard and toned. Besides the older one, two where in their early twenties, tall lean, with small firm breasts, another appeared to be a little older, dark skinned with large high breasts and huge brown nipples, her back and butt cheeks where covered with whip welts. The one on the end, staggering under her heavy load was a very short female, sweat streaming down her stout torso, huge full breasts cascaded to her round belly. No doubt what they would call a Jewess American Princess in New York, a term for spoiled bitch. As I watched, the guard ordered them to turn in place to one side, kneel down and place their heads on the ground. As chains rattled they gratefully did so, allowing another prisoner who had been standing off to one side to release their loads and drag them away to a waiting cart. 'Let me show you something over here,' said the Warden. He walked me over to the row of tin boxes along the wall. 'These are the sweatboxes, they are just one of many punishments we use for the prisoner transport teams. You see when they return from a trip, the guards review how well they performed and mete out the necessary punishments.' Of the five boxes, two had the lids down. The Warden lifted the lid on one box. Out came the thick hot smell of female juices mixed with sweat and urine. In the box looking up at us, wet eyes blinking in the sudden light was a bald mature female, in her late forties. She was squatting over a thick black dildo, it's shaft shiny wet, ankles chained wide to floor rings, arms cuffed at wrist and elbows behind her back. Clipped to a steel rod that ran from side to side, her thick nipples suffered. The Warden roughly grabbed one big pendulous tit to show me a clip with its spike that pierced her brown nipple. She moaned loudly through the jaw stretching ball gag, as streams of sweat ran down her heavy body. 'This one failed to keep up with her work quot, even after we added two extra hours a day.' said the Warden, slamming down the lid. In the next box was a young black prisoner, obviously terrified, her eyes pleading to be let out. The vicious nipple clips pulling her high round tits into painful cones. She squirmed on the dildo forced deep into her vagina as she shifted from one leg to the other trying for some relief. Drool from the gag that held her mouth wide cascaded down her dark chest adding to the shiny wetness that covered her dirty black body. 'Her first punishment', commented the Warden, 'been here only a week, another university student, wrote an anti-government leaflet. They gave her ten years, but with her looks she will be here much, much longer. One of the guards has he eye on her for his personal cells.' As we walked back to the kneeling transport team I saw a tall woman, dressed in camouflage pants, matching sleeveless tee shirt cut off just below her breasts, and black high top boots. The last time I had seen her she had longer hair, this time it was cut short but not prisoner length. She was well over six feet tall, darkly tanned, lean and toned. The bottoms of her full breasts peaked out from the clinging tee shirt as she walked to the line of prisoners. On her web belt, hung a thin cane used to administer painful lashes, a short electric prod, and a pair of handcuffs, next to a small radio. Her name was Brit, she ran the transport teams for the military. At one time Brit had been a prisoner herself, caught in a rebel training camp, but after five years in this very prison she opted to stay after proving herself by interrogating new rebel prisoners for the military. Her methods are still used but not widely discussed. Walking with a purposeful stride she reached the prisoners, and took out a sheet of paper. Looking at it Brit directed two prisoners who, unlike the others, were dressed in low cut khaki shorts and sleeveless khaki shirts ending just below the breasts. They were prison trustees, inmates who had a higher status. They performed various duties, mostly caring for the prisoners. These two, bare foot with ankle chains tended the transport chains. The prisoners were still on their knees leaning forward, legs folded under, heads in the dirt, arms shackled to their poles. The loads, having been hauled off by the other trustees. Brit tapped each prisoner with her boot making them position legs wider, butts higher up. With one trustee at the head and the other at the feet of a prisoner, they unshackled the poles and re-shacked their arms behind them, adding ankle chains and another one connecting the ankle chain to their wrists. Consulting her notes she begin to give orders to the trustees. 'This one, 50 lashes with the heavy whip, tits and ass,' pointing to the tall muscular female, as she swung her cane up between the prisoners spread thighs smacking her hanging pubes. The woman yelped. 'And add ten on her cunt!' commanded Brit. As she went down the line, each prisoner was given some type of discipline. The last one, short with huge breasts, got 4 months in the isolation cells, with daily whippings and bound tits. That meant 4 months crushed in a three by three meter closed cell with a stone floor, bound in chains and taken out occasionally for heavy floggings and.forced sex. As they where marched away, Brit said nothing, just nodded to the Warden as she clipped a chain leash to the remaining prisoner, the youngest one, yanked her to her feet, twisted her wrists up behind her, securing them to the back of her neck chain. Then giving her a tap on the tits, implying that she thrust her bare chest up and out, she led her off at a trot. The prisoner barely able to keep up in her short ankle chains. 'Brit has a few cells in the lower levels, where no one goes.' said the Warden, looking in the direction of Brit and her leashed prisoner. 'She calls it her playground, has a former general's adult daughter down there, and her mother. There is another team going out in a few minutes let's wait for them, this group will get one days rest before they too go again. ' Soon the door in the far wall opened and a team of five young prisoners came into the compound escorted by two guards and two prison trustees. The prisoners where made to kneel then put their heads on the ground just behind the carry poles left by the pervious group. As the trustees worked to re-shackle each female to their poles and ready them for the trip the guard brought in a cart loaded with fresh supplies. A supply bag was secured to the ends of each pole and the prisoner's struggled under the weight as they got to their feet. 'Do you remember them?' the Warden asked. 'Yes, in fact I do,' I replied, 'they are from that women's soccer team pickup for rebel activities. It looks like your putting them to good use.' They were all very toned and muscular, and deeply tanned. I could tell that the Warden had been working them to their limits and beyond. It had been almost 6 months since the entire team had pleaded guilty after several weeks in the interrogation unit and received 30-year sentences at hard labor. I saw them being marched naked in chains to the transport boat. As they were between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two and very fit to start with, the Warden put them immediately on sixteen hour work days hauling logs from the jungle like mule teams and pulling carts filled with dirt to make a new road into the rain forest. Worked hard under the whips they quickly gained an understanding of their place, accepting the rule of male guards who demanded absolute obedience. Once again we made our way though a maze of high walls, through locked doors and tunnels emerging in one of many walled in courtyards. At first I thought I it was empty save for a few large posts and rings in the walls, however on closer inspection I saw a dozen or so small metal doors set in the ground. Each door was in two sections, hinged on the sides opening in the middle, with two long rods passing though metal flanges holding the door sections closed. In the middle, where the doors met was a hinged disk with a small lock. Screwed into this disk was an iron pipe sticking up about two feet in height with a cap on it. The Warden smiled at my curiosity. He called a guard over and said, 'Show the Inspector, how rebel prisoners are punished.' The guard walked over to one of the pipes, took off the cap and peed down it. He was reward with a clattering and banging coming from under the steel doors. He laughed. Holding the pipe in one hand he unlatched the metal disk, opening a six-inch hole. Looking up at us were the pleading eyes of a young female prisoner, her face dripping with sweat and urine. She moved her mouth up to the hole sucking in big lung fulls of fresh air. 'Open it up', the Warden ordered. The guard unsnapped the metal disk and folded back the hinged doors to either side. Beneath was a heavy metal grate hinged on the sides the same way as the outer doors. It too had a hole where the sections met. Under the grate I could see an all-metal box about three by three feet. Sitting in it was a naked prisoner, with wrists handcuffed behind her. She had just enough room to sit, but none to stand or lay down. The box was so shallow that she had to bow her head. The bottom of the box was not solid but made up of iron bars with a small space for waste. The smell of waste, female juices and urine wafted up from her. She looked to be in her twenties, dark, hair cut very short, body coated with an oily layer for sweat and dirt, her stubby brown nipples pierced with large stainless steel rings set deep in the tit flesh. She tilted back, mouth open trying to get as much fresh air as she could without looking directly at us. The guard opened the iron grate and had her stick her head up, closing the grate so her neck was secured in the two halves of the hole. Thus she could not pull her head back in the box. He then closed the outer doors leaving her head out. Sliding the rods back in place she was now trapped with just her head sticking out of the box. Sweat streamed down her face as she looked anxiously around. The guard opened five more of the boxes securing each prisoner like the first one. When all six had their heads out he opened the last box and dragged the struggling female out of her box. She collapsed on the ground, gasping for fresh air. 'She was the commander of this little unit of rebels.' The Warden explained. 'We captured them near the prison. They were planning to break out some of the prisoners. Now they are learning what it means to be a prisoner here. After six months or so in punishment they go into training and from there to the labor areas, brothels, or transport units.' I looked back at the six heads sticking out of the boxes. Twisting and turning in a vain attempt to get some relief from the gathering flies they did not take their eyes off their former commander. She appeared to be in her forties, tall, muscular with full round breasts set high and wide on her chest. With her arms shackled behind her and her ankles connected by a short chain. The guard used a few lashes with his strap, making her crawl to a near by flogging post, dragging her tits on the ground. Now caked with dirt she moaned in protest as the guard strapped her wrists to the ends of a short bar. The bar had a chain in the center leading up to an extension at the top of the post. He turned a crank on the post hauling her up, till her feet left the ground. She begin screaming, 'Noooo PLEASE NOOO, DON'T WHIP ME AGAIN! FUCK ME INSTEAD! LET ME SUCK YOUR COCK, DON'T WHIP ME! FUCK MY ASS! BUT NOT THE WHIP AGAIN!' Her dirt-coated legs kicked the air, as the guard took a long lash off it's hook on the wall. The first stroke caught her full across the back curling around her. Sweat flew in all directions as she let out a high-pitched shriek. She screamed for a full five minutes before her voice gave out. Some of her welts opened up, streaking her body with blood and sweat. The guard shouted an order, 'HUMP!', and laughed as she pumped her hips in simulated sex. He rested as she humiliated herself, moaning and wriggling her hips, knowing that if she stopped the whipping would start again. 'Tell me what you want bitch,' ordered the guard. Immediately she started to shout. 'FUCK MY SLUT CUNT SIR!. I AM A SLUT WHORE SIR, I NEED COCK. PLEASE SIR LET ME SUCK YOUR COCK, I WANT TO LIVE ON YOUR CUM. FILL MY FUCK HOLES WITH CUM. PLEASE SIR KEEP ME NAKED SO EVERYONE CAN SEE MY LITTLE TITS AND MY WET CUNT. FUCK MY HOLES SIR!' The other prisoners did not take their eyes off their former leader. Tears flowed down their dirty cheeks, heads nodded as she shouted her new status. As we left, her flogging resumed, now with wild shrieks. The guard had gotten to her tits. 'Now I have someone you need to meet' said the Warden.
Chapter 11 Interrogation of Professor Gomez The Warden lead me though another door and up a steel staircase. The door opened onto a iron grated walk way about ten feet off the ground with hand rails on either side, we turned left walking about fifty feet. On each side were large metal bin like enclosures about the size of a large truck, open at the top with high walls. The heat cascaded up wards out of the bins. Of the eight, three held prisoners. Two of them hung by their wrists from a chain secured to the top of the bin walls on each side. Their feet off the ground, heads encased in heavy cloth hoods, they moaned softly as they sensed our presence. In the last one was Professor Gomez, secured standing in the middle of the bin, and spread-eagled by chains to the sides of the bin. A big dark skinned guard, shirtless in boots and black pants was flogging her with a long wide leather strap. It must have been four feet long and five or six inches wide with a wooden handle. He was administering it to her butt cheeks. Every stroke lifted her off the ground as she threw herself against the chains with a howling scream under her cloth hood. Sweat poured off her totally hairless naked body in streams mixing into the bruised and bloody welts on her blistered ass. As she leaped in her chains her big swollen ruddy tits, bound at the base with straps flung up and slammed down on her chest. Sweat flew in all directions. Four steel clamps sunk deep in the brown areole flesh surrounded each nipple. Along with the rattle of the wrist and ankle chains a smaller chain running from each labia ring ran around her back holding her open so a shiny wet stud in her enlarged clit could be seen. She clinched and unclenched her big bruised butt checks after each blistering leash. Before he could say anything the Warden received a call on his radio and left me there to observe Pauline. At this point the walk way was covered so I settled back in the relative cool to watch the former University professor suffer. The guard would finger her clit till she was gasping, pumping her hips, and arching her back then just before cuming he'd administer a grueling lash. The sound of the strap hitting her wide butt cheeks echoed off the metal walls followed instantly by her howling scream. It looked to me like Gomez has lost some weight in her first weeks in prison. The soft flesh of an upper class life style was gone, replaced by the thin and toned muscle of hard labor. Her fat belly was almost gone, ribs now showed as she strained against the chains. The pale skin of academic life now glistened a soft brown from days in the sun. Solisa Prison was not an easy place to endure for a young woman much less a 48-year-old former University professor. By now she would be getting used to long hours of hard labor. They must have her up to a 16-hour workday from the looks of her body. I wondered how she was coping with being kept naked. The initial humiliation must have passed, but she had yet to receive any visitors. Her shame would quickly return when people saw her from her past life at the University. As for her students I am sure she has no idea what was to come. The Warden sent me an email a few weeks ago concerning plans for taking Gomez back to the University for display to a select group of students. As I watched Professor Gomez endure the strap I started thinking, there must be more to the General's order then meets the eye. Tina would soon be on her way to Mexico City as our spy to buy arms for the rebels. We knew from Professor Gomez that a movement at the University was supplying students and funds to agents of the rebels who passed them on to their jungle training camps. Kidnappings of wives and daughters of Provincial governors and other officials have been carried out, with the victims taken across the boarder where they are tortured and ransomed. All this was leading up to a stronger and more organized rebel movement then anyone had realized. As I listened to Gomez howl under her punishment it came to me that what was needed is a coordinated intelligence effort. We had many rebels now in the prison system but no real way to bring them all together to find out what they knew. Now I had a plan, I would ask the General to find a prison where all the important rebels could be brought together and questioned! It needed to be a secret place where methods could be used to extract the maximum information in the shorted time. I had the uneasy feeling that the rebels were much further along then anyone suspected. We needed to locate their jungle train camps within the next few months before the rainy season started. As soon as I got back to my office I would talk with the General. A few minutes later the Warden returned. He shouted down to the guard to being Gomez to the interrogation unit. 'I just received word from the General that Gomez has a younger daughter no one knew about. She was the go between Gomez at the university and the rebels in the jungle. The General has her at his plantation. Let's see what Gomez has to say about it.' The Warden said as we walked back across the compound to a small building next to his office. Inside the building were numerous doors leading to basement cells. We took the left stairway down two flights. Then right and again right down a low passage. Through two locked gates into a small room. We sat down in some heavy wooden chains behind a low table. The guard brought Gomez in and forced her to her knees on the other side of the table, taking her hood off and tit straps. He pushed her up to the table so her breasts lay splayed out wide on the table top, shackled her arms to rings at each end of the table and secured a chain around her back so she could not pull away. She was silent, dripping with sweat, tears streaming down her flushed face, breathing in heavy gasps. The steel clamps surrounding her nipples oozed a few drops of blood staining the table. The Warden ordered them removed. Gomez looked up blinking back the tears hoping for some relief, but when the clamps came off she screamed in pain as the blood flowed back into her clamped flesh. 'We have a few questions to ask you Professor, if you give us the right answers you will be taken to a regular cell for rest. If you do not I will order to sent to the isolation unit for a month. Do you understand bitch!' he said. 'Yes Sir!' she gasped, looking down on her bare tit flesh spread out on the table. The Warden stood up, 'Do you have a daughter in her late teens early twenties?' 'No SIR, no I don't' she said in a strong raspy voice. The Warden nodded to the guard, 'Nipple her'. He walked over gasped her left nipple, pulled it out hard and nailed it to the table just behind the dark nipple, then did the right one as Gomez shrieked. 'I will ask you again Professor, do you have a daughter in her late teens early twenties' he asked. For a moment she hesitated as the Warden picked up a flexible rod from the table and slowly ran it across the tops of her pinned breasts. Gomez looked down on her generously proportioned tits displayed on the table. At her age the loose full flesh flattened spreading out into two wide meaty mammaries ending in elongated brown tanned areola, covering almost a quarter of the tit. The nail piercing just behind each thick nipple caused it to swell and point up wards. A little drop of white fluid dotted the tip. She open her mouth but before she could speak the Warden snapped the cane across the center of her right mammary leaving a burning red welt. 'YES! YESSS I HAVE A DAUGHTER THAT AGE' Gomez shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. 'That's better. Now tell me what her roll is in the rebel movement.' Ordered the Warden. 'Oh please noooo, she has nothing to do .... Ahaahhhh.' She moaned. 'Hissss SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.' The Warden added three more bloody strips to her suffering tits. 'Strap the bitch down.' He ordered, and then turned to me, 'Lets go out in the passage for a few minutes.' In the passage the Warden told me the General had interrogated Professor Gomez's 20-year-old daughter. The girl was a second year University student who had spent a summer training with the rebels at a camp near the Cordoba boarder. She then became a currier between the University movement and the rebels, traveling by bus every few weeks to the remote city of Marianka with money and plans of government buildings. Captured in a routine search the General ordered her brought to his plantation instead of going to the military for interrogation. I was to visit the General the next day. Going back into the interrogation room, Gomez was in the same position, on her knees, tit flesh out on the table but now she had on a wide iron neck collar with chains going to both ankles pulling her torso up and out. A strap had been added at the base of each fat tit holding it down to the table. The glossy sweat of intense interrogation bathed her body from head to toe. She moaned looking at her nailed nipples. The Warden waved the cane in front of her tapping each big udder. 'What connection does your daughter have with the rebels?' SMACK, SMACK, SMACK,,,,, aaaaAAAHAAAA. Her eyes flew wide open as she yelped, I though she was going to faint. A splash of pee squirted between her fleshy thighs. After a few minutes she composed herself whispering, 'My daughter Mari is a currier for the rebels, she goes to Marianka every month with money and documents, but that is all! Please don't cane my tits anymore SIR! Please I will work hard for you, use me in the fields like the others. I know my place is to serve I will be a good prisoner let me show you! I know I was wrong to support the rebels; I want to prove it to you. I want to be naked in chains, please spare my breasts. I will do anything you ask, I am still young enough for sex! Use me!' 'Good for you Gomez, you will get your wish but first one more question. Has your daughter ever trained with the rebels?' he asked leaning close to her. She blinked back the sweat flowing into her eyes. 'Oh no Sir'. The Warden smiled, knowing she was still trying to hold out. His cane landed three time on the tips of her nipples. He turned to the guard, 'Put her in solitary confinement in the hole, daily flogging. I will tell you when to let her out. This one has a lot to learn.' Gomez was still squealing in pain as we left the cell. On my way back to the city I wondered what Gomez's daughter would be like. Tomorrow I would find out.
Chapter 12 - Jungle Captives
When I got home there was a coded message from the General on my private email. Coded messages for someone in my position were rare, but after all, my work for the General was not my usual job. In fact I was not quite sure what I was doing for him other than running all over the place looking for who knows what. But yesterday the picture seemed to clear up a bit; maybe it would get even better tomorrow. The message from the General was short, it read: TOMORROW 10 AM MY PLACE, JUNGLE TRIP, ARMED.
It has been quite a while since I did a real jungle trip, but orders were orders so I went down to the basement, unlocked the wine cellar and pushed a button hidden behind a case of Merlot. I pulled the wine rack open and unlocked the steel door hidden behind it. Switching on the light I went down a short flight of stairs unlocked another door and entered a small room with three doors. The one on the right had all the supplies I needed, jungle boots, hat, camouflage shirt and pants. I found the clothing but had to look for my special box. Finally, way in back I spotted it. I took out a sawed off M79 grenade launcher and a bandolier of rounds. Putting this in a waterproof pack along with a small pistol I locked up. I was by no means some kind of jungle fighter, far from it. An old friend had made the launcher just for me after seeing how bad a shot I was with a rifle. After all, you could not see far in the dense jungle anyway. I loved the launcher and was actually quite good with it. Better a big bang than a small one!
Out in the entry I took a quick look at the other rooms. Both were prisoner cells, each with a small area beyond the entry door with shackles, whips, clamps, plugs and chains on the walls. At the back was another set of doors leading to the actual cells, an outer solid steel door and an inner one of bars. There was nothing in the cells, just a small light in the ceiling and rings embedded in the walls, ceiling and floors from which hung chains. The concrete door sloped to a drain in the back. I had never had occasion to use either of the cells. I wondered how my secretary Marsia would fair in one of my little cells. Perhaps I should find out. She was always joking about being my prisoner.
The next morning I was seated beside the General on his back veranda sipping an iced orange juice lased with vodka. Ten feet out on the stone patio were two heavy metal posts, with a taught chain running between them. The chain was four or so feet above the ground. On her knees was a prisoner; her big new steel nipple rings were locked to the chain. The fresh two-inch nipple rings embedded deep behind each stiff nipple still showed spots of blood. I am sure they were inserted with out anything given for pain. It was the little rebel I had seen brought in on my last visit to the General. She still had on her jungle pants, mostly torn off below the knee, and split to the thigh on the left side. The pants rode so low on her hips that her pubes almost showed. She was nipple shackled to the chain at a height not allowing her to sit or stand. She struggled with a low squat, shifting from one leg to another. Her arms useless, cinched up behind her, elbows down, wrist up tight to a wide leather neck collar. A large rubber covered ring gag filled her mouth. Large drops of sweat covered her smooth brown skin. From the looks of her torso the little titted prisoner had been recently flogged. She keep looking over at us with desperation and fear in her eyes mixed with the humiliation that comes from a woman forced to show her breasts bare to strangers. I am sure she now longed for the easy life of a university student.
‘She is going to lead us to one of the rebels main camps.’ The General said pointing to her. ‘The little bitch is Mari Gomez the professor’s daughter. This camp is supposed to hold the provincial Governor’s wife and daughter the rebels kidnapped two months ago. Over twenty officials on the remote provinces have had wives and daughters abducted by the rebels. I am getting a lot of pressure to find them. Reports have it that they are taken to secret camps over the border and tortured in some hell prison with the goal of breaking them. We will go in part way by helicopter then use jungle trails for the rest. The camp is in a valley on this side of the boarder; once we take out any guards the rest should be easy. Even if we can’t recover any of the abducted women the capture of a rebel or two will help. Under interrogation they should be able to tell us the locations of other camps. We take our little Mari rebel bitch, eight troopers and six prisoners to carry the gear.’ ‘Sounds good to me.’ I blurted out, feeling like an idiot, I hadn’t been on a mission in years. We continued to sip our drinks and make small talk as we watched Mari struggle in the hot sun. The black stone patio gave off waves of heat, bathing her in a furnace of hot humid air as she hopped from one leg to another, then stood up learning over, finally trying to sit, then doing it all over again in a vain effort to get some relief from the torment of her nipple rings. I could tell she was ashamed each time she tried to squat as the large rip in her pants revealed her bare pussy, the ultimate humiliation.
Twenty minutes later we were in the air flying over dense jungle. I hated flying and especially in helicopters. Apparently the General did too as he didn’t come with us, and I wasn’t going to tell him that there was plenty of room in these big military transports. Actually both of them were pretty packed; the rear one had five prisoners, all shackled on their bellies, heads hooded. And full week of supplies. Brit from Solisa Prison was with them. At least I would not be carrying my own gear.
I was in the rear of the helicopter with five commandos. They were busy checking their gear and ignoring me, which was fine. As the token leader of this operation I really didn’t want to get into military matters with them. At my feet, shackled in a tight hogtie, her head encased in a full canvas hood, still stripped to the waist was Mari Gomez. She had on her tattered jungle pants and heavy boots. Occasionally one of the soldiers looked at her, I didn’t discourage that, but for now her job was to lead us to the rebel training camp.
After almost an hour of flight time we landed in a clearing. The commandos gathered up their gear. Brit readied her prisoners to carry our loads with light metal shoulder stocks. These clamped around the neck with a two-foot section on either side. The prisoner’s wrists were shacked at each end so that she could grab the sidebars. A web bag of supplies hung from the end of each stock. Brit knew I was watching and started to explain her methods. ‘These light stock are padded on the shoulders so a bitch can go all day without her skin being rubbed raw. The grips at the end allow her to use her arms to support the load. All of these bitches are experienced at transport. Each is carrying one hundred pounds. I have them in jungle boots, but other wise they really don’t need any clothing. Clothing just gets hot and dirty, with them completely naked there is no place to hide anything even if they could use their hands. I make a point of it to never let their hands free, even at night. You would be surprised how it frustrates them at first but they soon get used to it. Those bitches,’ she said, ‘pointing three dark tanned prisoners in their mid thirties have been with me for almost ten years, all of it spent naked. They would not know what to do with clothing. And that one’, a large breasted slightly over weight bald female in her fifties with two large rings in her nipples, ‘I have worked for five years. The little bitch on the end is new. I am just trying her out. She was one of the university students caught up on the last sweep of rebels.
We moved out at a fast pace. The trail was relatively clear under the thick dark growth of huge mature trees. It didn’t take long for the prisoner’s bodies to become coated with sweat as they moved under their heavy loads. The only sound was an occasional crack of whip on a prisoner’s bare butt cheeks. After three hours we stopped for a short break. Each prisoner sucked eagerly from a canteen of water held by Brit, as they rested on their knees, still supporting their loads. Two more hours and we arrived at a wide ravine. Just as two of the soldiers started to scan the other side with their binoculars I hear a hissing buzz over head and some leaves falling. Someone across the ravine was shoot at us! Everyone dove to the ground as we returned fire. Without any thought I took out my M79 grenade launcher, popped in a shell and aimed it at a large bolder across ravine. To my surprise it arched up and landed right on top of the bolder. In with looked like slow motion a rebel fell out from either side of the rock landing hard, unmoving. The soldiers looked back at me, one saying, ‘Impressive’. A half hour later they returned with two female prisoners. One, tall thin athletic, look confused, her arms had been cuffed behind her at the wrist and elbows. She wore camouflaged pants and sleeveless shirt. The shirt was torn open revealing a well-toned torso and small hard tits. The other was younger, a university student I would guess, undergoing training with the rebels. She was also in camouflaged pants and jungle boots. With her pretty face and ample figure she did not look like my idea of a hardened rebel fighter. Her eyes moved quickly back and fourth in terror. As she was bare to the waist I assumed she was in training. The rebels, to break down any inhibitions and to develop authority over new recruits had them start their training totally naked, aside from boots. And they stayed that way for weeks, till each earned an article of clothing. All new recruits slept in small huts body against body eventually earning two person huts, during several summers of hard training.
After a quick meal I crawled into my tent. Under Brit’s command the prisoners had set up camp, ate, and were shackled out in the open to a chain running between two trees. As I fell sleep I could hear the sound of a whip and muffled yelps. The new captives were being interrogated. This went on all night, mingled with moans from some of our prisoners being fucked by the soldiers. At dawn we broke camp and headed back to the helicopters. The tall rebel looked anguished, and ashamed at now being stripped naked, shackled in waist, neck, and wrist chains. Her lean body was covered with bloody whip welts. She had revealed the location of several rebel camps across the boarder. Her blond companion was equally naked but unmarked, seeming at ease in a schoolgirl like manner. I could tell she liked the gazes of the several soldiers as they admired her body. Her big firm pink nippled breasts moved with every step.
We landed at Solisa Prison to drop off the solders and prisoners. The tall rebel was also left there for more weeks of questioning in the underground cells. Mari Gomez, the young rebel and I flew on to the General’s compound. Upon landing the General complimented me on a successful quick mission. He ordered Mari sent to the isolations cells and the young rebel to his special interrogation unit. She was marched off with her chest high.
Review This Story || Email Author: The Inspector