Institute of Corrections for Beautiful Girls
Chapter 1 – Sentence
The large, imposing courtroom was filled with a murmur of subdued conversations, which accumulated to a considerable noise due to sheer quantity of ongoing verbal exchanges. The interior of the room was arranged in formal brown and white palettes, which strongly set the tone for an atmosphere of judicial authority. Into these intimidating surroundings the ICBG officers led the proud, but somewhat overwhelmed Melissa. Her bodily restraints were somewhat loosened as she no longer wore the leg irons or a waist chain. Only the standard issue handcuffs remained snuggly on her wrists. There was something else though that caused the alluring prisoner much grief. The strict ICBG safety rules, aside from occasional exceptions, required prisoners to wear a high-security muzzle whenever they were allowed outside of the underground lockdown area.
The muzzle was a brutal device and it seemed even more so when applied to the face of a lithe, delicate and extremely beautiful girl such as Melissa. It consisted of a network
of thick leather straps strategically engulfing the girl's head with a wide, stiff, rectangular patch covering the mouth. It seemed that Melissa's face was somewhat elongated under the
muzzle and the perception was correct as the inner surface of the mouth piece protruded a thick, meaty, three inch long tube into the wearer's throat. Melissa was becoming used to ICBG's methods, yet even so she was shocked that she had to wear such an intrusive and humiliating device for her public court appearance. There were two leather straps extending from the mouth patch and circling her head horizontally, and another two emerging diagonally from the top, meeting between her eyebrows, and continuing as one piece over the top of her head into the fastening point at the occipital section. A further set of straps flowing downwards from the sides of the mouth patch and forming an attachment point for a circular strap closely hugging Melissa's neck completed the punitive contraption.
The diagonal straps extending from the top of the mouth piece were well within Melissa's field of vision and made it impossible for her to brush aside the feeling that the treatment she endured was more becoming of a wild animal then a fawned-over, elegant, and pampered upper-middle-class girl like her. She felt a lump forming in her throat and tears gathering up in the corners of her eyes; yet she was resolved not to fall apart.
Melissa wiggled her wrists in her handcuffs trying to get some movement that didn't follow the rigid paths enforced by her restraints. It brought her some relief and she found it gratifying to realize that she could reduce the stiffness in her joints by exercising the freedom allowed by her bonds. It felt like a breeze of fresh air after confinement to a tight, closed, humid room. She took in a few deep breaths through her nostrils as her mouth was effectively sealed by the vicious muzzle, and was able to regain some of her trademark composure.
Melissa listened to the proceedings with dignity and grace. She even found the moxie to cross her pretty legs and retained a very lady-like posture despite her humiliating circumstances. She kept her head proudly erect and the side of her muzzled face daringly displayed to the gawking, excited crowd. Even in these circumstances she was aware of her attractiveness. She wore a dark grey skirt that ended just above her knees and a light pink wool top with a turtle neck. The flowing curves of her feet were accentuated by a pair of high heel sandals. Melissa’s most trying times came when the saliva building up behind her muzzle could no longer be contained and started flowing down her chin. She timidly touched her representative with her handcuffed hands to gain his attention and pointed to her salivating mouth. The young man who was emphatic of her predicament, though of course hopelessly incompetent at his job, quickly understood and asked the bailiff for a tissue or a piece of cloth. A box of tissues was delivered to the defendant's table and Melissa's representative carefully wiped her mouth and chin area reaching as far as he could under the muzzle. This process had to be repeated a couple of times before she was ordered to stand up and the judge laid down the highly predictable verdict:
For your continuous displays of excessive female beauty, savvy, and intelligence, possession of natural 36DD breasts, and the intimidation and anxiety imposed, willingly
or not, upon the male gender, you are hereby sentenced to 2 years imprisonment in a maximum security ICBG unit. You are henceforth stripped of your female rights for the
duration, and it is the hope of this court that you emerge purified and servile from your penance.
This Court is adjourned!"
Melissa stood stoically after the verdict was read, reconciled to the fact that she would have to face challenging ordeals for all the fun-filled times afforded by her natural beauty. It didn't matter that she remained chaste and pure to this day. There were many men out there who felt slighted by the fact that she turned down their advances even if she didn't do it in favor of another man, but only for her private resolve. Deep inside though, she knew that her punishment was fair. She did feel disdain towards all those men that virtually, and often figuratively, begged for her attention. It was wrong, but she couldn't help it – and now she would pay the price.
The two ICBG officers who transported Melissa to the courthouse approached her again. One of them knelt down and placed leg irons on her ankles while the other inserted a metal pole between her back and her pulled back elbows. The officers then took hold of opposite ends of the pole and led the heavily restrained girl out the back door. The officers walked Melissa to a small holding cell. She was locked inside with all her restraints still on with the only relief being the metal pole pulled from between her back and arms. Melissa could do nothing but wait. There was a small bench in the holding cell that also served as a toilet with an opening in the middle. Thankfully Melissa did not feel an urgent need to relieve herself. She sat on the bench nervous, but also strangely excited about her future. She could not help but feel the erotic aspect of being a stunning beauty bound by chains; cold metal contrasting sharply against her hot young skin.
The trip to ICBG was uneventful. Melissa took in as much as she could of the outside world suddenly feeling extremely envious of all those plain looking, stressed-out people running around with their daily errands. They were free. They had human rights. They didn't have to wear chains. That suddenly felt like so much.
"Sentenced prisoner delivered for admittance." communicated one of the officer's transporting Melissa addressing his message to the reception desk staffer – Beatrice. She just happened to be a bombshell. A twenty-something, recent hire, pouty princess, borderline on qualifying for ICBG herself. In fact her colleagues frequently joked that if they got a chance, they would certainly show her a thing or two about respecting the "strong gender". As it was, she was able to act snooty to both the prisoners and the guards. It was supposed to be her responsibility to take off the prisoners' muzzle and ask a few questions about the inmate's mental state, however she felt disgusted at touching the contraption with all the sweat and saliva accumulated through hours of wear. She would either ask someone to do it for her, or ignore the procedure entirely and fill the questionnaire with typical responses. She decided to do the latter in Melissa's case.
"Stand here!" she told Melissa, pointing to the floor a couple of feet in front of her desk. There was a small stool there, but Beatrice kept the bound and muzzled prisoner standing for the next fifteen minutes while she plugged away at the keyboard of her computer. Once done with the paperwork she looked up, pointed to the stool, and said – "Sit!" Melissa, blushing with embarrassment moved herself in front of the stool and slowly lowered her behind onto it.
The stool was purposely low so that prisoners sitting on it felt increasingly humiliated. Melissa picked up her phone and called for the lockdown staff.
"Take this downstairs" – said Beatrice when the officers arrived. "Prisoner number is P5237, sentenced to two years". One of the officers took papers from Beatrice and then each guard grabbed one of Melissa's upper arms and led her down the hallway. They entered an industrial looking elevator. There was a window nearby and one of the officers pointed to it. "Take a look at the outside young lady, because you will not be allowed above ground during your first month of your stay here". Melissa took a quick solemn look at the outside world, then dropped her head down and shuffled her pretty, shackled feet into the elevator. The metal gate closed behind her with a loud clang. One of the guards pulled a lever and the elevator descended inevitably into the depths of ICBG…
End of Chapter 1
Chapter 2 – Initiation
The elevator came to a jerky stop after a short, but fairly swift descent. The guards led Melissa out and into a small room, which featured an enclosure on the left surrounded by reinforced glass, and within it – a manned guard desk. The room ended on the opposite side with a large, incredibly heavy looking steel door, which looked more like an entrance to a bank vault with only a small, square, metal glass plate at eye level allowing to peek inside. Melissa's guards briefly flashed their badges to the man at the desk. It was a silly formality since these two guards were mainly responsible for transferring prisoners into and out of the ICBG lockdown area. Protocol, however, was taken very seriously at the facility and even seemingly redundant activities were carried out to the fullest extent. The guard sitting behind a thick glass protective shield nodded his head and pressed a button on the desk. A series of heavy but crisp metallic sounds occurred in short succession accompanied by what sounded like little motors revving and doing their duty. The door opened automatically with surprising silence revealing that it was about a foot thick and attached to the wall by the means of mighty hinges.
The guards pushed their lovely prisoner through the gateway and walked into a much larger room in which Melissa's eyes were stricken by a strange contrast. The left side of the room, from her point of view, looked rugged and industrial with another steel door leading closer into a certainly dreary fate while at the other end cement floor gave way to a lush blue carpet reaching up to a wall finished with shiny granite tiles and white parget in between each slab. The guards mercifully led Melissa towards the friendly wall with double wooden doors adorned by floral carvings and door handles in the shapes of lizards. After scaling the inviting entrance, the threesome walked down a bright-lit corridor with numerous side corridors emerging occasionally on both sides and doorways appearing even more frequently. Some of the doors were open and Melissa took a few timid, but curious glances trying to make sense of her surroundings. She saw what looked like an ordinary day in an ordinary though luxurious corporate office. Employees, mostly young and attractive men and women, were sitting at their desks and tapping away on their keyboards or conversing on their phones. A couple of times someone passed through the corridor without as much as taking a glance at our trio, apparently pursuing some unrelated business matters. Finally the group, moving rather slowly due to Melissa's still getting acquainted with the shocking reality of having her ankles bound by leg irons, reached a door at the end of the corridor. The sign on the door read: "Director – ICBG unit 12".
One of the guards knocked on the door and a few seconds later, without an obvious sign that entry was permitted, opened the door and pulled Melissa behind him. The other guard retreated and disappeared from view. The director's room was another gloriously furnished piece of interior decoration. The room was brightly lit, with cleverly concealed sources of light and very peculiar screens on each wall, doing an excellent job of mimicking windows by projecting a coherent image of an elegant urban neighborhood. Without explicit knowledge of being underground, one might have been easily fooled. Melissa was led towards a large mahogany desk in the middle of the room. Behind the desk, reclining in an ergonomic chair sat a man whose regular facial features, short dark hair, and broad shoulders gave him an appearance of casual yet undeniable authority.
"Welcome, Melissa." – spoke the man in gentle, but firm manner, eyeing the chained prisoner as an expert car collector would look at a rare automobile, which he long sought to purchase yet can't reveal the extent of his desire for fear of being price gouged. "As you might have guessed, I am the director of this particular ICBG unit and I also happen to be the superintendent for a couple of other nearby locations. My name is Adam Desquires. You are now in the administrative section of our facility, which you will rarely get to visit during your stay here and the main purpose is to get you acquainted with some of the basic details that you will have to learn to know intimately. It will not make your life easy because ICBG is, after all, a very strict prison, but following the rules will make your transition easier and allow you to settle into a steady routine."
The director stopped to take a deeper breath and picked up a mug from his desk. There was a slight trace of vapor rising from the cup the smell of which betrayed a fine herbal essence. The aroma almost made Melissa's legs buckle under her because she realized that she was desperately thirsty and dry-throated from being muzzled for the past couple of hours. What made things worse was that immediately upon entering the room she felt a deep sense of shame of standing in front of this handsome man in humiliating chains, which she could not take off. Her cheeks grew pale interchangeably with beet-red displays of embarrassment. “This is horrible” –she thought – “I wish I could just disappear or jump two years into the future so I wouldn’t have to through with all this.”
The director, finely attuned and accustomed to the trying first moments of fresh prisoners, noticed her predicament and motioned at the guard: "Take off her muzzle please!" The guard stepped up and with few measured maneuvers unbuckled all of the straps and pulled the muzzle off of Melissa's face. The rubber insertable slid out of her mouth dragging a line of thickened saliva until it finally broke off. The guard cleaned up her mouth and chin with a tissue plucked from a box on the desk. Melissa was grateful to be able to close her mouth for a change and her immediate instinct was to utter: "Thank you very much."
The man looked at her calmly with a subdued smile and said:
"Here's where we can start your introduction to the rules of this place. You will be taken through a very quick transitional period during which your constitutional human rights will be systematically taken away. One of them is freedom of speech. You are not allowed to speak to any of the staff unless granted explicit permission. You are never to speak to other prisoners outside of specifically allotted times. If you need to speak to one of your overseers you may approach that person and stand at attention nearby, though no closer than two yards. Keep your posture erect, but your head down. You may or may not be acknowledged and allowed to speak – it is something that you will have to accept. The content of your speech, naturally, should be kept to the barest necessities. The only real exception around this tight speech restriction is reserved for situations of dire emergencies such as a health issue, fire, or any other significant danger. In such case you should obviously act to inform of the situation as soon as possible and to the best of your ability."
Melissa was still absorbing the harsh meaning behind the man's words when he continued in a somewhat warmer tone:
"I have no doubt that many aspects of your imprisonment will seem very extreme, intrusive or over the top. They are however, specifically designed to reform persons such as yourself; girls of great beauty whose easy glide through life has turned them from potentially very worthy human beings into manipulators and deceivers. You can be assured that the trying experiences you will face here at ICBG will be for yours as well as society's long term benefit. Do you have any questions for me? I can answer one or two if they are quick."
Melissa gathered her presence of mind and said timidly:
"I have so many questions, but now that you've told me all that, I'd rather not ask anything."
"That is a great attitude, Melissa" – replied the man – "I've looked through your files and you are obviously a young lady of great potential, which is one of the reasons why I took the time to introduce myself to you. That will be all for our little meeting here. Officer Burridge will now escort you to a nearby room for a very quick orientation session and after that you will be taken to the lockdown area. Good luck Melissa. I'll make sure to pay you an occasional visit to check how you're doing."
The guard, officer Burridge apparently, approached Melissa and much to her chagrin signaled her to open her mouth and accept the thick rubber shaft of the muzzle. He quickly buckled the straps tightly around her head and then led her out of the room. They only passed a couple of doors walking the corridor in the opposite direction before the officer turned to the right and opened the door labeled "Orientation and Assimilation Liaison". Melissa was led inside the room where several rows of chairs were facing towards the wall to the right. There was a small pulpit in front of the chairs and a projector attached below the ceiling was casting its rectangular light onto a whiteboard screen behind the pulpit. Just as Melissa was about to settle down into one of the empty chairs, another man poked his head into the room:
“There’s been a slight change of plans” – said the man to the guard. “We don’t have anyone available for orientation at the moment so go ahead and take her directly to lockdown.”
“Ok then, you heard the man. Let’s go.”
Melissa and the guard made their way out of the administrative section and proceeded this time to the heavy steel door. The guard punched in a code on a small console next to the door and a yellow light started blinking above the door. The guard opened the door showing some physical exertion in the process, pushed Melissa inside, followed her in and shut the door behind them with a loud bang.
End of Chapter 2
Chapter 3 – Lockdown
The first impression of the lockdown area was predictably imposing. Bare concrete walls, floors and ceilings, and lights behind metal crates placed high along the walls illuminated a medium sized room. There was a desk near the entrance and a beautiful ebony woman, looking maybe thirty-ish in age rose from her chair and walked around to meet Melissa and her guard. The guard pulled out papers from his pocket and gave them to the black lady. She took the paper and started typing on the keyboard of a desktop computer.
“Prisoner P5237” – said the woman – “ok, everything’s fine.”
She glanced at and motioned towards Melissa:
“Come over here, you just need to sign this and you can be on your way.”
Melissa shuffled towards the desk and awkwardly took a pen presented to her by the ebony beauty. She had to position herself immediately next to the desk because the waist chain did not allow to move her handcuffed hands more than a few inches away from her body. Melissa quickly signed the document at the designated place all the while fighting back the tears of shame building up in her eyes and swallowing with difficulty feeling like she had a big lump in her throat.
“Proceed to medical” – ordered the woman.
The guard once again took Melissa’s arm and led her towards the door behind the desk. The next room indeed had a distinct feel of a medical facility. There were tiles on the floor and halfway up the walls. There were several curtain divisors and some elaborate equipment scattered around the brightly-lit room. One detail, however, betrayed that it was not a civilian walk-in clinic; a steel cage or cell was mounted in the corner, left of the entrance. The guard led Melissa to the cage, opened its door and gently pushed the girl inside. He picked a plastic box from a stack near the cell door and followed Melissa inside.
“Here’s what’s going to happen” – said the guard. “I will take-off your chains and lock you in here. You will take off your clothes including your underwear and shoes and place them in this box. Then just sit on the bench and wait for the doctor to arrive. Unfortunately you didn’t go through the usual orientation so you may accidentally get yourself in trouble with some of the staff, but the main rule is to just stay calm, don’t make any sudden movements, don’t speak without permission and always do what you’re told. Understand?” Melissa managed a meekly “Yes.”
The guard began to undo Melissa’s restraints starting with the muzzle and then proceeding to free her from her leg irons, handcuffs and the waist chain. He took all of the restraints and locked the cell door. He left with all the chains except for the handcuffs, which he hung on a wall-mounted hook near the holding cell.
Melissa was alone for the first time in quite some time and at first felt disoriented and apathetic. Already these past few hours did something to her as she half-expected someone to tell her what to do or where to go. Then she realized she was ordered to strip. There was little choice in the matter and Melissa assured herself that she had to take off her clothes during doctor visits before. Still she felt that it would be different this time. The society at large had very little information about the conditions at ICBG. There was a fairly strong rumor though indicating that prisoners were routinely kept naked for their entire sentences. Melissa found that unfathomable and no one so far confirmed nor denied that rumor since she was sentenced and brought to the prison. It was one of the questions she wished she had asked the director, but she found herself tongue-tied and the opportunity was gone. Reluctantly she began to undress. She took off the top, then slipped off her tight fitting skirt and stepped out of it as it fell around her feet. She stopped now, looked around, took a deep breath and reach behind to undo her bra strap. Soon her wonderful large breasts were displayed to daylight in a sight that no straight male could pass by without a sudden jump in blood pressure. Then she slid her panties down her legs revealing a clean shaven mons with delicate folds of skin forming a regular slit that so many men tried to imagine in their fantasies yet only two of her former boyfriends had seen and admired in reality. Finally, she stepped out of her high heeled shoes and placed her dainty feet on the cold, tiled floor of the cell. After placing clothes in the provided box, Melissa tried to sit down on a metal bench within the cell, but at first contact her buttocks recoiled from the cold hard surface. She decided to remain standing for the time being and anxiously awaited the promised doctor.
Indeed, only a couple of minutes have passed before the doctor trundled in carrying a pad with some papers on it, which he was browsing as he walked. He was a young and friendly looking man with an intellectual’s face. Melissa instinctively covered her breasts with one arm and her pubic region with the other. The doctor walked up to the cage door and took handcuffs from the hook.
“Melissa, is it?” – asked the doctor and without waiting for a reply continued – “Let’s get you checked out. Stand over here with your back facing the door and put your hands behind you near the opening.”
The doctor was referring to a small rectangular inlet in the cell door and Melissa futilely tried to prevent exposing her nakedness as long as possible by walking up to the door still with her arms covering strategic points of her body. She turned around at the door and only then put her arms behind her back. The doctor placed the handcuffs on Melissa’s wrists and tightened them gently, but firmly. He produced a set of keys from his white coat’s pocket and opened the door. The doctor turned Melissa around and led her out of the cell and into the middle of the room. He stood in front of her. Melissa once again was close to breaking down and crying because of the overbearing shame. She could hardly bear the fact that she had to stand naked in front of this fully clothed, strange man. The handcuffs locked behind her back only added to this insult.
“I am going to perform a few simple checks and tests to create a baseline for your medical history. You will be brought back here every couple of months to monitor how you’re doing health-wise. Now let’s see.”
The doctor started going through the motions of checking her pulse, looking down her throat, testing her reflexes, motion range and stiffness of her limb joints and so on. The most uncomfortable moment came, predictably, when the doctor started probing Melissa’s genital region with his gloved hands. He had her seated on a medical chair and put her feet in stirrups where he affixed them with leather straps. He proceeded to open her pussy with a speculum and peered inside first just looking around, then probing with his fingers. Finally, the procedure was done and he released Melissa from the chair.
“Everything’s fine. I’ll call the guard and you can be on your way”
The doctor went over to the door and called out. Soon, the familiar guard appeared and once again took Melissa by the arm. He led her back into the ebony beauty’s desk where the woman handed him a paper printout.
“Here’s her cell assignment.” – said the woman.
“Thank you ma’am” – answered the guard and took Melissa towards another door.
They walked into a corridor that did in fact have rows of cell doors on each side, but they did not stop at any of them and proceeded towards another elevator instead.
“These cells are rarely used” – explained the guard – “they are just overflow cells in case there’s no room on lower levels. This is level “A” and you’ve been assigned to level C. It’s not the worst that could happen. With your beauty I surely thought they would put you on level D. That’s tough life indeed.”
They took the elevator two levels down and walked out to find another corridor lined with much narrowly spaced cell doors. They stopped in front of a cell labeled C37.
“Well young lady, this is your stop.”
The guard opened the cell’s sliding metal door and Melissa was ushered inside a room that looked like the inside of a grey empty box – it was similarly featureless. Melissa was startled at a loud sound of metal hitting against metal behind her. It turned out that besides the solid door, there was an inner door consisting of metal bars and the guard just slid it shut.
“Stand by the door with your back towards me” – ordered the guard. Melissa complied and backed up to the bars. The guard took a single handcuff attached to a chain at his belt and locked around the chain of Melissa’s handcuffs. He took them off the girl’s wrists, however when Melissa started to move away he said firmly:
“Stop. Turn around and come back to the door. Put your hands in front of you.”
Melissa did as she was told and soon her hands were chained together again, this time in front of her body.
“You mean I am supposed to wear handcuffs inside the cell?” – asked Melissa incredulously.
The guard did not respond. Instead he opened the door and motioned for her to step out. Melissa walked forward. The guard took her chin in his hand and moved it up a little bit. Then he took a measured swing and gave Melissa a modestly hard slap on the face. The girl was too astonished that she forgot to start crying as she stood in wide eyed bewilderment.
“The director told you that you’re not supposed to talk without permission. The punishment for talking out of order is usually a few hours of wearing a muzzle or sometimes worse. Since you’re new, I’ll give it a pass, but don’t count on it happening again.”
With that, the guard pushed Melissa back into the cell and locked both the steel bars as well as the solid door behind her. Melissa’s confinement has truly begun.
End of chapter 3
Chapter 4 – Caged
Confined to her cell, Melissa’s emotions flooded to the surface. She paced the length of the cell to the wall, then back towards the locked door. She grabbed the inner bars and futilely shook them as if that was going to bring her closer to freedom.
“I don’t believe this” – thought Melissa – “How can they just take my life away from me like this? Am I supposed to be a naked and chained animal for the next two years? And for what? I haven’t done anything wrong!”
Melissa’s internal monologue continued for a while in a similar tone of self-pity until finally she was able to take a deeper breath: “Ok” – she thought – “I need to think clearly for a second. So much has happened in a short amount of time and I just don’t have any information. I need to find out how to contact mom and dad. I didn’t see them in the courtroom. I wonder why? Maybe they just couldn’t bear to look. That’s probably for the better, but I want to see them as soon as possible. That’s another thing to find out – when can I have visitors? I sure hope they’ll give me something to do here. This cell is completely empty! I’ll go crazy of boredom in a few days if I’m kept here. They didn’t let me put my clothes back on and gave me nothing else to wear so I guess the rumor about this place was true!”
Melissa sat down on the cell’s bed and looked down to her hands. The handcuffs fit rather snuggly around her wrists and looked so surreal against the backdrop of her naked body. She raised her bound hands and moved her arms in opposite directions as much as the slack in the cuffs would allow. There was no reason for her to be chained inside the cell since there was clearly no way of escaping so the purpose of the handcuffs must have been psychological. They were a constant reminder to the fact that in the eyes of society she couldn’t be trusted with having her movements unrestrained. As if she was going to attack anyone! A lithe and delicate girl like her who has never even been in a fight.
There was no clock in the cell so Melissa had no sense of the passage of time. The cell, being underground, obviously did not have any windows and the only light, built into the ceiling, gave off an unchanging glow. Melissa looked around, but she could not find any switch to operate the light. It seemed that such liberty was not afforded to ICBG prisoners. The sparse amenities inside the cell comprised of a metal bed or cot in one corner, a small toilet in another, and a tiny table with two stools around it. Melissa began to understand that her life was now utterly outside of her control. She would be told when to eat, sleep, work, and who knows what else. Her cheek was still stinging from the slap administered by the guard. It was unfathomable. Throughout her short adult life, men were always exceedingly polite to her, intimidated by her beauty, flattering and agreeable almost to a fault while trying to gain her favors; and now this. Obviously the rules of society, as she knew them, did not apply in this place. She was at the mercy of her jailers and who knows to what lengths they would go to ensure that she is “reformed”. Was there even a limit to their authority over prisoners? Prisoner! Inmate! That’s what she was called several times in the past few hours and every time it happened she wanted to object – she is not a prisoner or an inmate. Other people, bad people may be, but not her. The words were still buzzing in Melissa’s ears and nearly brought her to tears all over again. In her entire 23 year-long life, she had not experienced half the humiliation that she’d gone through within a single day. Melissa found it particularly unsettling to be restrained in chains in front of other people. There was something deeply humbling about it – the overwhelming awareness that those around her were free to move as they pleased while that privilege was no longer hers. It made her feel so low. “Is that the point?” – she thought – “Everything about this place seems to be setup to make me feel as insignificant as possible. As far as I know, even high security prisons don’t keep people naked or handcuffed in their cells.” Melissa once again became acutely aware of her nakedness and she curled into a ball on top of her cot as if trying to cover up from prying eyes. “I have to try to get through this somehow. I am sure they are not going to keep me here for two years, it will be a couple… maybe a few months at most.” – she thought hopefully. “I wish someone would talk to me and explained what I need to do to get by. How can I get any information when I am either gagged with that horrible muzzle too cruel to put on a dog and I can’t speak without permission when my mouth is free?”
Almost as if in response to Melissa’s last thought, she heard footsteps outside her cell and then the sound of a key working the lock. The now familiar officer Burridge opened the solid metal door.
“Are you settled in by now young lady? I have someone here with me who will speak to you about the rules you must obey.”
Officer slid open the barred door and entered the cell. Following him was a woman, who looked around thirty five years old and had a look and demeanor of a bored office worker.
“This is assessor Shelby.” – introduced the guard – “Mrs Shelby, this is Melissa…”
“Prisoner P5237” – corrected the woman, obviously not a big fan of the guard’s informal and conversational tone. “I am going to be your assessor. Each prisoner is assigned one and it will be my job to evaluate your behavior as you serve your sentence.”
“Sit here at the table” – said the guard to Melissa. The girl, having already got up from the cot as the pair entered, moved towards the table and sat down on the stool pointed to by the guard. There was a small metal ring mounted on top of the table. The guard produced a padlock from his elaborate belt, which featured a number of steel and leather implements such as pairs of handcuffs, a collar, a baton, a couple of short chains, and several more padlocks; apparently a well stocked arsenal of a jailers tool belt. The guard reached down toward Melissa’s hands and grabbed the chain between her handcuffs and pulled it onto the table. He affixed the padlock such that it went around Melissa’s handcuff chain and the table ring, effectively securing the prisoner in her place. Mrs. Shelby sat opposite Melissa and put a folder of papers on the table. She taxed the pretty prisoner with a rather scornful and aloof eye, stopping longer on the round and full breasts, shaking her head as if in disapproval:
"No wonder you ended up here… nature's been way too kind for you to become a decent person. I can already see that you'll be a difficult case to work with and we'll have to break some sweat to cut you down to size" – Mrs. Shelby obviously had her mind made up about Melissa. "Let's start going over rules. I've been told by the officer that you already know about the speech restrictions for inmates. Let me just add that you're allowed to ask questions while I am here, but don't interrupt me too often, make it count. Now, about your accommodation: you're a level C prisoner, which means that you'll generally be spending 16 hours a day in your cell and the remaining 8 you'll spend doing your assigned duties. These could be work assignments, obedience training sessions, behavioral schooling or punishments. Many activities that you'll be a part of will seem like punishments, but they are in fact essential to your progress here. Back to your accommodations – you will remain naked throughout the duration of your sentence, which will run for two years. You will be handcuffed most of the time, whether inside or outside of your cell and, in addition, you'll generally be shackled outside. You might occasionally get a reprieve from restraints, but you could also be restrained a lot more strictly, especially if you get written up for disobedience or other misdemeanor. The key, as you probably started to figure out, is to follow the rules and orders. Do you have any questions so far?"
"How often can I have visitors?"
"Not for the first two months. After that you'll be permitted a monthly visit from at most two persons. These visits will be the only times when you'll be allowed to put on clothes and they'll be taken away immediately after."
"Will I be able to have anything in my cell? There's nothing here. How about books?"
"Good question. Maybe you're not a total waste of space despite those shamelessly large breasts. Here at ICBG, we fully support intellectual progress of our prisoners. Each inmate is assigned two books to read every week, chosen by the prison, and those who have filled the quota can pick one additional book from an approved list. Failure to read at least two books will result in some severe punishments so you'd be wise to keep that in mind. You will be tested for knowledge of your assigned literature and in fact the circumstances of the test will be somewhat unpleasant for you. But you'll cross that bridge when you get there. Let's just say that the quicker you can answer the questions – the easier you'll make it for yourself."
"Can I have some pen and paper as well?"
"No, you cannot. You are not allowed to hold in your hand anything that resembles a sharp object unless you're closely guarded and properly restrained. You might occasionally be allowed to use a computer in our small lab, but don't count on it unless you earn some serious points for good behavior."
"Now, let's see, what else…" – pondered the woman – "Ahh, yes, you'll be fed regular meals – these will be dropped through the slot on the bottom of the door. Make sure that you eat everything that is provided and do not keep any items. Your cell can be searched at any time and if anything is found that doesn't belong… well, it will not be pleasant for you. Other than that, the main thing is to always do what the prison staff is telling you to do. If you can manage that, you'll do ok. With time, you will begin to understand the reasons for and long term benefit of such strict rules. I will be reviewing your progress monthly. I will have full insight into the record of your transgressions and if I deem them severe enough, you may be assessed appropriate punishments. You might even get reclassified to an even stricter imprisonment regime so try your best to stay out of trouble. That's all for now. Officer!"
Officer Burridge let Mrs. Shelby out of the cell and she disappeared without wasting time for parting pleasantries while he came back to the table. The old guard unlocked the padlock attaching Melissa's hands to the table.
"There, young lady. You should get some sleep now. It's 8pm now and your day may start as early as 5am tomorrow."
"Thank you" – said Melissa.
The guard frowned – "Remember that Mrs. Shelby told you that you can speak only as long as she's here. Now stand here, raise your head and keep it straight."
Melissa sighed in frustration and anger, wanted to protest, but managed to contain her emotions. She dropped her handcuffed hands in front of her, and held her face up. She already figured what was coming as the guard raised his hand. What followed was a fairly hard slap on her cheek – opposite from the one punished before.
"All done" – said the guard gently – "always make sure that you follow orders very closely so I won't have to do things like this. I don't really enjoy punishing pretty girls, but there are some people around here who do. Alright now, have a good night!"
Melissa, wiser this time, only nodded her head in response to the guard's words. The doors of the cell soon slammed shut and once again she was alone. She decided to take the guard's advice and try to get some sleep. There was a thin blanket on top of the cot in which she promptly wrapped herself. For a little while, Melissa shifted around nervously and had thoughts racing through her mind once again, but soon the toll of the day's events proved enough to let her plunge into a deep sleep.
End of Chapter 4
Chapter 5 – The burden of gravity
It was a beautiful morning. The sun was just coming over the horizon and casting its marvelous golden ambiance onto the ground below. In the midst of the illuminated surface lay a gray brick compound surrounded by a tall, barbed wire fence. There were few windows in the whole structure whose purpose was certainly far removed from providing any aesthetic beauty. One would need to morph into a small bird to be able to find any openings in the imposing building. Suppose that such shape shifting were possible – a person could find their way through a tiny ventilation opening between the bricks near the ceiling, venture down empty and sterile hallways, sneak through the elevator leading underground, and emerge on a corridor rhythmically called “Cell block C”.
If this bird had any human male-like instincts, he would be well advised to stop in front of a door engraved with a locally relevant symbol of C-37. Inside, a beautiful young girl was serenely enjoying the final moments of a well deserved sleep. Sometime during the night, she has thrown off a thin cotton blanket serving to provide her as the only means of covering her naked body. She wasn’t aware of it – the only thing that mattered was a delightful relaxation afforded by being disconnected from the troubles of reality – even if just temporarily. Her hands, though unaccustomed to being confined within tight iron bracelets, were resting leisurely near her face. Melissa was sleeping peacefully despite the circumstances and her face was showing an angelic expression indicative of a clear conscience. At least in her mind, not unlike any common criminal, this prisoner believed to be innocent of any crimes and a victim of scheming or wrong doing by others.
Presently, a sense of remembrance was starting to peek through the hazy veil of her dreams. One by one, the oft traumatic events of the previous day began to flow into Melissa’s mind. It only took a short while before she had full command of her normal, waking-hour perceptive abilities. Soon, she determined that her sleep disturbance was caused by a muffled cacophony of noises coming from outside her cell. There were sounds of shuffling steps, rustling of chains hitting against each other and dragging against the floor, shouted commands and banging at the doors. A short while later one pair of footsteps grew louder than the others and there was a loud knock on the door of Melissa’s cell. A little slot opened at eye-level and a male guard peeked through it making a quick scan.
“Get up, and order your bed! – invoked the guard. “Then stand on the yellow line with your back to the door. Keep you hands behind your head.”
Melissa startled at the authoritative tone of the guard’s voice. She still wasn’t used to being issued commands and it was grating on her to find that everybody around her suddenly seemed to have dominion over her person. Nonetheless, just a few seconds later, she got up gracefully from her little cot. She felt pretty good considering the circumstances and a natural instinct compelled to outstretch her handcuffed hands high above her head and arch her back almost parallel to the floor. A set of quiet yet satisfying cracking sounds in her back told her that her body appreciated the gesture. The guard, still peeking through the door slot, felt a sudden onrush of saliva in his mouth, accompanied with a tinge of electricity running along his back and a warm pleasant feeling in his loins – all at the sight of this chained young beauty. Being a professional that he was though, he soon managed to contain his urges and retain a pose of quiet confidence and stoic demeanor… at least for now.
Melissa did the best job she could to straighten up the thin blanket over the top of the cot and turned her eyes to the floor. There indeed was a short yellow line painted parallel to the door, about three steps away from the cell’s sealed gateway. The girl turned her back to the door and positioned her bare feet on the designated line. Then she hesitated a bit, raised her arms half way up, let them drop, and then finally raised them above and behind her head while knotting her fingers.
Shortly there was a characteristic sound of the heavy cell doors sliding open, followed by a higher pitched noise triggered by the inner bars being unlocked. Melissa could hear the guard step inside and position himself behind her. Her emotions built up quickly in anticipation and presently she was almost shivering from the mixture of fear, anxiousness and embarrassment. The guard got down on one knee within arms reach of Melissa’s lovely legs. A raindrop-like sound of chains hitting the hard cement floor reverberated through the cell.
“Spread your legs a foot apart.” – said the guard. Melissa complied and soon she felt a cold touch of iron around her left ankle and a ratcheting sound to accompany it. The same process repeated on her right ankle and a shiny pair of leg irons was now snuggly affixed around her lower extremities. The guard padlocked a chain between her leg chains and ran it up to and around her waist. It took a further two padlocks to adjust the waist chain to the circumference of Melissa’s slim waist and connect the slack to her handcuffs. All the while, the guard moved close behind Melissa’s body and unabashedly placed his hardening, trouser-covered manhood between the girl’s butt cheeks. He promptly, though regrettably backed off after completing the chaining process.
“Before I lead you out, I will do a body search. You will be searched this way on most days though it’s up to the attending officer whether to carry it out.”
The guard proceeded to first do a general pat down, which seemed ridiculous to Melissa since she wasn’t wearing any clothes, but the guard went about his business very methodically running his hands down her sides, back, stomach, and legs. He took a little time with Melissa’s awesome breasts taking each one fully in his hand and trying to lift it up – trying because the girl’s bosom, despite its ample size, seemed to defy gravity. No sagging could be reported even by the harshest critic. The same held true about Melissa’s finely crafted and toned behind, which presented a mouthwatering curvature. After the pat down, the guard took a pair of latex gloves out of his pocket.
“Open your mouth… wide.”
Melissa hesitated a bit, but complied and parted her lips. The guard unceremoniously cupped her chin with one hand, pulling down on it to further bare the girl’s teeth and placed the thumb of his other hand against the upper lip. He looked intently down Melissa’s gaping mouth moving his fingers to expose the crevices between her gums and cheeks first on the left and then on the right side. The effect of this intrusive procedure left Melissa feeling that she was treated like a horse at a market getting assessed by a prospective buyer. Certainly not a usual circumstance for a beautiful and pampered girl who just yesterday morning woke up in the comfort of her luxurious apartment and had breakfast brought to her bed by a hired Mexican maid. The guard continued his meticulous work by lifting Melissa’s tongue and looking under it. Finally, he pulled his fingers out of the girl’s mouth and pushed up on her jaw. Melissa breather a sigh of relief, but the worst was yet to come.
Without much of a warning, the guard lifted Melissa’s hands as far as the slack of the chain would allow, which was at breast level, knelt down and proceeded to part her delicate pussy lips. He brought his face close to Melissa’s vagina and started peering inside with the help of a small flashlight. Apparently, even that wasn’t quite enough to convince him that this girl wasn’t hiding contraband in her tight and almost virgin pussy for he shoved his gloved fingers inside the sweet canal and probed around. After a few seconds, the guard pulled his hand out and gave Melissa’s pussy a quick little rub as if to soothe it. He got up and walked behind the chained prisoner before hunching down once again.
“Bend forward and stay that way.” – came the guard’s order.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was coming and Melissa, being a smart girl that she was, could only muster another sigh – this time of frustration. Nonetheless she bent down obediently and even felt a slight tinge of excitement peeking through or maybe being fueled by her humiliation. The guard expertly parted her butt cheeks and looked intently at the girl’s anal cavity. Next came the intrusive finger probe though thankfully the guard showed some restraint and only pushed his finger, slowly and gently, maybe an inch inside Melissa’s exposed ass. The guard finally stood up and took off his gloves placing them in a little plastic bag, which he then put away in his pocket.
“You may stand straight now.”
Melissa promptly put herself back in a full upright position while the guard took her by the upper arm and led her out of the cell.
Out in the cellblock, unlike the first time Melissa saw it, there was some ongoing activity. She could see several other guards mostly male, but a few female as well, walking in and out of cells and moving along the corridor. Between them there a few naked girls, each a fine sample of feminine beauty, most of them chained in a similar fashion to Melissa and some even more severely restrained. Melissa and her guard stood in front of the cell door for a few moments watching the passerby traffic until another member of the staff approached leading a couple of prisoners in tow. They were naked and female of course just like all the other unlucky inmates of ICBG.
The two girls were chained at their hands and ankles, and additionally joined to each other by a peculiar form of coffle. Steel, dark grey collars were locked around their swan-like necks and linked together by a bar running between them. There was a single chain link between each collar and the respective end of the bar allowing the rigid structure to pivot at the attachment point, but preventing the two girls from getting closer to each other than the length of the bar allowed. One of the girls’ collar had a second attachment point and another steel bar and collar combo hanging down along her body. Melissa immediately guessed its purpose. She took a deep breath and braced herself for the coming indignities.
The guard who chained and searched Melissa picked up the surplus collar, used it to pull the two-girl coffle in the desired direction and brought the steel ring to Melissa’s neck. He applied the collar in a couple of trained motions and departed leaving the trio of chained beauties in the company of the other guard.
“Form a line in this direction, facing the elevators. Now walk forward, brisk pace, but steady” – the guard succinctly put forth his commands.
The girls moved in the designated direction, stepping somewhat awkwardly in their chains with Melissa being at the front and also the clumsiest of the three in her restraints. At some length they reached the elevator door and were ushered inside by the guard who then stepped into the box as well. The elevator made a quick trip down to level E, stopped, and the door slid open once again to reveal a room leading off to several other exits. To the right, there were evenly spaced doors, three in total, which naturally suggested the existence of small prisoner cells behind them. There was a circular desk in the middle of the room, the interior of which was occupied by a couple of the staff. None of them paid any head to the entering party. The guard now led the girls towards the cell block on the right. There was a length of chain with a pad lock hanging off a wall between cell doors, which the guard used to attach to the ring at Melissa’s neck collar.
“Wait here a minute.” – said the guard quite unnecessarily and turned his stride towards the staffed desk.
The guard and the other officers engaged in some hushed conversation, which couldn’t reach the prisoners’ ears with enough auditory force to be intelligible. All three girls kept their heads dropped low and their eyes fixed to the ground until now, but after a minute of idleness, they began to peek discreetly to the sides trying to assess their companions in plight. From what little she could see underneath her eyebrows, the girl linked directly to Melissa was a slender, brown haired girl with a pretty face and a delicate bone structure. She was leaning against the wall as if exhausted. The girl at the other end of the coffle was a little taller and more robust. She had pitch black hair and just a hint of ethnic vibe suggesting Asian origins – Indonesian or thereabouts. Unlike the other two girls, she did not appear to be too perturbed by being naked and chained up. She moved with grace and practiced fluidity within the confines of her restraints while Melissa often had her hand or foot caught in a sudden painful stop when the slack of her chains ran out. Normal instinctual movement like fixing one’s hair now had to be consciously suppressed at least until new habits were formed.
Melissa acknowledged the fact that her new companions were very attractive women yet she couldn’t help but think with some typical vanity, that she was the prettiest even among these beauties. The girls looked like they were in their late teens or early 20’s so roughly around her age. Melissa was still doing this mental assessment when the guard returned to the girls.
“Ok, ladies, you will wait in the holding cell before you are moved to your daily activities. You can talk while inside, but keep it quiet.”
The inside of the holding cell was yet another in a series of stripped down, featureless interiors that now dominated Melissa’s world. The walls were painted white and the only piece of furniture was a steel bench that ran around the entire cell except for the doorway. The girls were led by the guard to the opposite wall and made to sit down. All three of the chained beauties winced as their bare buttocks and pussies came into contact with the cold, steel bench. After a few seconds their body heat warmed up the surface of the bench and it was no longer uncomfortable. The guard exited the cell and slammed the door shut behind him. There was a moment of awkward silence between the girls.
“You’re new here, right?” – asked the exotic beauty while looking over at Melissa.
“Yes, they brought me in yesterday, right after I was sentenced. How long have you been here?”
“Seven months. And I have five more to go. What’s your name?”
“Melissa, it’s nice to meet you. I wish we were in more pleasant circumstances. I feel so humiliated.”
“It’s alright. Beginning is really tough, but you’ll get used to many things here that you never thought could be a part of your daily life. My name is Sinta by the way although I go by Selena since I moved from my home country.”
“And I am Amanda.” – offered the girl in the middle in a quiet voice. Melissa acknowledged her and then leaned forward to look at the ethnic beauty to ask a question that was presently burning in her mind.
“Selena, you said that you have five months left in your sentence. Isn’t there any way to get freed earlier like for good behavior? I can’t possibly stand this for two years!”
“I wish it was, but it’s very rare. I’ve met a couple of girls here that got out early, but it was only by a month or so.”
It wasn’t the answer Melissa was hoping for and she bit down on her lip to prevent from sobbing. She raised her hands to adjust the steel collar that was beginning to chaff her neck, but of course the connecting chain stopped her short of doing that and the whole operation ended in yet another painful display of the restraints’ effectiveness. Selena smiled knowingly.
“It will take some time before you figure out what you can and cannot do in these chains. Try to avoid any sudden movements for now… you will save yourself some cuts and bruises. I am so used to it by now that I know exactly how to move and where the limits are. And I noticed there’s actually some benefit to it. I can move and walk a lot more gracefully now then I ever could before – even though I wasn’t a klutz before I was locked up.”
“Well that’s just awesome, can’t wait.” – said Melissa with a hint of sarcasm, yet she couldn’t help but feel that she was already starting to like Selena.
Amanda, who stayed quiet other than introducing herself, sighed, closed her eyes, and let her head fall back and lean against the wall.
“Are you ok?” – asked Melissa.
“Yeah, I am fine. I am just so tired. They tortured me for most of the night and I only slept for an hour or two before they woke me up again.”
“What do you mean they tortured you? – Melissa was incredulous and shocked.
“Well, I am afraid you’ll find out yourself sooner rather than later. A lot of it is scary and it can be painful, but they’re careful not hurt us seriously and you can get through it. After a while you might actually start to like some of it, many girls here do.”
“I really doubt it. I can barely stand being naked and chained like an animal in front of all these strangers.”
“It will happen. It took me about a month before I started adjusting.”
“Same for me.” – added Selena. “I resented what was being done to me and pouted all the time, but then I figured that I need to move on and accept my place. So, you just have to…”
Selena broke her speech mid-sentence because there was a sound of the door latch being unlocked and a moment later a guard walked in. He proceeded straight to Melissa and unlocked her collar freeing her from the coffle.
“You two are going to wait a little longer.” – said the guard and then turned to Melissa. “You, on the other hand, have a session scheduled in the suspension chamber.”
Before Melissa could ponder what that meant, she was being led out of the holding cell, leaving Selena and Amanda behind. The guard took her back through the room with the circular desk in the middle and passed a doorway into another corridor. There were steels bars here blocking the way and the guard opened an inset door with a key from a hefty keychain hanging at his side. Melissa was now guided to the first door on the left. She looked at a plaque affixed to the door and wasn’t terrifically surprised to see that it read: “Suspension Chamber 1”. The guard ushered her inside and Melissa quickly and anxiously took a measure of her surroundings. It was a fairly large room, well lit and it was clearly divided into two sections. Closer to the entrance stood several desks with office-style chairs beside them, plus a few more freestanding seats, while the opposite side featured a slightly elevated concrete floor, maybe by a dozen inches, without any furniture. Immediately though, Melissa noticed that there were five chains, evenly spaced every three feet or so, hanging from the ceiling above the elevated floor and each ending a few feet from the ground in a pair of leather cuffs. The chains were held up by a system of pulleys that routed all of them towards the right hand wall where they disappeared into small openings. There were five crank wheels on that wall as well, one underneath each chain feeder. The opposite wall showed an even more sinister sight with a whole array or instruments such as whips, canes and riding crops hanging off of it in a neat arrangement.
A sharply dressed man was seated at one of the desks near the floor’s stage-like elevation and seeing the entering party reached over to a large stack of papers and pulled a single folder. The guard led Melissa to stand right in front of and facing the desk and the suit-clad man.
“Let’s see what we have here. Prisoner number P5237, named Melissa, 23 years of age, serving a two year sentence. Ok, I am Dr. Martin and I am a psychologist and behavioral specialist here at ICBG. I will be conducting most of your sessions here in the suspension room. Here’s the deal. These sessions are designed for maximum time effectiveness as well as therapeutic efficacy. They will teach you and train you to communicate in a precise and concise manner and also test your patience. You will be suspended by your wrists from one of the chains behind you. I may ask you questions while you’re up there, which you must answer immediately and truthfully so that you can be let down as quickly as possible. You are to hang without any excessive movement. It is well known to us that girls tend to instinctively bend their legs while suspended like this and this is not allowed. You’re also forbidden to speak other than to answer questions. Do you understand?”
Melissa’s eyes were growing wider and wider in bewilderment from the time she entered this room and even more so once she heard the mesmerizing details of his speech. Therefore, she was unable to muster any reply at first and in fact she was hardly aware of having been asked a question.
“I asked you if you understand.” – pressed the man.
Melissa managed a quiet “Yes.”
“You are a big girl Melissa; you should know that you address those with authority over you as sir.
“Yes sir.” – blurted Melissa almost automatically.
“Good.” – the psychologist motioned to the guard – “Hang her up.”
The guard took the shivering Melissa by her arm and led her towards the “stage”. There was a step cut in the middle that made climbing onto it easier, especially for chained feet of pretty female prisoners. They ascended the steps and stopped below one of the chains, the second one from the right from the psychologist’s point of view and directly facing his desk. The guard proceeded to take off Melissa’s waist chain and leg irons, leaving only the handcuffs. He raised her arms above her head to meet with the hanging leather enclosures and fitted them around Melissa’s slender wrists. Only then did he take off the girl’s handcuffs.
Melissa was left standing in place, breathing quite rapidly in nervous anticipation, as the guard approached the crank wheel labeled simply with a number “4”. He turned the wheel with ease and Melissa found her wrists getting pulled up towards the ceiling. Soon her arms were fully outstretched above her head and she had to get up on her cute, french-pedicured toes to keep contact with the floor. The guard paused for a second, as if to increase the tension, and then pulled the wheel by another revolution. Melissa’s feet suddenly cleared the ground and she felt the full weight of her body being transferred over to her cuffed wrists. She was a slender girl, though her buxomness and well defined hourglass figure augmented that to an extent. The leather cuffs around her wrists were apparently well designed because she didn’t feel them cutting heavily into her skin as might be expected yet the overall strain of her position still amounted to some significant discomfort.
Melissa now hung in all her naked glory a foot above the floor. Both the psychologist and the guard, despite being used to handling the sight of beautiful naked girls, were staring in awe at the scene in front of them. The gravity-induced tautness of Melissa’s body, so shamelessly displayed, was assaulting their senses and driving powerful urges. Her head was presently tilted slightly backwards as she tried to cope with her plight. Her breasts and stomach were both flattened as a natural effect from being thus outstretched. Her legs, on the other hand, were finely displayed with great curves tracing the lines of her thighs, calves, and the arches of her feet. Melissa hung still as ordered with her body only slightly swaying back and forth resulting from when she was pulled up and occasionally exacerbated when she moved her head. After the initial shock wore off, she was able to think a lot more clearly and she threw a couple of glances at her tormentors.
The guard was watching her with a stoic look although there was a lecherous undertow in his facial expression. The psychologist was taxing her carefully, taking down some notes in the process. She also noticed that he was presently fixing his gaze directly on her pussy. This realization kicked-in her modesty back in gear. She raised her thighs up and crossed her legs at the ankles trying to hide her sex from view.
“Remember that you are supposed to be still and not bend or raise your legs.” – said the psychologist.
The guard walked over to the wall with the assortment of punishment instruments and picked up a black riding crop. He walked onto the stage behind Melissa’s suspended body and glanced inquisitively at Dr. Martin. The good doctor decided to be magnanimous with his prisoner and raised his hand with only an index finger extended. The guard took a measured, relatively slow swing and stroke the girl centrally across her full round behind. A satisfying smack could be heard and Melissa sucked in air through her clenched teeth and threw her head backwards again. She instinctively started to raise her thighs and cross her ankles again when she realized that that got her in trouble in the first place. It took all of her will power to allow her body to hang freely off the merciless chain. No more blows followed and the guard stepped away.
Another dozen or so seconds have passed before the psychologist snapped his fingers at the guard. “Let her down.” The guard turned the crank wheel in the opposite direction from before and Melissa now found herself descending back to the floor. A moment later her feet were back on the ground, which felt better than ever before now that she didn’t take it for granted anymore. She was unhooked from the leather cuffs, but not before being placed in her ordinary handcuffs. The waist chain and leg irons were not re-applied.
“That’s it for today Melissa.” – said the psychologist. “You’ve done relatively well although you obviously have much to learn. We’ll be having these sessions three to four times a week. I will quiz you on your book assignments during these sessions so make sure to carry out the assigned reading and do so attentively. Do you have any questions for me?”
Melissa dropped her head and shook it. Then raised it with a startle and said – “No sir.”
“Good. Take her away then, officer.”
The guard led Melissa out of the suspension chamber and back to the elevators. Soon they returned to level C and Melissa was once again securely locked in cell 37. She sat down on her cot and only now felt her heart start to beat to a normal rhythm. Examining her feelings was difficult at this point with such a massive sensory overload. Dissipating fear and nervousness was mixed in with embarrassment, anger, and strange sense of excitement. Melissa decided not to force the issue too much and try to get some rest. The guard briefly mentioned before leaving that she would be retrieved from her cell in a couple of hours for further training. It already began to dawn on her that training was just a politically correct euphemism for punishment and torture.
Melissa laid down on her little cot, rolled up into a ball, which was a welcome change after the stretching her body underwent while hanging, and lolled off into sleep.
End of Chapter 5
Chapter 6 – Exposed Holes
“Prisoner, get up!” – yelled out a guard banging on the door of Melissa’s cell. Abruptly shaken out of her uneasy, post-traumatic slumber, she stumbled out of bed, getting her handcuffs entangled with the blanket in the process. After some short fidgeting and fumbling around, Melissa managed to get off her cot and stood in the middle of the cell eyeing the guard whose unfamiliar face was peering through the door slit.
“Your meal is here. You have 10 minutes to eat and return the tray along with all remnants of food and utensil.”
The guard opened another slit in the door; this one located at the very bottom, and slid a tray of food just inside the cell under a matching opening in the bars. Melissa waited a few seconds before the guard departed and carried the food to the little table. At this point, Melissa half-expected to see the plate filled with bugs and rotten eggs, but surprisingly the food looked quite appetizing and it soon turned out that it tasted good as well. The meal consisted of a lean chicken breast with seasoning, rice, broccoli and a small roll. There was also a cup of grape juice and a small bowl of vanilla ice cream.
“Whatever they have in store for me, it looks like starvation is not part of the plan.” – thought Melissa as she devoured her meal. Only now she had realized that it’s been some 20 hours since she last ate and the sight and smell of food awakened a raging appetite. However, always ladylike, Melissa ate slowly and deliberately, picking off small portions at a time, as if she was at a fine restaurant rather than a dungeon-like setting of a grueling prison. The handcuffs on her wrists fortunately did not prove to be a particular hindrance. She had to eventually hasten her pace mindful of the time restriction, which she had no doubt would be enforced very dutifully. Indeed, after exactly 10 minutes, there was a sound of steps outside her cell and the guard peeked inside at the naked prisoner.
“Go ahead and return the tray, then stand on the yellow line with your back to the door and put your hands on your head.”
Melissa complied swiftly on both tasks and shortly the guard was inside her cell and a rattle of chains was heard as they dropped to the cell’s concrete floor. The guard walked around to face Melissa and held up a pair of handcuffs to her eyes.
“These are your custom fitted handcuffs that you will be wearing from now on. They were made according to the measurements taken during your physical exam and the same goes for the shackles. It should make it a little more comfortable, which is important since you will be wearing them for long periods of time. You can see that your inmate number is engraved on all these.”
Melissa looked at the handcuffs and indeed there was the alphanumeric combination “P5237”, now a substitute for her name, etched in the shiny steel surface. The guard took of her “old” handcuffs and quickly replaced them with the custom made pair, which didn’t really look different and there was maybe a slight reduction in weight to be perceived. Nothing really to write home about. Soon, Melissa was placed in leg irons and a waist chain connected to the handcuffs. The guard led her out of the cell and they hitched an elevator ride down to level E. On the way through the corridor, they passed the suspension chambers. Melissa shuddered as they walked by the first chamber, having flashbacks of her earlier torture and punishment. The door to the second one went ajar and a sharply dressed man, most likely another behavioral psychologist, made his way down the corridor. Melissa caught a glimpse of the interior before the door was shut. It looked just like the first chamber and the elevated stage section featured two girls hanging by their wrists off of two rightmost chains. One of the girls was just receiving a lashing from a guard positioned behind her – apparently she transgressed the impossibly strict rules of the suspension chamber.
Melissa had little to no time to dwell on the poor girl’s plight as she was walking to her own uncertain fate. They passed a few shut doorways on either side until they stopped at one labeled: “Technique Enhancement Facility”. The guard opened the door and led the chained girl inside. Melissa took one anxious glance at the room and gasped loudly in shock. On each side of the room there were three elaborate steel contractions. Each one started with a single sturdy pole driving out of the floor. At about a man’s waist level, the pole split into two thin beams, parallel to the floor. The whole structure was augmented with a narrow, black leather, padded bench on top. The parallel beams extended in opposite directions at right angles to the bench and each ended in a sturdy shackle. There was a pivot point near the top of the main pole that obviously allowed to change the angle of the bench as well as a telescope for height adjustments.
The contraptions looked scary, but the real cause of Melissa’s horror was the fact that two of them, one next to another left of the entrance, were topped off with the unmistakable curves of young female bodies. Their bellies were positioned on the leather benches while their legs were spread to the sides, bent in frog-like fashion, and their ankles enclosed in metal shackles of the extending beams. Their front-handcuffed hands were taken around and underneath the bench where they were affixed to another, smaller steel beam, perfectly positioned just for that purpose. A chain ran around each girl’s waist and encircled the bench holding them firmly in place. Melissa almost immediately recognized that the two girls mounting the contraptions were Selena and Amanda whom she met just a couple of hours prior while waiting in a holding cell. Now these two beauties were lewdly exposed in a most humiliating way. The benches were adjusted in such a way that their fronts, where the girls’ heads were, pointed slightly downwards and away from the viewer, which meant that the genital areas of the occupants were prominently displayed. One small difference in the girls’ predicaments was the fact that Selena’s head was resting on the padded bench while Amanda’s was drooping loosely downwards. Apparently the front part of the bench had a hinged section so that the head support could be, and in this case it was, taken away.
The guard casually ignored Melissa’s distress and pulled her towards the last unoccupied contraption in the back-left corner of the room. Our prisoner kicked her bare heels in the ground and refused to move. It immediately occurred to her that she was forced to behave like a stubborn pack animal.
“Yield and obey, quickly!” – said the guard.
He gave a stronger tug on Melissa’s arm and the girl had to stumble and move forward in her shackles. The guard pulled her to the free apparatus and tinkered with it by lowering the bench down to Melissa’s upper thigh level. Then he unhooked the prisoner’s handcuffs from the waist chain and pulled them around and underneath the padded bench, where he padlocked them in place to the undercarriage beam. Next he took off Melissa’s leg irons and the waist chain.
“Ok, now lay down on top of the padding and I’ll lock you into place.”
Melissa only had to lean another couple of inches as she was already almost fully bent down on the bench due to restriction placed by her handcuffs. The guard pressed her down onto the apparatus, took her right leg and guided her slender ankle into the steel shackle. Then he repeated the process with her left leg. Once she was immobilized, the officer operated the telescope on the main beam raising the girl up to the level of a typical man’s manhood. The guard didn’t adjust the pivot to point Melissa’s head downwards like Selena’s and Amanda’s were, but that was a very small relief given the circumstances. Melissa laid exposed as she never dreamt she would be in her entire life. Presently, she could feel the room’s ventilation breeze gently creeping in, fondling her delicate pussy, and making its way between her butt cheeks. The guard stood behind her, admiring the view for just a few seconds, of which Melissa was acutely and painfully aware, before the door to the room went ajar.
The guard went away towards the door as a man walked in; also guard by the looks of it. The two officers exchanged polite salutations in passing as Melissa’s most recent tormentor left the room. The newly arrived guard proceeded to a small post in the middle of the room that ended at the top with a black box. Upon pulling a lever on the side of the box, a small tea-bag sized container emerged through a slot in the front. The guard took it and approached the station to which Amanda was tightly fastened. A quick pull of the officer’s finger on the edge of the small container ripped it open and another flick of the hand retrieved a circular, rubbery specimen. A condom!!
Melissa watched in horror as the guard unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers. He quickly rolled the condom down the hardening shaft of his penis; his movements showing neither haste nor undo excitement. He positioned himself right behind Amanda’s immobilized and contorted body and pressed the tip of his cock against the girl’s pussy. With one smooth motion he penetrated her almost to the base of his shaft and began rhythmically sliding in and out, taking well measured, crisp thrusts of his hips.
Amanda, whose head remained passively dropped all the way until her pussy was invaded, now raised it up level with the ground. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing became faster and audible. Before long, she was eliciting some slight moans as the guard continued his “duty”. The hard shaft kept sliding along the girl's moist tunnel. Melissa expected to see trauma and agony, but Amanda reacted quite differently than anticipated. Her facial expression went from tense, to exasperated, to one portraying unmistakable signs of pleasure. The guard's hips kept thrusting against her restrained posterior establishing a comfortable rhythm until finally, several minutes later, climaxing in a violent outburst of pent up, violent sexual energy. Both Amanda and the guard, shouted as in unison, to indulge themselves in the carnal pleasure. The guard briefly slumped over along the girls back, breathing in the sweet moisture of her young skin, and enjoying the sensation of having orgasmed into a body of such a lovely young creature.
Then it was over. Once again, there was a prison guard in the room and three chained up female prisoners. The officer tidied himself up and discarded the condom into a nearby trash can. He then walked leisurely between the bound silhouettes of the pretty prisoners. He stroked Selena's face and fondled her breasts, whispered some sweet nothings into her ear, then went around and approached Melissa's contraption from the rear. Her helplessly exposed butt protruded almost in the guards face especially when he bothered to lean in a little bit. Without being able to look at what's happening behind her, Melissa could still feel the guard's hot breath on her anal cavity. Breath in, breath out, harder and harder, and each exhale throwing a forbidden stream of air at her virgin opening. Finally the guard blew the air out of his lungs with one powerful sweeping motion – Melissa jumped in her chains to the extent permitted by her restraints. She tensed up to the utmost waiting… and nothing followed. The guard stepped back, zipped up his trousers, and casually left the room.