Dark Erotic Fiction

James and Janice went into the Mexican place and got seated at a nice table near the gas-fired fireplace. It was a nice, romantic table. James wondered if that was why they were seated there. He doubted it; Janice was younger than his daughter. He must look like a father out with his daughter. He reflected briefly that Janice could be his daughter, then dismissed it; she was his slave.

Janice was quiet. Her could tell that she was afraid to say much. She expected to be whipped and punished for no reason at all; doing things that might invite more punishment was really stupid, from her point of view.

He finally said, “Janice, I an not the slave owner that you seem to expect. I have no desire to whip you or punish you. If you do something that displeases me, I will tell you. Punishment is something that follows correction, if correction doesn’t take. You are a beautiful young woman, and I desire you. I also know that you are smart, and I like smart girls. If I were to punish, it would be for dumb behavior. Please relax. We are at the stage where we get to know one another. That’s important even for owner and slave. You need to figure out what I expect, and I need to figure out what to expect from you. You already know that I’m not going to keep you naked and chained in public, because we are in public and you are clothed and not chained. Do you have any questions for me? Any at all? No penalties for asking.”

“My father told me that you enslaved your wife and your daughter and put them in a slave prison. Is that true?”

“Yes. In my daughter’s case, it was to save her. She was arrested for drunk driving, and if she got convicted and sent to the county slave auction there is no telling where she might have ended up. I took her voluntary enslavement and agreed with the prosecutor and judge to send her to a slave prison for a year. My wife, on the other hand, was not a voluntary conversion. She was grossly overweight, had refused sex for years, bitched all the time, and was falling apart over our daughter’s situation. I put her in the prison to lose weight and stop griping all the time. I suppose I could have sent her to a slave training facility that wasn’t a prison, but I can move her to their less intense facility later.”

Janice considered this. She had been afraid that he was a cruel man that had punished his wife and daughter by sending them to the prison. She could tell he had imprisoned his daughter out of concern to save her life. Perhaps that was why he had sent his wife there. “What are my duties to be?”

“You will manage my household. You will clean the house, wash clothes, cook meals, wash dishes. I have a lawn mowing service that deals with the basic maintenance of the lawn, so that won’t be part of your duties. If you like, you can work on flower beds and vegetable garden, but that I leave to you. I enjoy working on those things myself. As I already told you, I will be having sex with you. The common way of putting that is that I will be using you for sex. I prefer slightly more elevated language than that, but it is essentially a euphemism, because you won’t have much choice in the matter.”

She appreciated the straight talk. She knew she would be dealing with his household chores, and she knew there would be sex, but she wanted to hear it from him. The real test of her situation was the details about the chores and the sex.

She was about to ask another question when he asked her. “What would you like to drink? I think they make an excellent margarita here.”

She replied, “I’m not 21 yet. I can’t legally drink a margarita.”

He smiled. “You are thinking like a free woman. That’s not all bad, but in this case it limits you. You are not covered by a lot of laws, like the indecent exposure laws and the drinking age laws. If I allow you to have a drink, you can have a drink. It is your option; I won’t make you drink, and I won’t select your drink. Would you like to have a drink?”

“Yes. I’d like to try a margarita. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” The waiter came by and he ordered two large margaritas on the rocks. When the waiter left, he said, “Do you have more questions?”

“Will I be chained while I do housework?”

“No.”

“Must I be nude while I do house work?”

“No. It would be delightful to see you nude all of the time, but it is more important that you be comfortable. It is counterproductive to make you uncomfortable. This doesn’t mean that I might tell you to be nude at times for my own enjoyment, but not if it is hazardous to you.”

So far, so good, she thought. He even admits that he may require me to exhibit myself. I expected that. At least it won’t be all of the time. “How will I obtain supplies like cleaning supplies and food?”

“I have three cars. I’ll give you the keys to one of them and a charge card for household items.”

“Will I ever have time off for myself?”

“Yes. Most evenings, after supper and before bed. During the day, if the house is clean, the larder is full, and the clothing is clean. Longer periods if your work is satisfactory, you ask in advance, and I approve it.”

“Will I have a budget for personal items?”

“Sure. I’ll include that in the household supply budget. Personal care items, reasonably-priced personal entertainment, like music, video rental, magazines, books. I’ll establish dollar limits after I’ve thought about it a while. I hadn’t done it before because I didn’t know what kind of slave I would get, and this came up fast. When I heard that you were available, I jumped at it.”

The waiter appeared with their drinks, and James gave him his dinner order. Janice didn’t need to consult the menu; she ordered her favorite meal. She had been here before.

When the waiter was gone again, she tried the drink. She liked the flavor, and the warm glow that started in her stomach. Her owner said, “If you haven’t had alcohol before, you need to go slow.”

“I’ve had beer. In fact, I’ve had quite a bit of beer, so being intoxicated isn’t new to me. I figured out what my tolerance is. I think that most mixed drinks have about the same amount of alcohol as a beer.”

“Correct. Please continue with your questions.”

“Will I sleep in the same bed as you?”

“Yes, most of the time. When it isn’t convenient, or I have a female guest, if I ever do, there are other bedrooms. I’ll have you put your clothes and other belongings into a spare bedroom that can be your room. The room has a desk, a bed, a dresser, and plenty of closet space.”

“Will your wife be returning, and if so, what will happen to me?”

“I hope she will. When and if depends on the progress she makes. If she does, you may be sleeping in your own room, at least most of the time. I won’t get rid of you, though. She always wanted household help, and she will have it. I will not permit her to abuse you. I’ve decided that even if she comes home, she stays a slave. If she is too obnoxious, she goes back. If she abuses you, I might make you head slave. I’ll deal with all of that when the time comes.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“Two cats.”

“Oh, good. I like cats. Will I be chained to your bed or restrained for sex?”

“Chained all the time? No. Will I ever want to have you in bondage? Yes.”

She was silent for a while, absorbing the answers. She finally asked, “Are you going to … put .. yourself .. your … inside me .. tonight?”

James sat back and reflected on that question. It seemed to him an obvious answer, but it obviously wasn’t obvious to her. He finally asked, “Have you ever had sex with a boy?”

“I sucked a few of them, but I never let them .. put their …” She seemed unable to put the concept into words.

“So you are a virgin?”

“Yes.”

“Even after the slave training?”

“Yes. When they found out my hymen was intact, they didn’t … fuck me. They made be blow them and they … took my butt. They didn’t .. invade … my … pussy.”

James was taken aback. A virgin? That would have been a big selling point! She would have gone for ten times the price! Either her father didn’t know, or he really did want his daughter to get a good owner.

He finally responded to her question. “Yes. I am going to take your virginity tonight. It is an awesome gift. You obviously fear it, but there isn’t anything to fear. It can be joyous, enormously enjoyable, fulfilling. I will do what I can to help you enjoy it.”

She was shaking in fear. “Other girls told me how it was. Pain as their hymen tore. Thrashing on the bed, more pain, none of the good feeling that people talk about. Just pain and loss.”

“Janice, it can be that way. It can be that way especially with a boy that has never done it before that is only concerned with getting his cock inside a girl and getting off. I’ve been there, inside a girl. I don’t need to get in as fast as possible. I can go slowly, get you ready, lubricate you, help you enjoy it. There may be pain and even blood as your hymen is broken, but that is a short thing. We may be able to do that with fingers first. After it breaks, the vast possibilities of sexual pleasure are open to you. I may be your owner, but I take it as a sacred trust to help you through this. Please relax. Enjoy your drink and your meal. I think that life may be better than you have been afraid it will be.”

Janice was shaking. She had been afraid. However, this man, her owner, seemed to understand her fear. He was going to fuck her anyway, but he understood her fear, and he vowed to deal with the problems she was afraid of. That helped. So did the alcohol. In response to his raised glass, she drained her cup, and wanted more.

Slave Prison, Chapter 10: A Long Night’s Caging

Megan woke slowly. She was sore and cramped. The vibrator in her cunt had stopped, but it still stretched her. The lights were still low, but she knew that the cameras in the room had let web viewers see her anyway. She caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. When she looked down, she saw that it was a camera on the floor point straight up at her. Great, she though, an all-night beaver shot on the internet. It must have been put there after she fell asleep.

Finally the door opened and a trusty came in. She turned on the lights. Megan saw that it was cunt 3905. Cunt 3905 said, “Good morning, cunt 4566. Let’s get you down from there.” She used the controls on the wall to lower the cage to the floor and used a key to open the cage. It took several minutes and a lot of help for Megan to unfold herself from the cage, stand, and take a few steps.

Cunt 3905 said, “Come with me. I’ll take you to a shower area where you can clean up and get the kinks out with some hot water. The guards were excited by you staying in there all night, so you’ll probably get a lot of visitors today. Your regular punishment schedule is cancelled for the day because you were punished all night.” Cunt 3905 led Megan to a room with a toilet, a shower, a sink, and necessary items like towels, shaving cream, razors, soap, toothpaste, and a toothbrush. Cunt 3905 locked a long chain to Megan’s collar, then removed the belly chains and hung them on the wall out of Megan’s reach. “Go ahead and shower and remove all stubble below your neck. Wash up, brush your teeth, and generally get ready for a lot of sex. You have plenty of time, so take your time in the shower and let the warm water help your muscle cramps and aches. I’ll get get you some aspirin with your breakfast, which you will get after you are done in here.” With that, she left the room and closed the door. Megan heard the door being locked. She shook her head. Chained to the wall and locked in the room? These people liked redundancy. She looked around and noted that there were several cameras that could record anything she did in here. She thought, I might as well give them a good show.

Megan didn’t realize it. Many of the slaves in the prison didn’t. The slaves that put on the best show for the paying customers of the web site got special treatment, a little slack on the punishments, unless it interfered with the show. They also got a little more food and whipped a little more lightly. Her attitude of putting on a show, which she was doing partly out of defiance, played into their hands and actually made her situation better.

The hot water of the shower did make her muscles feel better. After a long, satisfying hot shower, she shaved herself in the shower with the hot water still running. She figured the little flourishes she made would excite the watchers on the internet. She finally stepped out, clean, shaved, smooth, and relaxed. She towelled herself dry, making sure to display her wide-open cunt to one of the cameras, then went to the sink. She figured she couldn’t make it all that exciting, so she got it done quickly, then used the blow drier that was by the sink to dry her hair. She didn’t know that there is a sizable number of men to whom a woman drying and brushing her hair is a big turn-on. She got several more ratings points over that. It didn’t hurt that she was shapely, in shape, well-proportioned, with nice boobs and a beautiful swell of the hips and a prominent mound. When she was done with all of her preparations, she sat on a chair and waited for her minders to show up.

It didn’t take long. As she suspected, they were watching her on the cameras, and once she was done with activities that might excite watchers, she was moved on to other activities. Cunt 3905 came in, put her belly chains back on, unlocked her collar chain, and led her to a chow hall area. Cunt 3905 chained her to a table, unlocked her wrists, and sat beside her. A hobbled slave brought both of them breakfast trays. The meal was far better than the meals she had gotten in the prison so far. She didn’t know it, but her approval ratings on the internet were earning her better meals.

After breakfast, cunt 3905 took cunt 4566 (Megan) to a room that was part of punishment area 1, but wasn’t full of devices to inflict pain or misery. This room contained several comfortable beds. Cunt 3905 chained Megan’s collar to a chain attached to one of the beds, then removed her belly chains. “The guards will want to fuck you, so we might as well make it comfortable for them and for you. Make them like it. It will be better for you if they like it.” Megan lay down and immediately fell asleep. She figured that if they wanted to fuck her, they would wake her up.

She was right. Every half hour or so, another guard would come in, disrobe, and join her on the bed. She actually enjoyed most of the encounters. One of them was the guard that had said he would look her up, while she was standing on the gallows with a noose around her neck. He was gentle, slow, and gave her the most pleasure she had had from intercourse in a long time. She responded to him even more than she had forced herself to respond to the other guards. When he had climaxed, he didn’t get off for a while. She said, “Are you OK? Do you need help?”

He rose, smiled, and said, “No, I just was exhausted from that great fuck. I really liked it. You are a special cunt. You’ll be really popular.”

“Maybe you liked it because you were considerate and tried to make me like it.”

“Perhaps. In any case, I loved it. You are good. I look forward to future encounters with you.”

After he left, she thought, so do I. Then she wondered what the audience on the internet thought. Just before she dropped off to sleep again, she thought, 20 fucks. I must keep count.

Slave Prison, Chapter 11: Mimsy’s Misery

Mimsy looked at the tray of dinner. It was terrible. They hardly fed her at all. They had only taken her from this horrible cell to be examined and weighed and to walk on that awful treadmill. She hadn’t seen anyone she knew for a week. When she said something, the guard said that she was whining and to shut up. He changed the setting on her collar to shock her if she talked, so she hadn’t talked for three days. She knew Megan was in here somewhere, but she hadn’t seen her.

The doctor was watching her weight. She had lost fifteen pounds. Her skin was hanging looser. She didn’t pant as much after climbing the stairs. They were minor changes, but they seemed to encourage the doctor.

She ate the small meal. It didn’t satisfy her, but she knew it was as much as she was going to get. She put the tray back and laid on the bed. She reflected on James enslaving her and putting her in this awful place. She had gotten past the initial shock, and was working on getting past the denial. He had enslaved her and he had put her in here. Now she was trying to work on why.

It was apparent to her immediately that he was sick of her being fat and sick of not getting sex. He’d told her that himself, several times, and she got mad about it. That was probably a bad move, she thought. He definitely had the upper hand, and she hadn’t thought it through. She hadn’t realized how angry he was. She thought back about her behavior after Megan’s arrest, and realized that she had probably pushed him over the top with her whining. She also realized that begging for forgiveness and promising to do better wouldn’t work.

After another hour of crying, she regained her composure. She thought about what she could to to hurry the process of getting out of here. Her diet was set, so she couldn’t do anything about that. She could try harder on the exercise. Other than that, she had no control at all. It then hit her that maybe he wouldn’t want her back, that he had probably gotten a slave to take care of his needs, and that this might be where she stayed. Another hour of crying later, and she started thinking again. He hadn’t sold her. He hadn’t had her sent to a meat dealer or had her killed outright. He was spending money on her. Maybe he really did want her to reform. He had told her she needed the same improvements as Megan, plus weight loss and instruction in sex. She figured the improvements were to keep her from complaining, whining, overspending, and obstructing him. He had complained about that in the past, but she hadn’t seen this coming if she didn’t shape up. The weight loss was obvious. The instruction in sex? She knew how to do that. Perhaps he meant conditioning to keep her from resisting. Perhaps he meant new techniques, that she probably wouldn’t like. Until she could ask someone, she didn’t know what would happen.

She also wondered how long it would take for them to decide when was ready. Megan would be here for a year. Maybe he would take them both back at the same time. The thought of a year in here horrified her, but the thought that she would never leave, as the slave who had put her in her cell the first day had suggested, was even worse.

The weighty thoughts, the day’s exercise, and the hunger she felt had exhausted her. She fell asleep before the dinner tray was collected.

Slave Prison, Chapter 12: Psychologist

The prison psychologist was reviewing files on newer prisoners. The young woman who was in here for drunk driving posed no new problem. She was a standard case of young woman that hadn’t had enough discipline and was running around flouting the law. Punishment level four for a year would most likely deal with most of her societal problems. He should interview her and get a baseline set of tests soon so that he would have a basis of comparison at six months.

The slave who was sent in to reduce her weight and stop bitching was a more difficult case. He noted with interest that she was the drunk driver’s mother. He wondered if sending his daughter to prison pushed the husband over the edge into sending his wife here, or her behavior in response to the imprisonment of the daughter pushed him into it. He should send an email and ask; it was likely to be a combination of the two, he thought. He reviewed the intake questionnaire, and saw that the husband and father wanted reports and questions if they would help in the reformation of the prisoners. Good; that would help. He looked at the profile papers again and tried to decide on a course of treatment. Middle-aged women who bitched all the time, especially those that were fat, were difficult to turn around. They were set in their ways. The psychologist decided that unless his initial interview with her and tests showed a different path, he would use classical punishment avoidance — he would let her suffer while knowing that she was her husband’s slave and any relapse outside the prison walls would get her sent back here — if she was lucky. He wondered if she was susceptible to hypnosis. A lot of the fat ones were. Walking around in her mind would be a lot of fun, and probably effective. He liked to please the men who sent women his way. He had tried for years in private practice to help women, before the WSA. It usually didn’t work. After the WSA, especially in here, he had a lot more leverage on them, and the results were much better. It made him feel good when his professional efforts brought about happiness for the men who sent him errant slaves.

James Morrison woke up in his king size bed, all alone. After he had stuck Mimsy in Iron Rod Prison along with Megan, he had all kinds of room. He wasn’t getting any sex in the bed, but he hadn’t gotten any in that bed for a long time. After he had breakfast, he went to his computer and accessed the prison web site. He looked for teaser pictures that included his wife or daughter. He wasn’t surprised to find no pictures of his wife, but he did find pictures of his daughter. The pictures included her in her cell, her in a pillory, her in a tiny cage, her wearing a noose around her neck, and some that looked posed and professionally taken. He went to the members section and entered using the code that they had given him with his receipt for two slaves. He searched for her prison number and found videos and pictures. He used a convenience feature that let him download everything with her in it, then watched some of the video. The sequence of her getting into the cage caught his interest more than the gallows sequence, but he could see the interest in both. He finally searched for Mimsy’s prison number and found only a few still pictures. He understood that. All he wanted was to see that she was alive and reasonably well, and hopefully, over the next few months, getting slimmer.

He went to his job and spent the day doing the usual. He was thinking from time to time about getting a housekeeper, and went on to think about getting a sex slave. He wasn’t sure that they should be the same slave, but he figured he could start with one and see how it worked out. He was trying to decide how to go about it. He could go to a slave dealer and believe them about a slave’s cooking and cleaning abilities. He realized then that he would have to believe anyone he bought from. He went to get a cup of coffee for himself. As he stood in the break room he looked out the window and watched the rain while he sipped coffee. One of his coworkers came in for coffee and said, “You look lost in thought.”

“I’m thinking of getting a housekeeper. I just don’t know where to buy one.”

“I bought mine from a slave training company. They taught her cleaning, cooking, and sex. I’d recommend the same to you, except that Bill Williamson down in accounting is selling his daughter.”

“The gorgeous little blond with the big tits and tight ass? That daughter? Why would he do that?”

“I hear he agrees with that Committee for Universal Enslavement. At least he’s selling her himself to get her a good owner.”

“I’ll head right down there to talk to him.”

“What will Mimsy say about you buying a slave?”

He replied, “Nothing,” without explaining.

Shortly after that, he was in Bill Williamson’s office. “I understand that you are looking to sell something.”

“Yes, I am. You are looking for a slave?”

“A housekeeper and a sex slave. You are selling your daughter?”

“Only to someone who won’t kill or brutalize her.”

“I can live with that. Do you object to whipping?”

“No, that’s fine. I sent her to a slave school to get instruction on cooking, cleaning, and sex. I’m sure you will be delighted with her.”

“How much are you asking?”

“She’s beautiful, smart, and well trained, so I’m asking $4000.”

“Sold.”

“OK, let’s meet at a slaver’s office at lunch time and we’ll do the transfer. I’ll have her naked and chained for you to pick up after work.”

“Why would you do that? She’ll need clothing for the winter, and she will be happier and more productive if she has her personal items. Do you have any use for her clothing or personal stuff?”

“No, not really. I just always thought that slaves were sold nude.”

“I’d just as soon get her with her clothing and the things she needs to take care of herself and keep herself happy. Books, music, mementos, that kind of thing.”

“OK. That’s fine. It actually makes me happier to sell her that way. It looks like I’m selling her to a good home. What will your wife have to say about having her there?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s odd.”

“Not really. You may have heard that my daughter got caught driving under the influence. In order to keep her out of the county slave auction, and probably being sent to a meat dealer, I took her voluntary enslavement and got a deal from the prosecutor and court to send her to a slave prison for a year. Mimsy has been a pain for a few years and was coming apart over the whole thing, so I arranged for two women to go into the slave prison at the same time, both to get straightened out. That leaves me looking for a cook, housekeeper, and sex slave. By the way, I’d appreciate you not telling anyone about Mimsy.”

“Of course. I understand completely. I enslaved my wife a long time ago, and I haven’t had the problems that a lot of men have. I waited until my daughter graduated from high school before enslaving her, although there was the risk of losing her to a boyfriend.”

“That makes me curious. You said she’s smart, but you didn’t send her to college?”

“I agree with the universal enslavement people. She could go to college, but she can do that as a slave, if you want her to.”

“I’ll think about it. Where should I meet you for the transfer?”

That evening, James drove to Williamson’s house. He rang the bell and was greeted by a woman he recognized as Williamson’s wife. “Welcome. You must be Mr. Morrison. I’m Alice Williamson, mother of Janice, who you’re here to pick up. I’m grateful that my husband found a good owner to sell her to. Please come in.”

James entered and followed her to the living room. Bill was sitting there. Janice was standing, wearing a nice dress and shoes, and handcuffed behind her back. Bill rose and shook James’s hand. “I have her ready for you. I just felt it was more proper to hand her over to you this way.”

“That’s fine. We’ll have to take them off for her to load her stuff into my car.”

“Sure. It’s just ceremonial.” Bill turned to his daughter and said, “Janice, this is Mr. Morrison, your new owner. You will obey him.”

She said, “Yes, father.” She seemed shy, but not as broken up about being sold as he figured she would be. She had probably been expecting it. She turned to James Morrison and said, “I am Janice, your new slave. I exist to make you happy.”

“I appreciate that. I’m sure you will do fine. Where is your stuff?”

“It is in the garage, sir. We can load it whenever you are ready.”

“I’m ready now.”

Bill unlocked his daughter’s cuffs and led her and James to the garage, where he opened the door. James stepped out to unlock the car and trunk. Janice picked up a box and put it in the trunk, then returned to the pile of boxes to get more. The boxes filled the trunk and the back seat. When they were all stowed away, she turned to James, clasped her hands behind her back, and looked downward as she said, “Master, I am done loading my boxes.”

“Good. Say goodbye to your father and get in the front seat. By the way, do you have a driver’s license?”

“Yes, sir, with a slave endorsement.” She turned to her father, who embraced her warmly. She walked to the car and got in the passenger’s seat.

Bill said, “Do you want the cuffs?”

“No, thanks, she doesn’t look dangerous. Is she likely to run away?”

“No, the training took care of that.”

“OK. It’s good doing business with you.” The men shook hands, and James got into the car and drove it away.

As he drove, James spoke to Janice. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“OK, I wanted to get a nice dinner. We’ll go out. Is there anything you like?”

“Anything you like, sir.”

“That isn’t an answer to the question. Is there any kind of cuisine you particularly like?”

“Sorry, sir. I like Mexican.”

“Good. So do I.” He drove towards a nice Mexican place that he remembered near Williamson’s house. “We will be around one another a lot, and I prefer a relaxed, comfortable relationship over a formal one. Please answer questions honestly. How do you feel about being sold?”

Janice sat quietly for a little while, with a funny look on her face. She was obviously weighing her answer, worried about what might come of her answer. She finally replied, “I wasn’t all that happy about it. I thought of myself as a human, not a slave, even though I knew what my father thought about females. I was hoping to have a life. I am happy that he sold me to someone who doesn’t plan to kill or brutalize me. Am I to be your sex slave?”

“Yes, I will be having sex with you. No, you will not be totally a sex slave. You will be my housekeeper and cook. Depending on how things work, you may be more than that. We’ll see what happens. For the moment, let’s enjoy dinner and try to get to know one another.”

“Yes, sir. I’d like that.”

Megan’s muscles were cramping. She had been inside the infernal little cage for hours, and the cage rocked with every movement she made. She had talked with her fellow prisoners when there was no guard or trusty present, but had learned little more. One by one, the others were removed from their cages, until she was left alone in the room, held tight in her tiny suspended cage. Finally a trusty brought in another prisoner. The trusty connected a chain to the prisoner’s collar, then removed her handcuffs. The trusty left, and the prisoner came over to Megan. “I’m to take care of your potty and food needs before they turn off the lights in here for the night.”

Megan said, “They told me I’d be in here for four hours!”

“Not any more. You’ll be in that cage all night. I don’t have a key for the cage. I’ll put a chamber pot under you and lower you until you are just above the pot. After that, I’ll clean you. When the trusty comes back with your food, she will unlock one wrist. I’ll stand by with the tray. When you are done, they’ll lock your wrist back up, get me out of here, and turn off the lights.” The prisoner went to the wall where the lift control was and lowered the cage to about two feet off the floor. After that, she picked up a chamber pot and put it below Megan’s bottom. “OK, go ahead.” Megan grimaced, but she needed to go, and she went. When all was done, the prisoner raised the cage until Megan’s bottom was easily accessible, then moved the chamber pot and wiped Megan. After that, she covered the pot, put it by the door, and lowered Megan so her head was near the prisoner’s waist. “Your food will be here shortly.”

Megan had been looking at her attendant and recognized her as the too-thin slave that she had seen chained to the tray pick-up cart. She still looked familiar somehow. It finally hit her — it was Andi Jolls, the movie star slave! She was thinner than she used to be, and looked stressed, but it was her. The look on Megan’s face must have registered with her, because she said, “Oh. You just figured it out.”

“What are you doing here? Even after you were enslaved, you were in movies.”

“I was. The first few did well. After that, my owner didn’t listen to me about which movies to skip. That’s how I stayed successful — staying away from the bad movies. After two bombs, that the critics said wasn’t my fault, by the way, my star had dimmed quite a bit. That’s when he finally started listening again. Finally, another movie came along that looked like it might succeed — a women-in-prison movie. It’s not as good as my previous stuff, but there wasn’t a lot to choose from. We worked with the producer and writer to improve it. We were going to start, but the schedule slipped because the director and some of the others were delayed by another movie taking more time than they thought. In the meantime, the producer got the bright idea that my performance might be enhanced if I actually knew what prison was like. This is the place they picked to give me that experience. I’ve heard that they may even make the movie here. In the meantime, I’m cuffed and chained all the time and they don’t give me enough to eat. At least they don’t whip me. A lot of the guards have made special efforts to fuck me. The night shift wakes me up for it. I’m a big draw on the web site, too, it appears, even though the web subscribers don’t seem to have figured out who I am. They didn’t do a set of studio shots of me, and they changed my hair. Someone will get it sooner or later, though. Only a few other prisoners have recognized me. Congratulations. Why are you here?”

Megan explained her status briefly. “So I’m here for a year for something that men get suspended licenses for. At least I didn’t end up as meat.”

Andi laughed. “That’s the way it goes now. Even free women don’t have many rights any more — they can be enslaved for almost anything, it seems. Anyway, I work at various jobs to see the prison and its workings. Right now, I’m feeding you before you spend the night in that awful thing. They are sold as short-term punishment devices, but I’ve heard that some owners keep slaves in them all the time that they aren’t being used. That would be worse than being in this prison.”

“It would be almost as bad as the punishment block.”

“I was in there for a week. I’ve been in the cage for eight hours. The cage is worse.”

A trusty walked into the room with a tray. “OK, cunt 4391, here’s cunt 4566’s dinner. Get it into her. I’ll be back to retrieve you in about half an hour.” She handed the tray to Andi, unlocked Megan’s right wrist from her belly chains, and left.

“Also, in here I’m cunt 4391. Even as a slave, outside of here I had a nice life. My owner let me go to parties, restaurants, plays, and lots of other things. Here I’m just a cunt.”

“So am I.”

“True. Let’s get you fed.” Andi handed Megan a small amount of food at a time, and Megan managed to get it into her mouth. They were just finished when the trusty came back.

“OK, cunt 4391, put the tray by the chamber pot.” While Andi did that, the trusty locked Megan’s wrist back to the belly chain, then retrieved something from a wall cabinet and raised Megan’s cage back up to its previous height. She gave the object to Andi and said, “Put it in.”

Andi walked to Megan. She had put the object in her mouth, and Megan saw that it was a dildo of some kind. Andi got it wet, then removed it and got under Megan. “Sorry, I have to do this.” She slowly slid it into Megan, who was glad that Andi had wet it first. When it was all the way in, the trusty said, “Turn it on.” The dildo began to thrum.

The trusty cuffed Andi in front, put a leash on her, and unlocked the chain that had kept her in the room. “Pick up the chamber pot and wait outside the door.” Andi did so.

The trusty said, “I know you were supposed to be out of there, but the web comments were running to keeping you in it over night. It counts a long way toward the level four punishment for the week, so it’s not as bad as it seems.” The trusty left the room after turning out most of the lights. When the door closed, Megan felt very alone. At least the previous night she had slept on a mattress with a blanket and hadn’t had her hands chained. Tonight she was chained and confined within a tiny, uncomfortable cage with a dildo vibrating inside her. She realized that she was silently weeping. After a while, she shifted positions to find one as comfortable as possible, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep.

Linda and Megan spoke for a while longer, but stopped when a trustee walked down the corridor. The trustee stopped at Megan’s cell and said, “Show me the front of your collar.” Megan leaned forward and raised her chin. “Good. I’m here to take you, cunt 4566, on your orientation.” She pressed a button on her bracelet and spoke into it. Shortly after that, the cell lock clocked and the trustee slid the door open. The trustee, took the belly chains and shackles from the hook outside the cell and came in. As she put the belly chains around Megan, she said, “I’m cunt 3905. I am to show you the major parts of the prison that you may encounter, explain what you will do in those parts, or what will be done to you there, and introduce you to various common punishments. When I am done with that, I will answer questions.” Cunt 3905 locked the cuffs around Megan’s wrists and bent down to put on the shackles. When that was done, she unlocked the chain that had been locked to Megan’s collar the night before, put a leash on Megan, and led her out. Cunt 3905 led her to the left, the direction that Linda’s voice had come from. As Megan passed the next cell door, she looked in and saw a short, black-haired beauty wearing a leather chastity belt, with her wrists cuffed to the sides. They exchanged nods as Megan was led away.

After several flights of stairs and various corridors, Megan was lost, but that didn’t bother her. It was plain she wasn’t going to be let run around this place on her own. She started to recognize some features of the area she had been led into. Cunt 3905 said, “This is punishment area 1. There are rooms with pillories,” pointing into a room that looked familiar. “There are rooms with whipping posts.” She paused at another door and let Megan take in the sight of ten posts in the room, three of them with slaves hanging by their wrists from the top of the pole. All three of them had whip stripes. Cunt 3905 led Megan on. “Other rooms have other toys.” She led Megan on, pausing briefly at several other doors. In one, Megan saw tiny cages with women bent into fetal positions and crammed inside. In another, there were women hanging by wrists or ankles from hoists. Another room had tanks of water, some with glass fronts. Megan didn’t understand what they were for until she saw one glass-front tank with a woman completely submerged inside, with a chain to her collar holding her head below the surface. She had a small tube in her mouth that supplied air, but the tube was small and so short that she had to strain to keep in in her mouth. Her hands and feet were cuffed. Cunt 3905 saw the look of horror on Megan’s face and said, “No one has died in any of these things. They just make you miserable. For hours.” Megan was led on with a jerk of the leash.

After several more punishment rooms, cunt 3905 led Megan into a large, open, high-ceiling chamber. At the other end of the room was the gallows that Linda had mentioned. Cunt 3905 led Mega up to the stairs to the platform and said, “Look at this. Look at it closely. Remember that it is here. There is also an electric chair and a gas chamber. If your owner is dissatisfied at your progress at anything he has ordered that you be subjected to or be trained in, this is one possible result.” They stood there for several minutes. Megan swallowed hard several times, overwhelmed by the sight and knowing that there was nothing stopping them from using it on her.

Cunt 3905 then led Megan up the 13 steps to the platform and over to the trap door and noose. She put Megan on the trap door and put the noose around her neck. It drooped from her neck, and would not have kept her on the trap door, but cunt 3905 attached Megan’s shackle chain to a hook on the trap door. “I’ll leave you to stand here for a while. Enjoy.” The trustee walked away, leaving Megan alone in the gallows room.

Megan’s skin itched from the touch of the rough, oily rope. Her tormentor had tightened it around her neck so there was no chance of her getting it off. She stood still, not wanting to irritate her skin by letting the noose move. As time passed, she couldn’t gauge its passing. Infrequently, a guard or trustee led a prisoner through the room. They all stopped to look at Megan standing on the platform. The itch from the noose was getting worse.

A guard led another prisoner into the room. He stopped to look at Megan, too, then led his prisoner up the steps and stopped in front of Megan. “I always like to stop and study a cunt in a noose. What’s your number, cunt?”

“I’m cunt 4566, sir.” She added the honorific because she didn’t know how to address the guard.

“You look like cunt 4567, without the fat. Are you related?”

Megan looked at him, puzzled. “I don’t know cunt 4567, sir.”

“Oh, well,” he said, dismissing the matter. He turned to the prisoner he was heading. “What do you think of this display?”

The prisoner looked at Megan and said, “It’s a very pretty display. You should take advantage of it.”

“Nope, sorry, not enough recharge time since I took advantage of you. I do think she needs something, though. Kneel and lick her.”

The prisoner knelt in front of Megan and immediately started to give Megan pleasure. It was a long, slow licking. It made her tremble. The noose moved as she reacted to the pleasure, adding a scratchy counterpoint to the pleasure. When Megan finally came, she let out a loud moan and shook more, which caused the noose to twist slightly, almost ending the pleasure. The guard lifted the kneeling prisoner to her feet and started off. “I’ll be looking you up, cunt 4566.” As he passed the lever that dropped the trap door, he reached out and pulled it. Megan nearly screamed. Nothing happened with the trap door, and the lever returned to its upright position. The guard didn’t look back or explain his action. It took several minutes for Megan to realize that the lever was for show and used just to torment women in her position.

She had no way to tell how long she had been on the platform when cunt 3905 finally returned, took the noose off, and unhooked her shackles from the floor. “Did you find that educational?” she asked.

“No. It was terrifying.”

“Good. Then it was educational.” She led Megan on through the prison. “This is the exercise area. Most owners want to keep their property in good shape while it is punished, so we bring cunts down here. Most use the treadmills,” she said, gesturing at a large number of treadmills, over half of which had chained women on them walking or running at various speeds. “Others use exercycles,” gesturing at a collection of exercise bikes also being used by chained women. “You won’t be exercising today.” Again she led Megan through the maze of corridors that made up the prison. “The cell block that you are in is one of the nicer ones. We are now in the oldest part of the prison, and the cells here are not as plush. The slaves in this section got put here as punishment for behavior in the prison.” Cunt 3905 led Megan up to a cell door and stopped. Megan looked in and saw a slave sitting on a bunk. Instead of concrete walls, the cell seemed to be made from rocks cemented together, with a rough floor that seemed to be wet. There was a musty, moldy smell, and there wasn’t a toilet in the cell. There was a chamber pot. The metal of the cell door and the bunk was rusty. Cunt 3905 looked at the prisoner within and said, “Tell this cunt why you are in this cell rather than the one you were first in.”

The prisoner said, not looking up, “I didn’t keep my cell clean, I resisted the trustees when they led me by my leash, and I lost control of my bowels during a whipping.”

“How long have you been down here?”

“A month. I’ve been told that my better attitude will get me back to a nicer cell in a week or so, after my next whipping.”

“Good. You have learned something by being here.” She led Megan on.

They entered an even darker, damper section of the prison. “This is the punishment block. The whole prison is for punishment, and that last cell block was for more punishment, but punishment for lesser offenses. Prisoners that attack guards or trustees, or who commit other serious acts, come here, to the cells used to punish the worst offenders in the women’s prison before the WSA.” The doors along this corridor were solid metal, not barred. Cunt 4905 spoke into her bracelet again and a nearby door clicked. The trustee opened the door and Megan looked into a dark cell. “There aren’t any lights in these cells. There are infrared cameras so the web subscribers can look at the prisoners, though.” Megan saw that the slave in the cell was chained by her collar and handcuffed. The chamber pot reeked. The prisoner was dirty and greasy. Cunt 4905 spoke to her. “How long have you been in here?”

“I don’t know. I can’t keep track of days.”

“I’ll help you out. You’ve been in here three months. How long has it been since you spoke to anyone?”

“I think it was a week ago, judging by the meals.”

“How often do you see light?”

“Only when the meal door is open, or they empty the chamber pot.”

“Have you been cuffed the whole time?”

“Yes, the whole time I have been in here. At least it is in front.”

Cunt 3905 backed out of the cell and closed it. She looked at Megan and said, “She attacked a guard. She will be in there another three months. She would have been out of the prison by now if she hadn’t been sent down here.”

Cunt 3905 led Megan on through other parts of the prison, showing her various punishment areas. They mostly had the same kinds of punishments in them, but each had something unique to it. The water tanks seemed to be punishment area 1’s mark of distinction. Punishment area 2 specialized in electrical punishments, such as shocks to the vagina. Punishment area 3 had several variants on spinning, such as being spun on an X-cross, spinning on the outside of a barrel, and being tied onto a water wheel and dragged under water for part of every revolution. Those scared her. After she had seen quite a bit, with considerable emphasis on punishment and suffering, she was placed into a bondage chair and secured into it. “Watch the video. It will explain the rules, the routines, and the expectations. It will play three times so that if you miss something you get another chance. I suggest you pay attention.” When the tape started, cunt 3905 left the room and locked the door behind her.

Megan sat and watched the video and learned about cell locking and unlocking procedures, chaining procedures, punishment device mounting procedures, visitation procedures, procedures for the guards using prisoners for sex, meal and tray procedures, procedures for reporting illness and other situations, prison discipline, prison punishments as opposed to punishments decreed by owners, and a lot of other procedures. The punishment device mounting and unmounting procedures were illustrated by video clips, as were the other procedures. The punishment procedures were done with better production values than the rest of the video and were quite extensive. Megan figured that they were taken from sales and promotional videos that were used to get business for the prison. The video showed punishments that she hadn’t been shown in the tour, such as one where the slave was mounted on a pole into her vagina or ass, then raised up so that only her toes touched the floor. That one made her shudder. The video went on to show procedures for hanging, electrocution, and gas chamber, which Megan really didn’t want to see. It also noted that there were procedures for drowning and other methods of execution that were infrequently used.

After the video had been shown three times, which Megan thought was a punishment by itself, cunt 3905 came back and unlocked her from the chair. “OK, now for the photo studio. He will have a lot of fun with you.” The next place that she took Megan to was, indeed, a photo studio. It had a lot of hi-tech camera equipment and several sets for photographs. One was a bed, another was an outdoor simulation, and another had some bondage devices such as pillories. The photographer looked at her and said, “Yes, this one will be interesting. Get her cleaned up.” Cunt 3905 led Megan to a side room that had a shower. She removed all of Megan’s chains except the collar. “Clean yourself good. Just because you’re not chained, don’t think you can get away. There are a dozen locked doors between you and the outside, your collar tells the security system where you are, and it will shock you if you aren’t where you are supposed to be. Attempted escape gets you put in the punishment block.” Megan had no illusions that just being unchained would let her get away. She showered, then used the blow drier in the room to dry her hair and make herself look presentable. She used the disposable razor in the shower to make herself smooth all over below the neck, as a sign on the wall told her. When she was done, cunt 3905 took her to a table in the studio and helped her apply makeup. When she was acceptably beautiful, cunt 3905 presented her to the photographer and stepped back to the wall.

The photographer had her get on the bed and take up various positions, some classic nudes, others splay-legged wide-open beaver shots. It seemed he wanted to suit all the various tastes. He cuffed her and took more pictures, gagged her and took more pictures, and stuck dildos into her and took even more pictures. When he was done with that set, he put her in the outdoor scene and took a lot of the pictures over again. He finally moved her to the pillory set and took a lot more pictures, many of which seemed to be gynecological studies. When he was done, he turned her back over to her warder and said, “Are you off at 5?”

Cunt 3905 said, “Yes, that’s the schedule.”

“OK, see you at home.” He took the camera and went to a computer desk to process the pictures.

As she was led from the photo studio, Megan asked, “Off at 5? See you at home?”

Cunt 3905 laughed. “I’m not a regular prisoner. When my husband was hired as the photographer here, the prison offered him housing. It turned out that any of-age female that lived in the housing had to be a slave. The offer was too good to pass up, though, and he had considered making me his slave wife before, so we decided that I would volunteer to be his slave. When he told the prison that I would do that, the prison administration asked if he was interested in having me work as a trustee. They pay him for my labor as a slave. If he wants to go somewhere, or I irritate him, he just sticks me in an empty cell. While I’m inside the prison, I’m cunt 3905. Outside, I’m his wife. It’s an OK life. The other guards don’t fuck me without his permission, which isn’t that big a hardship on them because of all the other targets they have in here. I get to dominate a lot of women, and I like that.”

Cunt 3905 led Megan to punishment area 1 and took her into the small-cage room. Megan sat and folded herself up to fit in the oddly-shaped cage, which was closed and locked. An electric winch raised it to six feet off the floor. Cunt 3905 said, “You’ll be in there four hours or so, then someone will take you back to your cell. I think your punishment schedule has you wearing the electric shock dildo tomorrow. Your first whipping is in two weeks from yesterday. See you tomorrow.” Cunt 3905 turned and left, leaving Megan and seven other prisoners in tiny cages, suspended from the ceiling of the room.

Megan, or cunt 4566, she thought sourly, was sleeping in her cell when the lights went on and a buzzer sounded. She got up, stretched, used the toilet, and sat back on her bunk. She wanted to be awake when her jailers came for her. She felt greasy and dirty, and thought morosely that she might feel that for a year. It wasn’t a thought that made her happier that the guards might keep her cleaner so she would be more attractive for sex. After a while, a cart came down the hallway with two slaves chained to it. It was full of trays. The slave on her side of the hall pushed one through the tray slot at the bottom of the barred door. Megan retrieved it and looked at the unappetizing food. She sighed and ate it. She didn’t know what to do with the tray, so she kept it with her. Half an hour or so later, another cart with two slaves chained to it came by. She saw them coming, so she caught on that they were collecting trays from the tray slots. She quickly put her tray at the slot, just in time for it to be collected. She watched the work slave, who wasn’t wearing a bracelet. The slave looked like she had been a beauty, but was now a little too lean, and the stressed look on her face detracted. She looked familiar, though, but Megan couldn’t place her. The slave didn’t look at her, and moved on after depositing the tray in the cart.

There wasn’t any other sign of life in the hall for a long time after that. Megan found it hard to gauge time in the prison cell. She thought of calling out to find out who her neighbors were, but realized that the volume restrictions on her voice that the collar made meant that she wouldn’t be heard very far. She went to the door and spoke at the loudest level that she hadn’t been shocked at and said, “Hello? Is there anyone alive near me?”

It was a few seconds before she heard a response. “Yes. I’m cunt 4023. I’ve been here a year. Are you new?”

“I got stuck in here yesterday. They told me I’m cunt 4566. Don’t you use your real name?”

“As far as the prison, the guards, and the trustees are concerned, cunt 4023 is my real name. Outside they called me Linda. Why are you here?”

“Outside they called me Megan. I was arrested for drunk driving and my father managed to get me out of going to court by having me volunteer for slavery and sending me here for a year.”

“There are a lot of slaves here for that. I was, apparently, a bitchy wife that needed correction. I’ve been getting it. What punishment level are you on?”

“Level four. It scares me, what little I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m on level four myself. It’s uncomfortable, but not torture. It depends on what things they do to make it level four. It can be a bunch of different things. Today I’m wearing a chastity belt that holds in an electric dildo that gives me a shock from time to time.” There was a pause and a soft grunt. “I just got one. It’s not extremely painful, usually. They come randomly and some are more powerful than others.”

“How often do they fuck you?”

“I usually get at least one a day. I heard that it’s expected of the guards, a part of their jobs. A lot of them are gay, but when they were hired they were told that it was a part of their job to fuck prisoners. A lot of them are bi, so they take it in stride. Others consider it a nuisance. A few just shrug and take us anally.”

“The last time a guy went up my butt I had a hard time walking for two days.”

“Well, you’ll get used to it. They know how to do it, they use lubricated condoms, and they usually use lube. They aren’t supposed to damage us without explicit instructions.”

“Explicit instructions?”

“Oh, they haven’t finished your orientation yet. They go over that. Punishment level four can hurt, but doesn’t involve bodily harm or modification. There are punishment levels that do. They’ll take you past the gallows as part of a tour. You’ll get a real good look at them. Sometimes they put you in a noose and have you stand there for an hour or two, just to let it sink in.”

“Gallows? They hang people here?”

“They hang slaves here. We’re not people, not any more. They only hang those that the owner orders hanged.”

Megan stood silently for a long time. She finally said, “Do you know how long you’ll be here?”

“My husband came here after I was in here six months. He told me that he’d take me back home when the prison psychologist said I wasn’t going to bitch any more. They’ve been working on me ever since. I don’t know.”

Megan asked, “Is it against the rules to talk?”

“Not unless we are too loud, or if we are ordered to be quiet. It’s best to be silent in a punishment or sex area.”

“I didn’t hear them come for you to put that punishment on you. No one has come for me.”

“The sound may have been covered by the tray collectors. I was taken to a punishment area to get the dildo. While I was there, they took a lot of pictures of me getting it inserted. They get put on a web site for paying customers. Someone will come for you sooner or later. Just enjoy being left alone.”

“Do they let us have books?”

“That’s up to your owner. Probably not at first.”

Mimsy was in a holding cell, gagged and cuffed behind her back, wearing shackles on her ankles. She didn’t believe that this was happening to her. She sat alone for several hours until a guard opened the cell, leashed her, and led her away to a medical room. On the way there she saw quite a few women, most of them chained, but a few not chained. Several rooms along the way held things that terrified her. One was full of pillories; there was girl in one of them that she thought might be Megan, from the curve of her butt. She was being fucked.

When Mimsy was in the medical room, they had her get on an examination table. A man in a white coat came in and examined her, and took a blood sample. He got on the phone, and Mimsy listened. “This one is a mess. No wonder her husband put her in here. Get her medical records; I don’t want her to get complications of an existing condition while she is our responsibility. Mark her records to put her on the minimum diet. We may have to get permission later on to do a skin reduction after she loses weight.” He hung up and told the attending slave, “Get a urine sample and then have her put in her cell.”

The slave got Mimsy up, got the urine sample, and then led her to a stairway and up two flights. Mimsy was winded and panted around the ball gag, struggling to get enough oxygen. The slave didn’t slow down. She led Mimsy to a desk where a guard sat. “Cunt 4567 here for cell assignment.”

The guard used a computer for a minute and said, “Cell 487. It’s open.” The slave led on down the hallway until they reached an open cell door, then motioned Mimsy to go in. The attending slave took a chain that hung from a wall and snapped it to Mimsy’s collar, then pulled a key from her bracelet and unlocked the shackles and handcuffs. She stepped outside to hang them on a hook in the corridor. She returned to remove Mimsy’s ball gag.

“Welcome to Iron Rod prison. I don’t know how long you will be here, or if you will ever leave, but while you are here you are cunt 4567. At least it’s an easy number to remember. I’m cunt 3905. I’ll be checking on you from time to time and help you adjust to imprisonment here. I haven’t received any instructions yet on your punishment schedule, but I know that you are to get the minimal diet and gradually-increasing exercise. Your collar is set to allow speech, but only quiet speech, about as loud as I am talking now. Speak louder than that and you will get a shock. The collar allows the guards to shock you anywhere you are. If you are not in the area the computer has been told you are to be in, you get shocks. If you manage to sneak out of the prison, you get a terrific shock. Obey all the guards immediately. This will be your cell. While you are in it, you will wear the neck chain and any other chains the guards put on you. I’ll leave you now. Someone will be here in the morning to give you breakfast and take you to any appointments. By the way, ‘appointment’ is a catch-all word here for anything from a visit to a medical appointment to a scheduled punishment to torture.” Without giving Mimsy a chance to ask a question, the slave left the cell and closed the cell door. Mimsy walked over to it and watched the retreating back of cunt 3905, then tried to open the door. It was locked. She was in here to stay, for now. The overhead light went out, leaving her in near darkness. She laid down on the cot in her cell and cried herself to sleep.

Megan was overwhelmed. She was in a concrete holding cell with steel bars, a concrete bench, a toilet, and nothing else. She looked up and saw one bare bulb and several rings set into the concrete. She knew what the rings were for, and she dreaded the next year. There was sporadic traffic in the corridor outside the cell. Guards went by towing women, and women walked by alone, always nude, and mostly chained. The occasional unchained women all wore a bracelet that the
others did not wear. Megan figured them for trustees, doing work in exchange for better treatment.

After a while, Megan noticed an older, overweight woman being hustled down the corridor. She didn’t look too closely.

Five minutes after that, a guard opened the cell door, grabbed her leash, and led her to a room with tables, chairs, and cabinets. He snapped her leash to a snap ring, then got on the phone. Shortly after that, the collar the jail had put on her made a clicking noise, and the guard returned to her. He carried another collar, a heavy-looking one made mainly from stainless steel. He removed the jail collar and put on the new collar. He pulled a remote from his pocket, pressed a few buttons, and it clicked. He fastened a chain to the collar with a padlock, keeping her in place, then he pushed other
buttons on the collar and she got a painful electric shock. He said, “That is a warning. All the guards can do that. If you go into an area that you are not allowed in, it will shock you worse than that. If you leave the prison boundaries, it will shock you a lot worse than that. We can locate you by the collar, we can call you with the collar, and we can set it to shock you if you talk or if you talk too loud. Behave yourself.” At that, he left. Shortly after that a slave with one of the bracelets came in. The slave removed Megan’s gag, then had her stand with her back to the wall. The slave then got
a camera and took facial, full-body, and profile photos.

“That is for the records. They’ll take the fancy pictures later.”

“Fancy pictures?” asked Megan.

“Yes, the porno pictures that they post on the pay web site. There will be smaller samples on the public web site. There are cameras all over the place in this prison, and they can be watched on the pay web site. Most of the cells have cameras. You will be well-watched while you are here, both by the staff and by the paying customers. The person that put you in here gets a subscription.”

Megan digested that slowly. It didn’t surprise her much. “What’s that bracelet?” she asked.

“That’s my badge of office. My owner gets a discount for letting me work, and I get a little more freedom and privileges. I still get my punishments.”

“What punishments do you get?”

“I’m at level three, so I get whipped every two weeks, chained at night, and I wear an electric punishment dildo every other day. This is my day off from that. You are at level four, so you’ll get the equivalent of that and at least one more, or maybe a rotating schedule of punishments. This place is hell, so get used to it.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Two years. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here. They started the conditioning that my owner ordered, so I expect when that is done, I’ll get out. I figure that if they reduce the punishments, it means the conditioning is taking and they are transitioning me for release. How long does your owner intend to keep you here?”

“The court said at least a year. I figure that he’ll get me out of here after that to save money.”

“Don’t be so sure. If the guards like using your body, they may offer to keep you for free for a while. If the guards don’t like using your body, your punishments will increase. I’d make them enjoy using you. More time is better than more whipping and shocks.”

Megan asked, “Why are you here? I was enslaved for drunk driving and my father got me sent here rather than the county slave auction.”

The other slave looked at her and said, “I’m here because my owner wanted me punished, trained, and conditioned. I’ll be here as long as he wants me here. If he ever lets me out, I’ll be the best slave I can possibly be, because I never want to come back here.” The slave looked at a piece of paper she had brought in with her, nodded, and got Megan’s gag. “Open up. The guard will be back to take you to your next appointment.” Megan opened up. The trustee inserted the gag, and buckled it tightly around her head, then left the room.

Megan stood there for several minutes, looking around at the few furnishings of the room. A guard came in and unlocked the padlock and attached a leash, then led her down the corridor to another, larger room. The room contained a lot of equipment, including cages of various sizes, pillories, stocks, whipping posts, and other things she didn’t recognize. She figured that she would become acquainted with them later. The guard led her to a pillory and snapped her leash to a snap hook on it. He pushed her to bend down and put her neck into the center hold, then used a snap hook to attach her collar to the lower board. He got out a key and released her wrists from the belly chains, and placed them on the lower board. When that was all done, he lowered the upper board and latched it shut. He tugged on her elbows to see if her hands would come out of the holes, and seemed to be satisfied that they would not.

Megan then felt her shackles being removed. Her feet were dragged far apart and fastened into what felt like wooden restraints. The guard slapped her on the butt, fondled a breast, then left. Megan noticed that the guards didn’t waste a lot of conversation on the prisoners.

Time passed very slowly in the pillory. She decided that this was her first punishment, and in a way it was. After a seemingly long time, she became aware that someone was behind her. She heard the rustling of clothing and some odd rubbing sounds, then felt a rubber-covered cock being pushed into her cunt. She had expected to be fucked, and here came the first one. It was a slow fuck; the man seemed to want to spend his time inside her. After a while, he sped up, but never did go fast. He finally stopped when he was in deep, and she felt him pulsing. He stood there for quite a while afterward, until he shrivelled and then withdrew. He felt her breasts from behind, then massaged her clit and touched her vaginal opening, which Megan realized was quite wet. A slap on the butt and he was gone. She hadn’t seen him. If her mother wasn’t with him, she would have suspected her father of doing it.

She stayed in the pillory after that, for hours it seemed, but actually only about an hour. At that point, more men started
coming by. All of them wore condoms, and none of the sex was done for her benefit. Some was fast, some was slow, and some was quite energetic. One man came around to her head, took out her gag, and presented his cock to
her mouth. She wasn’t able to do much of a blow job, but he seemed to know the restrictions. After she got him hard, he went behind her, put on a rubber, and entered her and used her roughly. After he was done he put her gag back in. There were eleven fuckings; she kept count. She intended to keep a count for the whole time she was here.

It appeared that a slap on the butt was the protocol after a fuck, at least for a woman in a pillory. Each of the men who used her slapped her butt hard after they were done with her box. After the eleventh fuck, the sex stopped, and it seemed like hours before anyone showed up. It was the first guard that had removed her from the holding cell. He opened the pillory, locked her hands back to the belly chains, and freed her collar from the pillory. He hooked up a leash
to her collar and said, “Follow me, cunt 4566. That’s you name now, by the way, cunt 4566.” He led her to another room that was outfitted as a medical examination room, where a slave with a bracelet chained her on an examination table. Another man came in and examined her orifices and her body in general. He took a blood sample. “When you
get her up, get a urine sample.” The man, who Megan, or cunt 4566, assumed to be a doctor, left the room. The slave unchained her from the table and had her squat over a toilet to collect a urine sample. After that, the slave left, and the guard bent her over the examining table to take her. She counted, to herself, “twelve.”

An hour later, they arrived at Iron Rod Prison. He pulled up at the entrance, where a guard approached them. James said, “I have a new resident for you.” Two, actually, he thought. He got out, got Megan out, with her nearly-hyperventilating mother following, and handed the leash to the guard. “Can you take charge of her while I park the car?”

“Of course. I’ll take her into the front office. Park in the visitor spot there and come on in.”

Shortly after that he joined them. An older man spoke to him. “I take it you are James Morrison, who spoke to Mr. Forbush at our office in town earlier?” At James’s affirmation, he continued, “Good to meet you. Please give me the prison copy of the court’s order, and I will get her registered.” James handed him the papers. The prison official looked the order over, compared the picture on the papers with Megan, and entered information into a computer system. James handed him another few sheets of paper and said, “Here are the payment arrangements.” The official took them, read, and nodded. He looked at all the sheets, then read the last page. It was a sheet of plain paper with just a few words — “Get Megan out of here and call in the slaver for Mimsy Morrison.”

The official nodded again at Mr. Morrison and turned to a guard. “Take this one to holding cell B. I’ll get a cell assigned after I get the paperwork finished. Have Mr. Sloan come in here.” The guard took up the leash and dragged the suddenly resisting Megan out, with Mimsy moaning and whining about the injustice of it all.

A minute later, another man came in the room carrying a Taser. He said, “Mimsy Morrison, you are under order of enslavement. I can use any amount of force necessary to carry out the enslavement. Take off your clothing.”

She shrieked. She yelled to her husband, “Tell him they can’t do that!”

James said, “They can and they will. Get your clothes off NOW.” She stopped yelling suddenly and looked at him in horror. “You did this!”

“Yes, I did. You will be a slave and you will be in this prison. You will get much the same treatment as Megan. You need the same improvements she does, along with weight loss and a lot of instruction in sex. Strip!”

She looked stunned. She didn’t make a move to remove her clothes. The slaver said, “Get an attendant, please.” Shortly after that, a slave came out into the room. She wasn’t chained, but she had fresh whip welts on her butt. At the slaver’s instructions, she started to remove Mimsy’s shirt, opening the buttons. Mimsy didn’t do anything for a bit, but then pushed the slave away and yelled, “You can’t do this!” The slaver fired the Taser, and Mimsy dropped. The slave immediately resumed her undressing. It was a struggle, with the inert, overweight Mimsy, but she got the clothes off. The slaver got out a catheter and none-too-gently used it to get a urine sample, then put a test strip into it. “She’s clean,” he reported, and then turned to Mr. Morrison. “Please fill this specimen cup and we will nearly be done.” While Mr. Morrison went to the rest room to do his chore, other slaves arrived. They put a collar around Mimsy’s neck and handcuffed her behind her back. The prison official said, “She was belligerant. Put some leg irons on too.” The slaves immediately retrieved shackles and applied them. When he returned from the rest room, she was chained and beginning to come out of the aftermath of the Taser.

“Gag her,” he said, and at the prison official’s nod, the slaves did that. As soon as they had her on her feet, they hustled her off.

“Thank you for the efficient service,” said Mr. Morrison to the slaver and the prison offical. The slaver took the specimen cup, dipped a test strip into it, and declared Mr. Morrison clean as well. The slaver signed some papers, gave them to Mr. Morrison, and said, “Thank you for your business. You paid in advance, so we are all done here.” He shook Mr. Morrison’s hand and left.

The prison official said, “That was fun. This place is far enough out of town that we don’t get many conversions at the prison. We need to finish the enrollment papers for both the slaves.” He placed several sheets of paper on a nearby counter, and Mr. Morrison filled in the required information. The official copied the enslavement papers for both women. When all was signed, the official said, “That leaves only the custody and care instructions. Your daughter is to be held at punishment level four. Do you have any preferences on the punishments?”

“What are the choices?”

“There are a lot. If the owner doesn’t specify the punishments, we rotate through pillories, whippings, electric torture, usually to the vagina, strict immobilization, pony cart service, and some other things that we dream up from time to time. The whippings are every two weeks, unless behavior requires more frequent whipping.”

“I’ll leave it to you.”

“Also, we offer a small discount if the slave is sexually available to the staff.”

“Certainly, as long as they use a condom.”

“We always do, as a matter of policy, for vaginal and anal sex, but not oral.”

“That’s fine. The same goes for my wife, in case anyone wants to try her.”

“And the punishment level for your wife?”

“She might have a hard time keeping up with what Megan can take. Let’s start at level two and work up to four.”

“Of course. Do you have any other instructions?”

“Yes. Leave Megan gagged and put her in a pillory with her legs spread wide. I’d like to give her a going-away present.”
The official smiled and said, “She’ll probably stay that way for a while as the staff takes advantage of the situation.”

“That’s good. The sooner she gets the idea that life is different now, the better.”

James Morrison, the man who had the women problems, stopped at his lawyer’s office. His daughter and wife were already there, speaking with the attorney. “Hello, James, come on in. We’ve been going over the details. The prosecutor has agreed to the imprisonment, as long as it lasts at least a year and is at punishment level four or greater.”

“That’s good. I just spoke with the prison company and we are set to go. We need the papers on her and the judge’s order for the imprisonment for the prison to do its job.”

“We’ll have them in an hour. You need to take Megan to a slaver and have her converted, then meet me at the judge’s chambers at 2, and we’ll get it all taken care of. Megan will have to be nude when she enters the chambers to signify her slavery.”

Megan, the object of the discussion, was a dark-haired beauty with a surly expression who was sitting in a comfortable armchair looking uncomfortable. The discomfort was due to the belly chains holding her wrists to her sides and the ball gag in her mouth, and perhaps partly due to the shackles on her ankles. She also wore an electronic collar, bright red, with “Property of The County Jail” written on it.

Mimsy, her mother and James’s wife, was sitting in another chair listening to the discussion. She broke in, “Punishment level four? A year in a prison? Megan can’t do that! What is this punishment level four? And why do we have to chain her? She got bail!”

The attorney patiently explained. “You have to chain her because that was part of the bail. Unchained bail would have been a lot more expensive, and probably wouldn’t have been granted. At least she can wear clothing and doesn’t require whippings. Punishment level four isn’t too bad. Level one is country-club prison conditions. Level four would require a concrete prison cell, enforced nudity, being chained at least eight hours a day, and corporal punishment every day, but not extreme punishment.”

Mimsy looked horrified. “You can’t do that to Megan!”

James spoke up. “We’ve been through this. Unless we comply with the deal, the trial will take place, she will be convicted and judicially enslaved, and put up for auction. The buyers for judicially-enslaved women are meat dealers and torture-slave dealers. Anything that happened to her after that would be far worse than what will happen to her if we do it the way it is planned.” James was thinking, I’ll set you up for punishment level five, or maybe ten, whining bitch.

“James, you’d better get going on the enslavement. You have the key to the chains? Good. I’ll take Mimsy with me.” James and the lawyer had talked about this previously. If mother went with daughter to the slaver, it would probably never get done while she interfered. James nodded, grabbed the leash attached to the collar, and led Megan out of the attorney’s office. They had already signed and notarized the voluntary enslavement forms, so it would be a quick process to finish the enslavement. He buckled her into the car and drove to the slaver office that the attorney had suggested.

He led Megan into the office. There were naked slaves wearing ball gags, handcuffs, and leashes fastened around the lobby, and naked slaves at intake desks. One of them saw their entry and said, “Welcome to Lilly’s. I can help you here.” James walked over to the desk and sat, and snapped the loop of the leash into a snap hook on the desk.

“I have a volunteer form for her here.” He passed it over to the slaving slave, who read it carefully. She said, “It seems to be in order. Do you have her identification?” He passed over his daughter’s driver’s license. “One thing left to do — the drug test. Do you want to unchain her?”

“I can’t unchain her — it’s part of her bail. She has to be chained like this or by a chain to her collar with the key to the locks outside the reach of the collar chain. I also need to get her nude before the court hearing. If you could arrange to have her chained by her collar, she could get her clothes off and then give the urine sample, and we could re-chain her.” He heard Megan whine about being nude and chained up again, but he ignored it.

The slave replied, “Of course, sir. I’ll have an attendant take care of it.” She pressed a button on the phone on the desk, and a slave stepped out from an alcove and stood by the seated slave.

“We have a chain-bail situation. Take her to the slave toilet area and lock the holding chain to her collar and hang the key on the hook on the other side of the room. Unlock the other chains and have her undress and give a urine sample. Put the belly chains and ankle chains back on and bring her back here.” She turned to Mr. Morrison and asked, “Are they standard handcuff keys?”

He said, “I don’t know. Here’s the key the bail agent gave me.” He handed it over to the attendant, who took it, unfastened the leash from the desk, and led Megan off through a door into the back.

He waited until Megan was gone and said, “I have another slave matter to deal with. This slave-to-be is going to Iron Rod Prison to be punished for drunk driving. I’m putting my wife, her mother, in there too. I need to have her enslaved, but I want it done at the prison. I looked at the list of associated slavers for Iron Rod, and this company was on it. Can you deal with that for me?”

“Of course, sir. If we fill in the husband-enslavement papers now, we can have it all prepared and have a slaver meet you at the prison office.” She produced the required forms, and he provided the necessary information. As they were finishing up, the attendant slave came back with the urine sample in a sealed cup and a test strip in another cup. The desk slave looked at it and said, “She’s clean.” The desk slave turned to her computer and entered some more information, then signed the papers that had been prepared for Megan and stamped them. “Sir, Megan is now a slave, owned by you. The attendant will bring her out shortly.”

Mr. Morrison rose when Megan was presented to him, took her leash, the bag containing her clothing, and they key to her chains. He looked his daughter over. She was easy on the eyes, not a classic beauty, but with the right curves and a splendid shape. She blushed as her looked at her. “Get used to it, Megan. This is your life now.”

Megan’s eyes took on a look of alarm. She had assumed that after her prison time she would be freed, but her father’s words had scared her. He didn’t elaborate.

He put her back in the car and pocketed the key. He put the clothes in the trunk, then drove to the courthouse. He led Megan into the courthouse from the parking lot, looked at some papers he had, and got the location of the room he was to take her to. He looked at his watch and saw that he was on time.

A few minutes later he reached the door he was seeking and led Megan in. His lawyer and wife were already there. He handed the enslavement papers to the lawyer, who accepted them and looked them over. He nodded in approval. “This is fine. We’ll get this over with quickly.” While this was going on, Mimsy was fluttering around her daughter, distraught about her nude, chained state. Even Megan was beginning to get tired of it. The lawyer finally spoke to her. “When the judge gets here, you must not interfere. It would be best if you sat still and didn’t speak at all. We are getting a reasonably good deal here, and if we irritate the judge in any way, he could make it a lot worse.” Mimsy finally stopped twittering and sat down. The lawyer turned to Megan. “Your agreement with the current terms was recorded earlier, and your consent to it was sealed with your enslavement. Your father has all the authority here. The judge may ask you if you agree with the final terms. Just nod. You will not be sitting. Don’t make any noise at all. Cast your eyes low and stand just behind your father’s chair.” She nodded her understanding and took her position, just in time for the judge’s entry.

The judge shook the lawyer’s hand. They were obviously old friends. The lawyer made introductions. “Judge, this is Mr. Morrison, the defenant’s father, and her mother, Mimsy. This is the defendant, Megan.” The judge shook Mr. Morrison’s hand and sat dow, followed by the lawyer and Mr. Morrison.

“I reviewed the agreement and it is acceptable. The defendant is enslaved and put in a slave prison for a year at punishment level four. Which prison are you taking her to?”

Mr. Morrison replied, “Iron Rod, your honor.”

“That’s good. Give them the prison copy of the order and they will notify us of receipt and punishment.” He looked through the papers he already had on his desk, then asked the lawyer, “Do you have the enslavement papers?” The lawyer passed them to the judge, who glanced at them and nodded. “Good. I’ll copy the information here onto the final order and sign it. The clerk will make the necessary copies and scan the case documents into the electronic filing system, then give you the final order papers and the papers for the prison.” He wrote a few things, scrawled a signature, and stood. “Here you go,” he said, handing the sheaf of paper to the lawyer. “Take these to the clerk and she’ll get everything sorted out. I have to go.” He looked at Megan. “Young lady, or should I just say slave, you are lucky to have parents that will go to the trouble and expense to save you. You may not like being sent to Iron Rod for a year, but it is a lot better than what could happen to you.” He turned and left.

The lawyer herded them out of the room and into an office with a sign on the door reading “Clerk.” He handed the prim older woman the papers, and she silently scanned them into a computer, entered classification and index numbers onto them, and printed copies for the lawyer, the father, and the prison. “We are done here.”

The lawyer walked with them out of the building. By Mr. Morrison’s car, he said, “Well, it’s all over but the shouting. Are you taking her to Iron Rod now?”

“Yes, immediately. Her year doesn’t start until she is in the prison.”

The lawyer turned to Megan and said, “I hope you use this time to get your head straight. A lot of girls in your position die.” He strode off, leaving them standing with Megan silently weeping and Mimsy bawling. James herded them into the car, rolling his eyes.