Life at hard labor
The next morning I went to the Central Court House to attend the trial of
Professor Pauline Gomez. The heat was particularly oppressive, so I parked in
the underground garage reserved for prisoner transport. By ten it was already
102 degrees. Gomez was scheduled for eleven in Judge Varz's court on the third
floor. He was known for handing down stiff sentences, especial in cases
involving female rebel activities. To these sentences he also added specific
guidelines for their incarceration. In another court a rebel might receive 10
years with half spent doing community work, but he dictated the harshest
sentences of maximum length. Most females accused of rebel connections were
assigned to his court. Even a small crime like associating with suspected
rebels would earn a woman ten years in prison. Ninety-five percent of those on
trial for rebel related activity were found guilty; of those more then half got
life sentences. Most of those went to either hard labor camps or after a
convenient loss of paper work ended up being 'sold' to private individuals. A
slave trade was never mentioned, the term was 'long lease work assignment', know
as LLWA.
On my way I looked in on the prisoner holding area just off the main courtroom.
It was a small narrow room, were prisoners waited for their trials. A dirty
frosted window at the end let in some light via it's set of thick bars. From
rings bolted along two walls hung neck shackles, large bands of steel on short
chains. Half dozen frightened prisoners waited there for their trials to begin,
each stood, tightly secured by the neck shackles many struggling on tiptoe,
their wrists cuffed at their backs. Most wore the dirty white prison uniform;
rough sleeveless burlap with collar to hem buttons, coming to just below the
knee. At the far end the guard was tending to a well-dressed female. Looking to
be in her late forties she stood stiffly in high heels, blouse and knee length
blue skirt. Sweat stained the armpits of her pale blue blouse her moist oval
face an expression of humiliation and apprehension as her wide eyes darted from
prisoner to prisoner. The guard tested her wrist shackles to make sure they were
tight behind her, and then her neck shackle, shortening it by one link so it bit
into her neck forcing her up on her toes. She winced. He then slowly started to
unbutton her blouse, one by one, till it was open to the waist. 'Noooo nooooo,
please nooooo', she moaned softly, then froze as he pulled her blouse fully open
and reached behind her, unsnapping her bra. In an instant a red blush came over
her face, as her eyes filled with tears of shame. With a small pocketknife he
quickly cut her bra straps letting it fall to the floor. She gasped as her large
loose breasts, now shamelessly exposed flopped on her chest. Several engorged
veins throbbed just under the skin of her pale tits. Quickly she learned that
struggling only tightened her neck shackle. Her chest heaved up and down with
heavy breaths of anxiety. The guard laughed, having seen this many times before,
and started to rub her thick pink nipples. Soon they stood erect, surrounded by
equally excited rose aureole. He leaned close saying, 'any trouble bitch and
your skirt comes off, or would you prefer I that way, I bet you like showing off
your cunt to the men at your office. Are you the type that sucks off the boss in
the back room to get promoted?'
The guard moved to the next prisoner, a young girl with short matted black hair,
dressed on the prison uniform. It was open completely down the front; open
enough to see that her body was streaked with dirt, sweat, and wide whip welts
on her small brown tits. Two others next to her were the same way. In spite of
the choking neck shackles they quietly twisted back and forth struggling to
release their arms from a double set of straps that bound their wrists and
elbows together behind their backs. The guard saw this, walking over to the
third one, a slim blond, and pulled her prison uniform off her shoulders down to
her bound wrists. Now naked she stopped struggling. Her body was covered with
thin raised welts, from a recent caning. Two large rings hung from her little
labia. The slit of her hairless pussy was a raw red. They were from the youth
prison. Next to her was Professor Pauline Gomez.
The professor was clothed in a short version of the prison uniform. It came to
mid thigh, exposing her firm full thighs. Though buttoned the uniform was a
size too small. The openings between the buttons revealed that she was naked
underneath. Her face was flushed with sweat, but she stood proudly, with her
chest high, looking straightforward. This was to be her day in court. The last
one in line was a tall black female, her neck shackle loose enough to allow her
to hang her shaved head. Looking to be in her late twenties she seemed relaxed
in a double set of chains. Thickly muscled with no sign of fat, I could tell
that she was a long time prisoner. I remembered a notice about a black female
with just a few months left of a five-year sentence that had tried to escape.
She had been assigned to mine work, one of the hardest types of labor and the
most brutal, having gotten away, when her prison transport van collided with a
truck. She made it only a short distance before they caught her. It would be
interesting to see what sentence the judge pronounced. I expected it would be
severe, life in a punishment unit.
Down the hall the courtroom was already filled with spectators, many of them
university students. I was lucky to get a seat. Promptly at eleven the Judge
entered the room, everyone stood till he was seated behind a high-carved wood
podium. As he ordered the guard to bring in the prisoner all eyes turned to the
side door.
With a guard on each side of her Gomez entered the room. She moved slowly, her
arms shackled behind her with a chain to her ankle cuffs, rattling with every
step of her feet bare. The chain was so short she had to crouch down some to
walk. Her dirty prison uniform has a few buttons open midway down revealing the
white curve of her large belly. Each nipple showed a clear outline against the
tight uniform. She sat down at the defendant's table trying not to reveal any
more of her thighs then necessary. Her short dark hair though matted was combed
back. A few welts showed on her arms, but other wise she looked clam and
collected for a woman who had spent almost a week under hard interrogation,
enduring both the whip and cock. The spectators whispered among themselves,
making rude comments about Gomez's appearance. A court officer proceeded to read
off the charges. They included recruiting female students for the outlawed rebel
movement, writing anti-government newspaper articles, and passing money and
information to the rebels.
'How do you plead Professor Gomez?' the judge asked. 'Guilty' said her court
appointed lawyer. Gomez wriggled in her chains. The young women behind me
gasped. Gomez looked uncomfortable, her fingers tightly gripping her wrist
chains. 'Do you want to address the court?' asked the Judge. 'Yes' she said.
'Stand', he ordered. Gomez stood, as best she could in the chains, 'Thank you
Sir! My lawyer as advised me to plead guilty and throw myself at the mercy of
the court. I regret my support of the rebel cause. I ask that the court grant me
probation so may go back to the university.' 'You will remain standing, Ms.
Gomez.' He said. She blushed deeply. After a long minute the Judge continued.
'I find you guilty of serious crimes, crimes in which you abused your position
at the University, influenced young women to take up a cause against the
government, sending them to train in the jungle on their summer vacations, and
eventually join the rebels there, as well as undermine the law in the cities.
For this we will make an example of you starting with a sentence of life at hard
labor. You will be sent a training unit for one year then to a maximum-security
prison there you will be worked in the fields and mines at the hardest labor.
Visitors will be welcome to view you at labor. We need to make an example of you
to show what happens when professors lead our youth down the wrong path. During
your first year you will be transported to the University for students to see
how the state deals with those who support rebel causes. I will be submitting to
the prison board details on how you will be kept and worked. Your workday will
be no less than sixteen hours a day, seven days a week, there will be no days
off. No clothing of any kind will be allowed no matter what the weather, except
for heavy work boots. A full let of shackles are to be used at all times,
including, ankle, waist, wrist and neck. Guards will be free to use the lash and
electric prod as needed. Unless you are working your wrists will be cuffed
behind you at all times. For minor discipline the whipping post with no less
than thirty lashes shall be administered, half of them on your bare breasts.
More serious discipline will be solitary confinement up to three months with
punishment clampings, chainings, whippings, etc. There will be not limits on
sweatbox and pit punishments. Transport between facilities will use chains and
a locked transport box, no food or water. All body hair is to be removed,
including head and eye brows, the warden may change is rule as he sees fit. You
will be housed in a strip cell, with no bed or toilet. All toilet functions will
be performed within full view of a guard. Strict chain downs will be used at
night in the cell. Total darkness, or full hoods and ring gags are recommended
to the warden.'
'Bathing will not be allowed, though you may be hosed down as needed, in front
of visitors. You will be naked in chains for visitors. Visitors will be allowed
to see you in a public area, in your cell, or while at labor. Breasts may be
bound during labor for additional discipline. Special sexual and punishment
visits can be arranged for visitors. Rings in nipples, nose, labia and clit hood
are to be inserted after your initial interrogation period. For visitors your
labia rings will be held open with a small chain round your back to expose fully
clit and vaginal opening. Display and exhibition on other occasions will also be
with labia spread. Forced lactation will begin at six months, using the daily
nipple injection method.'
'The prisoner, at the discretion of the prison board may be whored, both in a
state brothel and on the streets. Service as a pain whore will be recommended,
for up to six months at a time, as will unlimited service to military troops.'
Gomez, gasped, suddenly standing up, knocking over her chair, and screamed that
her lawyer had told her she would get a light sentence if she pleaded guilty.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see one of the guards coming towards her,
but he tripped on the chair falling to the floor. Just then a young woman from
the visitor seats leaped over the low rail shouting, 'Long live the rebels, free
Gomez', and dove for the guards gun. She picked it up and fired a shot at the
Judge who had just ducked behind his podium. Every one froze when another shot,
this time from the Judge who came around the side of the podium and shot the
rebel female in the thigh. Two guards leaped on her, quickly dragging her out.
Professor Gomez was roughly placed back in her chair. The scuffle had opened all
the buttons on her prison uniform to the waist. Everyone could see her large
welted breasts and part of one nipple. Blushing and shocked she looked at the
floor, humiliated. Everyone started to whisper about what had just happened.
Judge Varz seemingly unshaken shouted for order and continued. 'As you can see
from this insane display rebels must be dealt with by the harshest means. I will
make a note in your record of this outburst, obvious of your own planning. You
will suffer greatly in prison Professor Gomez. I am going to take a personal
interest in your case! Court is adjourned Take the prisoner out '
I followed Gomez and her two guards out. On the way to the elevator we passed
the well-dressed woman from the holding room being taken to her trial. She was
sobbing, pleading 'please PLEASE cover my breasts I can't go to trial like this;
everyone from my office will be there! I am an office supervisor, what will they
think. Please nooooo.' Her guard just smiled.
At the elevator I joined Gomez and her guards for the ride down to the transport
area. A security van was already there, it's back doors open. The three steel
seats on each side had ankle, waist, and overhead wrist shackles along with a
thick hard rubber dildo mounted on the seat. Two rubber-hooded prisoner occupied
the inner seats. One was the thin blond from the holding room. She was now
naked; her thin toned athletic body secured tightly in chains. Her sentence
must have been a heavy one for this van was reserved for prisoners sentenced to
long stays in prison. Later I found out she had been a maid in the home of one
of the wealthiest families. When the wife found out her husband was having an
affair she arranged for a long prison sentence.
Gomez was stripped naked, waist, neck, and ankle shackled, then ball gagged and
hooded with only a nose hole open. One guard said to the other, 'The Judge wants
this one to get the full treatment', holding up a heavy rubber bra, with short
spikes covering the inside of each cup. Gomez started to struggle as the bra was
put on. The guard pulled a short electric prod off his belt, jammed it between
her butt cheeks and pushed the button. Gomez squealed under her gag, lurched
forward falling to her knees. Once the guards pulled her to her feet she moaned
but did not struggle as her big loose tits filled the spiked cups. 'Cinch her up
tight' the guard said, 'this one is going to learn some hard lessons'. Gomez
was put in the van, roughly seated over one of the dildos and forced down till
it fully penetrated her raw vagina. A little trickle of blood showed on of her
left tit where the flesh bulged out. With her arms chained straight up over her
head to the sidewall, the guard retightened her ankle shackles forcing her legs
wide. Unsnapping a round piece on her bra he pulled out each bruised nipple
clipped a spiked clamp to it, pulled it up sharply and secured it to a small
chain from the ceiling. Gomez tried to hold her chest up and out but the waist
and neck chains were too tight for much movement. I could hear her whine through
the ball gag. A drop of blood formed on each nipple mixing with sweat. He had
one more clamp in his hand; this one went on her clit, eliciting a muffled howl
from the former University professor. Sweat poured down her fleshy sides. The
doors of the van slammed shut.
'Where is she going?' I asked the guard. 'Camp 5 for interrogation, same place
as that rebel bitch who tried to shoot the Judge.' News travels fast, I thought.
A few months there and both of them will wish they never heard of the rebels.
The van drove off bouncing over the speed bump at the door of the garage.
Professor Pauline Gomez, age 48 was about to begin her new life. The days of
faculty parties and dinners at the University Club with new teachers was now
over. Her little Tudor style house next to the campus was already up for sale,
everything inside already sold. Gomez now owned nothing, the only thing she had
of value was her body. In some ways her large full breasts, notoriety, and
mature beauty would save her from a life in the mines but condemn her to
humiliating use and display.
