Chapter 10
Slave Prison
It has been almost six weeks since the Gomez trial when the Commander
dropped me off at a security outpost in the hills over looking the city. There
I got a helicopter ride to the new prisoner training facility, Solisa
Prison, located 160 miles inland. It had been in operation for only a few
months and from all reports was just what the joint military and prison
system needed, a place to train prisoners for jungle transport duty, troop
service, hard labor, and interrogations all in one location.
It was even hotter then usual, over 105 degrees with one hundred percent
humidity, but that was the tropics for you. At least the warden's second
floor office was air-conditioned. Its panelled walls gave it an old world
look, bookshelves along one wall, a large mahogany desk opposite. Behind the
desk on the wall hung a hand made bull whip, it's handle in the shape of
a phallus. He sat at his desk playing with two shiny clips. 'These really do
the job,' he said, 'all stainless steel, no chance of infection. The spike
in the center makes it stay on, no crushing the nipple. You should hear the
rebel bitches howl when these go on! I have one guard who uses it on clits
and take look at this,' he continued, pulling out a cone shaped piece of metal
from the desk, 'this is also stainless steel, we have it in three sizes, but
most of the time we use the large size. Once we get it inside the muscle the
asshole keeps it there no matter how they try to shit it out, and the wide base
keeps the butt cheeks apart so the guard can see it. The ring on the base is
for a chain, and that hole can be used to put a few quarts of our special
enema into her. Three quarts of that in and even the most stubborn ones are
submissive by morning. Here we use almost all chains, leather rots in this
climate. The prisoners are always dripping with sweat from head to toe, so
rubber cuffs can slip off. Besides chain, we use nylon straps, if a bitch is
to be suspended for long periods. The guards like to hang them by the wrists
for days at a time in the punishment cells. We don't want to tear them up so
they can't work, after all a prisoner is a valuable item. Very valuable, now
that we are, let's say renting them to outside parties! You would be
surprised how many of the local plantations use our prisoners for field
labor. Both the mines in the area rent prisoners, mostly the younger ones
who can take the work. We build them up so they are strong enough to do
full shifts in the mines the first day, that means 16 hours or more pulling
loaded 800 pound carts. Recently a few of the more remote logging
factories use them too, mostly for loading and unloading supplies, back
breaking work in this heat. We don't charge much at all, as it saves us the
cost of keeping them. Since the crack down at the universities and the
captures of two full rebel units in the jungle we have over sixty new
prisoners, all of them young and strong. All the plantations and mines need
to do is feed and house them and provide security. We insist they feed them
well, no starvation rations. Uniforms are up to them. Most use the labor in
private, controlled areas so clothing is not needed. As for housing they can
just be chained at night with one guard. We don't condone it but we know the
owners single out certain ones for their own pleasures. All the plantations
have special cells hidden deep below the estate houses or other buildings.
We don't put any length of time on these agreements. If a prisoner's
sentence is up and she has been leased out for labor we just leave her there
till the business does not need her anymore, and that can be years. Mostly
they want the younger ones, but the mines favor a mature female thinking she
can take the heat better and the grueling work. You should take a look at
their operation; they have almost replaced the expensive ore carts with ones
pulled by small teams of female prisoners. We like to send them the
university students and rebels, it give them a lesson in real labor.
Nothing like pulling a heavy ore cart twelve hours a day, naked and in harness
to open the eyes of these bitches!' he laughed, 'this is only prison that has
more solitary confinement cells than regular ones. Almost 60 percent of our
cells are solitary. We are not restrained by the rules governing other
prisons, as our population is mostly rebel types serving life sentences and
a few special prisoners. Currently there are 169 females here. This is a
total strip facility, all of the prisoners no matter what age are kept
totally naked at all times. We have ones in their late teens to over sixty
year old, all are kept in ankle, wrist, waist and neck chains, completely
naked. Talking to another prisoner is strictly forbidden. There are no
strict rules for discipline, it can be as severe are we want it. Each guard
carries a whip, some clamps, and an electric prod. They can be used as much
as guard wants. A supervisor reviews prisoners kept in solitary once every
three months, but there are no limits on their length of stay or what
punishment a female is forced to endure. Guards are allowed to select up to
three prisoners as their personal charges, to be kept in remote parts of the
prison under their sole supervision. You might ask one of the guards to show
you, as I don't interfere in that area. However our main thrust is training
for hard labor, both for the hauling of military cargo to jungle out posts and
for plantations and jungle factories and mines.'
I sipped on the iced beer looking out the window as he explained the new
security measures. Below me was a walled in courtyard, exposed to the full
tropical sun, empty except for a large vertical wooden post around which
knelt three deeply tanned prisoners. 'Want to see them?' said the warden. I
set my empty glass down on the marble coffee table and we both headed for
the door. At the bottom of the stairs on the main floor a steel security
door led into the courtyard. The warden looked into a small screen pushed
some numbers on a keypad and the door clicked open. 'The latest,' he said
proudly. A blast of hot wet air hit us as we stepped into the burning sun.
Walking over to the kneeling prisoners I looked up at the gray sixteen-foot
wall topped with double rolls of razor wire, no way out of here. This was a
high security prison built for rebel dissidents and special prisoners,
before they added the training facility. Many of them young university
students picked up in the last round of radical protests. Given the current
world situation they earned harsh sentences. They had been sent here to
suffer. Here the system demanded obedience and extracted it with harsh
penalties from their naked young bodies. A few of what were called
'special' prisoners were also housed here. Some had been the wives and
daughters of men who committed crimes, such as bank fraud and left the
country. A few mistresses of government officials also found themselves
here. Over a dozen mother and adult daughter combinations lived in the
prison, cast off of prominent husbands who had found a mistress more
suitable to their current existence than the burden of a spoiled wife and
daughter. Many of these pairs worked in the local mines, harnessed together
in two female cart teams, sweating out their days under the whip. It was an
easy way for an official to get out of an uncomfortable situation. They
would not be heard from again.
The three around the post where positioned with their legs folded under
them. Each had a tight neck chain shackled to a ring set in the ground,
holding their faces in the dirt. Their ankles were also shackled to wide
rings, splaying their legs out to the sides. With hands behind them, wrists
secured with steel handcuffs to a chain from the post pulling their arms
painfully straight up, their upper arms and shoulder muscles showed the
constant strain. All were totally naked, glistening with sweat as it ran
down their tan sides. 'We now keep their hair cut very short and pubes bare
for hygiene purposes.' The warden said. 'As you can see these three are some
of the older ones. The one on the right was a university professor, an
advisor to the student paper till they published an anti-government article.
You should see her perform in the sex pens, when they bring in the soldiers
from field training. She can do forty-eight hours as a sex slave with no
breaks. Her former students are always surprised at seeing her here taking
cock. The male ones really like to visit her. Some of her female
students like to see her howling under a punishment whipping on visitors
day.' She looked to be in her late forties, deeply tanned, with thick
muscular thighs and a wide back. Large soft breasts pressed into the dirt
beneath her sweating torso, bulged out at the sides, caked with dirt. Her
large butt cheeks criss-crossed with thick raised welts from a recent
whipping. The welts extended down to her plump wet hairless pubes, which
hung just above the dirt. Having her legs spread so wide made for a clear
view of the professor's reddish brown anus. She must have been ass fucked a
great deal.
'When the troops come in from field maneuvers, we supply them
with female recreation. Next to the barracks is what they call the sex pens.
A prisoner will serve there from a few days up to two weeks. That means they
are available for use twenty-four hours a day if needed. The first few days
back from the field means a prisoner is in almost constant use. We have no
limits in what it takes to please the troops,' the Warden continued, 'this
one in front for example has done very well in the pens, they are always
asking for her. She was a rebel commander in Matra Province. She is serving
life.'
The female was much younger then the professor, toned, muscular and
big boned. A large stainless steel ring hung from her elongated clit. Her
labia and anus were a ruddy red, from some hard use. She clenched and
unclenched her anus, trying to keep the hovering fly's from landing on her
large brown hole. Whip welts covered each firm thigh. Her head was fully
encased in a leather hood. Every rib on the prisoner's chest outlined as she
breathed. There was not an ounce of fat on her; obviously she was worked
long and hard. As if the Warden read my thoughts, he said, 'She can be worked
from sun up till midnight seven days a week. One of the strongest bitches
here. We started her in the pump house for five months, then had her
transporting supplies, she can carry 140 pounds all day.' The last one was
quite young, slim, with huge swollen breasts, thick veins visible just under
the skin. She was shackled so tightly that her pubes touched the dirt,
fleshy full thighs yielding out to either side. As the warden tapped the
side of the sweat coated prisoner's breast with his boot, he said, 'A student,
she was editor of a student newspaper, this one we have on the forced
lactation program, they start with this new hormone, injected twice daily
directly deep into the nipple. In three months the tit size doubles, even
triples, and they flow freely. Makes their nips thick and long and super
tender, the aureole get dark brown and huge. It really humiliates these
radical feminist types, turning their tits in huge milked udders. One side
effect is constant sexual arousal.' I could see that her pubes were wet
with more than sweat. The warden then raised a two foot black staff he had
carried from his office and pressed the end to the anus of the former rebel
leader. She grunted and started to move her butt, pressing it against he end
of the prod. Soon the tip penetrated her. He gave it a little push burying
six inches of the black prod into her dark hole. 'You see even these rebels
can be trained. You should see how they perform with each other in the sex
cells.' The sweating prisoner vigorously pumped the prod deep in her ass.
'She really wants it in her cunt,' he laughed. Yanking it out, 'lets go see
the rest of the punishment compound. These bitches are here for another two
days, before we send them back to work in the quarry. They will need their
rest, anyone sent to a punishment area gets an automatic two hours added to
their workday and double chains for six months. For these three that will
mean eighteen hour days.'
Going though a door at the right then down a short covered passage between
two high walls, led us into a small compound. In the center were five cages
made of iron bars, each about four feet square. They stood a few feet off
the ground on metal posts. Only one was occupied. Squeezed into the end cage
were two naked female prisoners, arms forced together behind them by steel
elbow and wrist cuffs, mouths filled with large ring gags, ankles shackled
together. They could hardly move in the confines of the cage, pressing
against each other, as they shifted their weight on the iron bars. It was
easy to see that there was no way to get comfortable on the bars in such a
small space. The afternoon sun blazed down on them sparkling off their wet
brown skin. They stopped moving at seeing us, obviously hoping for some
relief. 'These two were caught fighting,' the warden said, 'a few days in
here with no food should cure them of that.' I could see the bruises on
their sweating torsos; it must have been quite a fight. One looked to be
just out of her teens, slim with small little tits, while the other was much
larger perhaps thirty or so. She seemed to be trying to get more room for
herself, wiggling her hips in an effort to shove the other. But there was
nowhere for her to go, no relief. As we left the younger one let loose a
stream of pee splashing some on her cage mate before it dripped onto the hot
ground. This began the struggling with a renewed effort.
As we left the Warden got a call in his radio. 'Let's go to the transport
training area a supply team has just come in.' After a few twists and turns
in the compound complex we entered another large walled in area. Towards the
back where two window-less concrete buildings and along one wall six small
tin boxes. Near each box was a tall wooden post with shackles at the top and
a large black rubber dildo mounted on the side. In the center of the
compound stood a row of five prisoners, one behind the other. Each had a
large round wooden pole across her shoulders, her arms extended out along
the pole, wrists shackled to a ring at the ends. A neck chain linked them
together, passing from the back of the iron collar between the legs and up
to the next slaves collar, with five or so feet between them. Large sacks
hung from the end of each shoulder pole. They all looked exhausted. Dirt and
sweat streaked down their naked bodies as they breathed heavily, swaying
slightly under their loads. 'Each sack is fifty pounds,' the Warden
explained, 'we use these teams of five to transport supplies to the military
outposts in the jungle. That's a four or five days trek each way. Three
guards keep them moving from sunup to sundown, with just water stops every
two hours. Once they get to an outpost, they spend the night serving the
sexual needs of the garrison then start back with loads of equipment that
need repair. We started this almost ten years ago and it's a great system.
Takes a lot out of the bitches so we select the younger ones, mostly
students. Once in a while you get one like that bitch in the front with all
the muscles that can still do it at forty and even fifty but that's the
exception. We have one that is almost sixty still on the slave chains.'
They all looked very fit, hard and toned. Besides the older one, two where
in their early twenties, tall lean, with small firm breasts, another
appeared to be a little older, dark skinned with large high breasts and huge
brown nipples, her back and butt cheeks where covered with whip welts. The
one on the end, staggering under her heavy load was a very short female, sweat
streaming down her stout torso, huge full breasts cascaded to her round
belly. No doubt what they would call a Jewess American Princess in New York,
a term for spoiled bitch. As I watched, the guard ordered them to turn in
place to one side, kneel down and place their heads on the ground. As chains
rattled they gratefully did so, allowing another prisoner who had been
standing off to one side to release their loads and drag them away to a
waiting cart. 'Let me show you something over here,' said the Warden. He
walked me over to the row of tin boxes along the wall. 'These are the
sweatboxes, they are just one of many punishments we use for the prisoner
transport teams. You see when they return from a trip, the guards review how
well they performed and mete out the necessary punishments.' Of the five
boxes, two had the lids down.
The Warden lifted the lid on one box. Out came the thick hot smell of female
juices mixed with sweat and urine. In the box looking up at us, wet eyes
blinking in the sudden light was a bald mature female, in her late forties.
She was squatting over a thick black dildo, it's shaft shiny wet, ankles
chained wide to floor rings, arms cuffed at wrist and elbows behind her
back. Clipped to a steel rod that ran from side to side, her thick nipples
suffered. The Warden roughly grabbed one big pendulous tit to show me a clip
with its spike that pierced her brown nipple. She moaned loudly through the jaw
stretching ball gag, as streams of sweat ran down her heavy body. 'This one
failed to keep up with her work quot, even after we added two extra hours a
day.' said the Warden, slamming down the lid. In the next box was a young
black prisoner, obviously terrified, her eyes pleading to be let out. The
vicious nipple clips pulling her high round tits into painful cones. She
squirmed on the dildo forced deep into her vagina as she shifted from one
leg to the other trying for some relief. Drool from the gag that held her
mouth wide cascaded down her dark chest adding to the shiny wetness that
covered her dirty black body. 'Her first punishment', commented the Warden,
'been here only a week, another university student, wrote an anti-government
leaflet. They gave her ten years, but with her looks she will be here much,
much longer. One of the guards has he eye on her for his personal cells.'
As we walked back to the kneeling transport team I saw a tall woman,
dressed in camouflage pants, matching sleeveless tee shirt cut off just below
her breasts, and black high top boots. The last time I had seen her she had
longer hair, this time it was cut short but not prisoner length. She was
well over six feet tall, darkly tanned, lean and toned. The bottoms of her
full breasts peaked out from the clinging tee shirt as she walked to the
line of prisoners. On her web belt, hung a thin cane used to administer
painful lashes, a short electric prod, and a pair of handcuffs, next to a
small radio. Her name was Brit, she ran the transport teams for the
military. At one time Brit had been a prisoner herself, caught in a rebel
training camp, but after five years in this very prison she opted to stay
after proving herself by interrogating new rebel prisoners for the military.
Her methods are still used but not widely discussed. Walking with a
purposeful stride she reached the prisoners, and took out a sheet of paper.
Looking at it Brit directed two prisoners who, unlike the others, were
dressed in low cut khaki shorts and sleeveless khaki shirts ending just
below the breasts. They were prison trustees, inmates who had a higher
status. They performed various duties, mostly caring for the prisoners.
These two, bare foot with ankle chains tended the transport chains. The
prisoners were still on their knees leaning forward, legs folded under,
heads in the dirt, arms shackled to their poles. The loads, having been
hauled off by the other trustees. Brit tapped each prisoner with her boot
making them position legs wider, butts higher up. With one trustee at the
head and the other at the feet of a prisoner, they unshackled the poles and
re-shacked their arms behind them, adding ankle chains and another one
connecting the ankle chain to their wrists. Consulting her notes she begin
to give orders to the trustees. 'This one, 50 lashes with the heavy whip,
tits and ass,' pointing to the tall muscular female, as she swung her cane
up between the prisoners spread thighs smacking her hanging pubes. The woman
yelped. 'And add ten on her cunt!' commanded Brit. As she went down the
line, each prisoner was given some type of discipline. The last one, short
with huge breasts, got 4 months in the isolation cells, with daily whippings
and bound tits. That meant 4 months crushed in a three by three meter closed
cell with a stone floor, bound in chains and taken out occasionally for heavy
floggings and.forced sex.
As they where marched away, Brit said nothing, just nodded to the Warden as
she clipped a chain leash to the remaining prisoner, the youngest one,
yanked her to her feet, twisted her wrists up behind her, securing them to
the back of her neck chain. Then giving her a tap on the tits, implying that
she thrust her bare chest up and out, she led her off at a trot. The
prisoner barely able to keep up in her short ankle chains. 'Brit has a few
cells in the lower levels, where no one goes.' said the Warden, looking in
the direction of Brit and her leashed prisoner. 'She calls it her
playground, has a former general's adult daughter down there, and her
mother. There is another team going out in a few minutes let's wait for them,
this group will get one days rest before they too go again. '
Soon the door in the far wall opened and a team of five young prisoners came
into the compound escorted by two guards and two prison trustees. The
prisoners where made to kneel then put their heads on the ground just behind
the carry poles left by the pervious group. As the trustees worked to
re-shackle each female to their poles and ready them for the trip the
guard brought in a cart loaded with fresh supplies. A supply bag was secured
to the ends of each pole and the prisoner's struggled under the weight as
they got to their feet. 'Do you remember them?' the Warden asked. 'Yes, in
fact I do,' I replied, 'they are from that women's soccer team pickup for rebel
activities. It looks like your putting them to good use.' They were all
very toned and muscular, and deeply tanned. I could tell that the Warden had
been working them to their limits and beyond. It had been almost 6 months
since the entire team had pleaded guilty after several weeks in the
interrogation unit and received 30-year sentences at hard labor. I saw them
being marched naked in chains to the transport boat. As they were between
the ages of eighteen and twenty-two and very fit to start with, the Warden
put them immediately on sixteen hour work days hauling logs from the jungle
like mule teams and pulling carts filled with dirt to make a new road into
the rain forest. Worked hard under the whips they quickly gained an
understanding of their place, accepting the rule of male guards who demanded
absolute obedience.
Once again we made our way though a maze of high walls, through locked doors
and tunnels emerging in one of many walled in courtyards. At first I thought
I it was empty save for a few large posts and rings in the walls, however on
closer inspection I saw a dozen or so small metal doors set in the ground.
Each door was in two sections, hinged on the sides opening in the middle,
with two long rods passing though metal flanges holding the door sections
closed. In the middle, where the doors met was a hinged disk with a small
lock. Screwed into this disk was an iron pipe sticking up about two feet in
height with a cap on it. The Warden smiled at my curiosity. He called a
guard over and said, 'Show the Inspector, how rebel prisoners are punished.'
The guard walked over to one of the pipes, took off the cap and peed down
it. He was reward with a clattering and banging coming from under the steel
doors. He laughed. Holding the pipe in one hand he unlatched the metal disk,
opening a six-inch hole. Looking up at us were the pleading eyes of a young
female prisoner, her face dripping with sweat and urine. She moved her mouth
up to the hole sucking in big lung fulls of fresh air. 'Open it up', the
Warden ordered.
The guard unsnapped the metal disk and folded back the hinged doors to
either side. Beneath was a heavy metal grate hinged on the sides the same
way as the outer doors. It too had a hole where the sections met. Under the
grate I could see an all-metal box about three by three feet. Sitting in it
was a naked prisoner, with wrists handcuffed behind her. She had just
enough room to sit, but none to stand or lay down. The box was so shallow
that she had to bow her head. The bottom of the box was not solid but made
up of iron bars with a small space for waste. The smell of waste, female
juices and urine wafted up from her. She looked to be in her twenties, dark,
hair cut very short, body coated with an oily layer for sweat and dirt, her
stubby brown nipples pierced with large stainless steel rings set deep in
the tit flesh. She tilted back, mouth open trying to get as much fresh air
as she could without looking directly at us. The guard opened the iron
grate and had her stick her head up, closing the grate so her neck was
secured in the two halves of the hole. Thus she could not pull her head back
in the box. He then closed the outer doors leaving her head out. Sliding the
rods back in place she was now trapped with just her head sticking out of
the box. Sweat streamed down her face as she looked anxiously around.
The guard opened five more of the boxes securing each prisoner like the
first one. When all six had their heads out he opened the last box and
dragged the struggling female out of her box. She collapsed on the ground,
gasping for fresh air. 'She was the commander of this little unit of
rebels.' The Warden explained. 'We captured them near the prison. They were
planning to break out some of the prisoners. Now they are learning what it
means to be a prisoner here. After six months or so in punishment they go
into training and from there to the labor areas, brothels, or transport
units.'
I looked back at the six heads sticking out of the boxes. Twisting and
turning in a vain attempt to get some relief from the gathering flies they
did not take their eyes off their former commander. She appeared to be in
her forties, tall, muscular with full round breasts set high and wide on her
chest. With her arms shackled behind her and her ankles connected by a
short chain. The guard used a few lashes with his strap, making her crawl to
a near by flogging post, dragging her tits on the ground. Now caked with dirt
she moaned in protest as the guard strapped her wrists to the ends of a
short bar. The bar had a chain in the center leading up to an extension at
the top of the post. He turned a crank on the post hauling her up, till her
feet left the ground. She begin screaming,
'Noooo PLEASE NOOO, DON'T WHIP ME AGAIN! FUCK ME INSTEAD! LET ME SUCK YOUR COCK,
DON'T WHIP ME! FUCK MY ASS! BUT NOT THE WHIP AGAIN!'
Her dirt-coated legs kicked the air, as the guard took a long lash off it's hook
on the wall. The first stroke caught her full across the back curling around
her. Sweat flew in all directions as she let out a high-pitched shriek. She
screamed for a full five minutes before her voice gave out. Some of her welts
opened up, streaking her body with blood and sweat. The guard shouted an order,
'HUMP!', and laughed as she pumped
her hips in simulated sex. He rested as she humiliated herself, moaning and
wriggling her hips, knowing that if she stopped the whipping would start
again. 'Tell me what you want bitch,' ordered the guard. Immediately she
started to shout.
'FUCK MY SLUT CUNT SIR!. I AM A SLUT WHORE SIR, I NEED
COCK. PLEASE SIR LET ME SUCK YOUR COCK, I WANT TO LIVE ON YOUR CUM. FILL MY FUCK
HOLES WITH CUM. PLEASE SIR KEEP ME NAKED SO EVERYONE CAN SEE MY LITTLE TITS AND
MY WET CUNT. FUCK MY HOLES SIR!'
The other prisoners did not take their eyes off their former leader. Tears
flowed down their dirty cheeks, heads nodded as she shouted her new status.
As we left, her flogging resumed, now with wild shrieks. The guard had gotten
to her tits.
'Now I have someone you need to meet' said the Warden.
