The Prisoner

Chapter 51

Dave Stewart's deep sleep was suddenly disturbed. It was one of the female prisoners bursting into his bedroom to attend to her cleaning duties. He glanced at his bedside clock and noted that it was nearly ten am so it was hardly the girl's fault; he should have been up and about. Never the less he could not afford the slightest error to go unchecked so demanded her name from his bed.

"Court Sir" she responded.

"I will deal with this stupidity later Court. Now get out!"

The crest-fallen girl departed as he eased himself out of bed and looked around the somewhat untidy room remembering the events of the previous night with a surge of pleasure. He attended to his immediate needs in the bathroom with his shower running and awaiting his presence. Standing under the hot spray soaping himself thoroughly, he went over the evening in his mind.

The other staff had been right about the girl's high opinion of herself. When he had her standing in front of him as he sprawled in a comfortable armchair she seemed nervous but still possessed of a sense of self-importance. He realised, looking at the style of her uniform, that she was from a squad that were dressed in the style of the nineteen-thirties with old-fashioned skirts, stockings and no doubt, personal underwear. It would be fun unwrapping this parcel he thought, then realised that if he wished, it could unwrap itself.

He decided to run over a few basic rules, so having corrected a few points about her attention position making her brace her shoulders back a little more and force her hands further down her side, he spoke:

"I understand that you have volunteered for personal duties with me tonight. Are you aware that this means that I can do with you whatever I want for as long as I want, that you have to obey my every order and carry out any task that I give you and that any refusal on your part can result in a formal punishment for disobedience? I understand that you have just received a "formal"?"

Millard Stokes nodded and muttered her acknowledgement.

"And are you aware that I can use you sexually in any way that I require or have you perform any sexual act on me that I feel like?"

The prisoner blushed deep red, hesitated and then stammered:

"Y-y-yes Sir, but I thought that you would j-j-just want me to allow you to have intercourse with me. I don't really want to do…"

Stewart leapt to his feet in controlled fury.

"…Allow….don't want…. what in the hell do you think this place is Millard-Stokes, an up-market introduction service? You are a prisoner with no rights, a prisoner who will do as I direct…without any hesitation…is that clear?"

Still blushing a red almost as vivid as her hair, she nodded in agreement.

Stewart stood and slowly circled the girl taking in her sturdy build with slightly heavy hips and pronounced breasts. He noticed that her shirt was made from a heavier material than the norm, no doubt in the 1930's style that her squad leader required. There was a strange smell of antiseptic about her that he realised probably came from a pre-punishment application of the fluid. He reached down with both hands and grabbed her buttock cheeks firmly.

He was surprised at the girl's self control. Bearing in mind her earlier correction he expected them to be tender to the touch let alone a squeeze but she hardly flinched. He renewed his grip and dug his nails into the soft flesh without any real reaction. Perhaps, he thought to himself, the formal punishments in this Centre are mild in comparison to his last place.

Moving round to her front he brought his hand up to her chest but before he could make contact, she moved back out of his reach with her face screwed up in an attempt to avoid contact. A quick flick with his fingertips across each covered and protected breast evoked a gasp of discomfort that was out of all proportion with the force of his hand.

Suddenly Stewart realised the mistake that he had made. Her punishment had not been to her buttocks, but somewhere else. He smiled and asked her to describe her earlier discipline.

"I collected three BRD's Sir, s-so I had to have a b-breast caning".

He learnt that even though it had been her first Breast Related Punishment, following a recommendation from her squad leader, the Lady Governor had decided to be more severe than she would normally be. It would seem that the use of a martinet type thongs had not been approved in this establishment and they still used the crueller thin plastic rod. She had been sentenced to fifteen strokes across each one.

As with other Centres, the wardress inflicting the punishment had been stripped to the waist so that her own bare breasts emphasised the femininity of the occasion. Once she was standing stripped to the waist and secured in the special frame, each of the prisoner's breasts had taken five on the upper surface and five on the lower with the breast held high by a wardress wearing sturdy protective gloves so that she could grip the nipples without risk to herself. Finally five strokes were laid across the nipple and areola.

Stewart realised that he now knew one of the cracks in the girl's protective shell that he could use to deflate her ego. The punishment that she had just received was designed to cause her discomfort without any permanent damage and it was the sheer indignity of having to accept that your breasts could be punished that provided the true value in the scale of things in the Correctional Centre.

He thought that the time had come to take a good look at his prisoner and started by telling her to take up the present position. He emphasised that after every order she should resume that well braced, feet apart position so that he could enjoy an uninterrupted view of her.

He ordered her to remove her tie.

Then to unbutton her uniform shirtfront, pulling the tails clear of her waistband so that a tantalising glimpse of her heavy old-fashioned vest could be seen. Almost all of her generous breasts were restrictively covered but a small area of flesh could be seen and there was a thin red line across the top of each breast. On his next order she removed the uniform shirt and handed it to him.

He found that the material was of a heavy cotton type, tailored slightly to fit the bust area and designed to keep a schoolgirl warm in the freezing school of nineteen-thirties England. Even without the other garments it would be far too thick to wear, with comfort, in this modern centrally heated Centre. As she snapped back to the present position her squad leaders obsession with old-fashioned styles became even more apparent. Great bushes of gingery-red underarm hair sprang into view that had obviously not been trimmed let alone shaved for months. Stewart accepted that it was entirely at the squad leaders discretion what the prisoners wore and whether they were allowed to shave, use deodorants make-up etc. Here was a leader who had found yet another way of guaranteeing that the females in her charge would feel humiliated just by undressing, let alone whenever they were required to exert themselves.

He had her turn slowly around so that he could assess her from all angles. When she was facing him he told her to raise her skirt at the front, to above her waist.

She leant down to the low hem and reluctantly lifted it revealing a pair of regulation green school knickers with elasticised waist and tops that gripped her thighs tightly. The straps of a suspender belt hung down from the inside of the garment's legs and clipped to the thick tops of two dark green stockings leaving a three inch gap displaying bare white flesh. The stockings were again of the type that he would expect to find in a museum of dress for the first half of the last century and must be irritating to her soft skin, especially when she was at all warm.

Having allowed her to drop her skirt Stewart thought that the time had come to get down to the business in hand. He stood up and removed his uniform jacket then pointed to his trousers.

"Well girl, this is where you fulfil your agreement. I require you to demonstrate your abilities with oral sex. Kneel upright on the floor, extract my penis and go to it."

A look of both horror and disgust came over the girl's face as she knelt down in front of him. She slowly reached up and slid down his zip, only too aware of the bulge behind it. With some difficulty she manoeuvred his swollen organ clear of his underwear until it stood rigidly pointing at her face. She held it with both hands staring at the end as if mesmerised.

"P-please S-sir…I just can't do it…can I do something else instead?"

Stewart spoke with an icy detachment in his voice.

"Millard-Stokes, you have been given an order now follow it, this will be your last warning."

The girl continued to stare alternately at his face then his penis, but she made no attempt to comply with his order. Stewart made no attempt to cover himself as he walked over the telephone. The girls overheard him expressing regret but asking for someone's presence in the room to help him with a problem prisoner. The conversation was short.

It took just a few minutes during which the girl was obliged to remain kneeling in front of Stewart, before a loud knock was heard at the door. She was facing away from it and dared not turn as Stewart covered himself then greeted and allowed the visitor in. She heard a female's voice:

"Well, Mr Stewart, I did warn you that this prisoner had a reputation for self-importance, I presume that she has refused an order .I think that I may well be able to help her over this psychological hurdle".

She was told to stand and to turn around. Facing her was one of the Centre policewomen, a tall slim female with her hair in a ponytail knotted behind her uniform hat. Her face was rather angular with a large pointed nose and her eyes almost cat-like in shape. She gave the appearance of someone who spent much of her waking hours searching for errors amongst her charges, and finding them. Her nametag displayed her name as Rathbone, a name that Millard-Stokes had heard of from the girls who had had the misfortune to meet her. Under her left arm she had one of the punishment books that would soon, no doubt, contain Millard-Stokes name. In her left hand were clutched two long springy canes.

"I understand girl that you have just disobeyed a direct order from a member of staff. It is immaterial to me what that order was; so don't get any girlie ideas that I will support you in any way. The only choice I will now give you is between your being sent for a formal punishment, and with your record I would not advise that, and your accepting an unofficial that doesn't appear on your paperwork…Well girl…which is it to be?"

The girl stared at the floor, knowing that she had but one choice, and muttered her acceptance. The paper work completed she was effectively at the mercy of this other female who would not hesitate to impose her authority.

"I don't wish to interrupt your evening in any way Mr Stewart, but this girl is hardly dressed for punishment, and I have no intention to lay the cane on over those voluminous knickers as she would hardly feel a thing. With your permission I will have her prepare herself".

Stewart muttered his consent and sat back in his armchair to observe the policewoman in action.

Firstly she had the still blushing prisoner remove her thick long skirt and vest, commenting that the style of dress chosen by her squad leader was certainly effective in humiliating the girls and making them feel inferior. They were, it would seem, extremely hot and itchy to wear particularly when carrying out heavy duties such as marching drill and as the leader didn't believe in them using deodorants, hardly pleasant for the staff who had need to access their intimate regions.

She handed Stewart the vest so that he could feel the perspiration dampness for himself. He looked the girl over as she resumed the present position. The heavy white support bra was now fully displayed. Her legs were covered in thick green stockings made of a coarse woollen material that required sturdy suspender clips to hold them up. The girl's skin was the whitest that Stewart had seen so far in the system. Perhaps her flame red hair made it contrast even more he mused.

When she was told to remove her brassiere, she stood frozen to the spot staring at Stewart.

"One of the problems we find with this old-fashioned dress style," Police Officer Rathbone remarked, "Is that the girls who wear it become unusually modest about their bodies, almost as if they had lived in the 1930's themselves". Even so, bearing in mind that she has already had one breast punishment today…"

Suddenly, catching Stewart by surprise, the young policewoman suddenly slapped both breasts with her right palm and backhand. The prisoner instinctively brought her hands down from behind her head to protect them, realising the enormity of her error as she did so. She immediately put her hands back in place with just her face showing the pain that the slaps had caused to her overly sensitive breasts.

Coldly and dispassionately Miss Rathbone spoke:

"You have just earned yourself two BRD's for that little display girl. One for refusing to remove your bra and the second for trying to protect your breasts from my very reasonable slaps. Unless you want to be visiting the main punishment room for some more breast caning, you had better strip off that bra…NOW!"

Almost in a panic, Millard-Stokes reached behind her back, unclasped the broad back clips and leant forward to slip the garment free of her shoulders. As her large firm breasts came into view Stewart found himself staring at the pure whiteness of her skin and how it contrasted with the evil set of lines that ran across each globe. The large pink nipples were inflamed and swollen from their contact with the cane and given the firmness of the breasts, he could even make out two of the lines that crossed their tender undersides. No wonder she had reacted to the slightest touch.

It would have been easy for the policewoman to move immediately on to the caning, but that was not her style. The prisoner had challenged her authority in trying to protect herself against having her breasts slapped and that would have to be dealt with first.

"I am going to repeat the breast-slaps that you tried to avoid girl. You will remain rigidly at the present with your eyes open…is that understood?"

Millard-Stokes eyes were indeed open, wide open as she absorbed the policewoman's words. She did not need to be told what would happen if she resisted again. She braced even harder into the present position…and gritted her teeth.

The policewoman stood directly in front of the prisoner and brought her right hand slowly back behind her shoulder. She brought it quickly down to slap into the outer side of the left breast with a loud wet sound of impact. Before the girl could show any reaction, the same hand returned on the back swing.

It was unfair and unkind. Miss Rathbone deliberately brought the backs of her fast moving hard fingers across the sensitised nipple area on the right breast in a brutal flick. Millard-Stokes grunted through gritted teeth. Her knees bent, her hands unclasped and she nearly brought them down to protect herself…but just managed to regain control.

"Nearly lost it girlie!" snapped the policewoman with a sneer. "Mr Stewart, perhaps you would like to take a look at these seemingly sensitive nipples?"

As Stewart moved to stand in front of the girl, Miss Rathbone moved to her rear, She grasped the girl's long pony-tail and pulled it sharply down so that her head was pulled down at the rear so that she had to look at him down the length of her nose.

Her body was now arched to the rear and her breasts forced into even greater prominence. The white, almost alabaster skin was shiny with a thin layer of sweat and the smell of the astringent disinfectant even stronger. He cupped both breasts with his hands; they felt cold and slippery to his touch. He transferred both his gaze and his fingers to her nipple areas. Both, he reminded himself, had taken five strokes of the cane that afternoon.

Holding both nipples he firmly squeezed and twisted them making the girl moan and flinch. He deliberately refrained from too much pressure so that the girl gave up all hope, as he knew that the mere prospect of a further breast punishment could be used to ensure her obedience, and he didn't want to consume that option too early in the evening. It would be far better to let her believe that she could hang on a little longer. He decided to move on to her punishment.

It was the policewoman who did the organising. She carefully selected one of the guardroom canes and stood in front of the half naked female.

"I now have to deal with your disobedience. Don't think that you will be getting off lightly because we are not in the guardroom, I will give you…lets see…ten strokes and I hope that you will learn your lesson girl. Take off your knickers and hand them to Mr Stewart."

It took the girl some time to force down the garment as the elastic around the waist and both legs gripped her tightly. Eventually she handed the knickers to him and resumed the present position now wearing just her green stockings and suspender belt. The red marks around her waist and thighs stood out vividly and sweat drops could be seen against her white skin.

The panties were heavy and damp to the touch. As he opened them out he could see the white gusset that ensured that the dark material did not obscure any traces of carelessness. They would certainly be uncomfortable to wear in warm temperatures he thought to himself.

Miss Rathbone doubted the girl's ability to accept the punishment without some form of restraint so she ordered her to lie across the table and reach out with her hands. She placed a footstool between her legs to help keep her legs parted. This revealed tufts of gingery hair that protruded from between her buttocks and thighs. Stewart moved to the other end of the table, took a seat, gripped her wrists and braced himself against the edge of the table to hold her firmly in place. Her breasts were pressed down on to the wooden surface and her face was forced to look up at his. She had the usual look of the prisoner about to receive punishment and accepting the terrible inevitability of the event.

The policewoman took her time. She removed her uniform jacket and slowly rolled up her sleeves. She picked up the instrument and stood to the victims left shuffling her uniform shoes to find a point of balance. Two practice swishes were taken, then with a sharp intake of breath, she brought the cane down across the alabaster nates.

The impact made the girl jump slightly, but Stewart realised that this was simply in response to the impact. He firmed up his grip of her wrists just as the pain reached her brain and she responded by almost leaping off the table. Her eyes opened unbelievably wide and then screwed themselves shut as she absorbed the agony, knowing that she had no other choice. That first stroke, a real bitch, set the tone for the others. The young policewoman delivered each with brutal force and total objectivity. They continued with monotonous regularity with the girl first squealing in pain then simply sobbing her heart out in the all too short intervals between strokes. Several times she lifted off the table leaving a damp sheen where her breasts had been pressed down, only to bring them slapping back down onto the hard surface…all thought of their sensitivity forced from her mind by the swishing cane.

Eventually it was over, Stewart, having cautioning her to grip the edge of the table with her hands and not to attempt to touch herself, wandered around to the her rear to inspect the results. This had been a thorough but fair punishment and only what the girl had deserved her thought as he ran his fingertips over the red swollen lines that crossed her white skin. He had to hand it to Miss Rathbone; each was laid squarely across the cheeks, parallel to the floor with a separation between them all. Both sides were equally wealed, the trademark of a really expert caner.

Soon the shaking wretch was back in the present position in front of them, tears still running down her face. Miss Rathbone, doubling the cane between her hands, spoke:

"Well girl, that has dealt with your refusal, but before I leave I want to be fully assured that you have learnt your lesson and will now obey any order that Mr Stewart gives you. With Mr Stewart's permission I will now observe you carrying out that order.

The fact that she was about to stay came as rather a shock to Stewart as he had never considered sex to be a spectator sport, at least, not when it was his decision. However, having ordered Millard-Stokes to take up a position facing into a corner, he followed Miss Rathbone's mimed instructions and stripped off his clothes to stand naked. In no time the policewoman had the girl kneeling at his feet so that her face was at a level with his rapidly reacting penis.

The girl was told to keep her eyes open, to use her hand to slide the foreskin back from the glans, gently cup his scrotum with both hands and finally to take the glistening and swollen head between her lips. For a first attempt, and following the instructions to rock her head back and fro, Stewart had to admit that she was doing well. So well that he had to signal Miss Rathbone to call a halt after just three or four minutes in case he was taken over the top.

The girl was then really put through her paces. Firstly she had to kneel dog like on Stewart's bed with him mounting her. No consideration was given to fore play that would make the penetration in any way pleasurable for her; it was a simple case of the penis being thrust in hard to the un-lubricated vagina. Next she was forced to hold her breasts together so that he could force his penis between them. It was true that the friction surfaces were on the soft inner sides that had mainly escaped the cane strokes, but the necessary firm grip that she had to employ on the outer breasts was painful enough.

Miss Rathbone, clearly flushed herself, then had Stewart lay on his back and ordered the girl to mount and ride him. It was immediately apparent that this position stretched the skin even tighter across her punished nates. Miss Rathbone tapped her across her upper breasts none too lightly with the cane to emphasise her order, Millard-Stokes gritting her teeth tightly together took up the ordered position. At first the prisoner rode well but held her breasts with her hands restricting their movement. Once she had been told to keep her hands behind her and pick up the pace, Stewart experienced not only the succulent grip of her tight and moving vagina, but also had the sight of her pure white and punished breasts bouncing and slapping each other as the girl engaged on her equestrian duty. The discomfort she felt from this could be seen in her face with tears forming and running down her cheeks.

Just as Stewart was about to lose control, the policewoman called the girl to a halt and made her stand next to the bed leaving a rampant Stewart on his back.

"Well, Millard-Stokes, my cane seems to have done the trick and I feel that I can now leave you in Mr Stewart's capable hands fully aware of your need to obey him."

With a broad grin and a wink from behind the girls back, she then collected her equipment and let herself out. Stewart was left alone with the girl and feeling rather less inhibited. After a few moments pondering what he should do next he leant back on the bed and pointed to his erect and shining penis saying just one word:

"Clean!"

Again the blushing as she leant over him and tentatively extended her tongue to lick her own secretions from his member. Whether she wanted to or not, she knew that any disobedience for the rest of the night would result in Miss Rathbone's return and the consequences for here would be more than serious. Stewart then had her adopt the sixty-nine position so that her spread crotch was over his face as she worked hard with her lips, tongue and mouth in swallowing his penis fully. He certainly had a close up of her feminine centre. Covered in copious long ginger-red hair he could scent the effects of the heavy thick panties that she had to wear as he reached between her legs to part her labia.

For a second she started to rebel and almost chocked on her full mouth. She soon got herself under control and the sucking and licking continued.

Her inner lips were tight, but even so a well-formed clitoris could be seen nestling between their protective folds. Stewart started to gently touch it with his tongue, realising that he was probably the first male to take that liberty.

The sensation caught the prisoner by surprise and she moved her thighs in inadvertent response. Stewart, whilst accepting that the girl was there for his use, doing whatever he wanted for how ever long he wanted he saw no reason why she shouldn't derive a little pleasure herself from the evening …but then realised that it would better to be done in a way that she would feel less than his equal. He ordered her to stand next to his bed, at the present.

He reached out the fingers of his right hand and slowly started to work on her now protruding nub with his fingertip. In a surprisingly short time he started to feel an almost imperceptible movement of her parted thighs and soon had her moving with a gentle thrusting that caused his finger to press even harder against her now slippery opening.

When her climax came it needed a few sharp words to keep her braced in the present position as she tried to almost double up in response. She may have been blushing yet again but it would have gone unnoticed beneath the flushed red face neck and upper chest.

Not surprisingly the forced masturbation had left her feeling even more humiliated and Stewart thought that the time had come for him to find relief for himself. He ordered the prisoner to bend over the back of an armchair with her legs well spread. The ridged marks of her recent caning, now turning blue more than red, stood out starkly. The pressure of his thighs chafing against them might result in even more delightful movement by her.

There was to be no pleasant foreplay for her, no way of trying to make this event even slightly pleasurable; this was to be a simple penetration for the sole benefit of a staff member. Stewart walked over to the bent over female, stood between her legs pulling her vulval lips wide with his fingers and then thrust his hard penis into the waiting vagina ramming his thighs into the wealed flesh of her firm buttocks. She reacted with a gasp as his pelvis made contact, then added a muted squeal as he leant over her and seized her breasts with each hand, gripping firmly.

He thrust hard and regularly, ignoring the whimpers of the prisoner at the discomfort. It took only a couple of minutes before he felt the familiar and unavoidable surgings of a climax.

He waited only seconds for the waves of sensation to subside then snatched back suddenly pulling his penis abruptly from its moist sheath so that the girl gasped in shock. Clutching some Kleenex to his organ he told Millard Stokes that she had just thirty seconds to get her clothes on and leave the apartment. The girl frantically retrieved her clothes from where they had been placed and struggled into them, not daring to ask for time to clean herself up. Stewart simply smiled at the thought of her having to undergo a surprise panty inspection on the way back to her dormitory and the cleansing shower that she desperately needed. He realised that this almost brutal treatment would be the way that he would have to conduct himself from now on in if he had any hope of achieving the requisite degree of fear and respect from his charges.

He was still smiling at this concept of "No more Mr Nice guy" when he had completed his own shower and stood drying himself. He had a busy day ahead of him in sorting out his new squad but first had to attend to the earlier breach of discipline when the girl disturbed him. He pressed the call button for the domestic staff.

A knock came at his door almost immediately and the prisoner entered on his command. She stood in front of him as he sat with just a bath towel around his waist. She was around mid-twenties and a little too slim for his liking. Her plain face under her swept back dark hair was entirely suited to her present role of a drudge. Stewart alarmed the girl even more by looking right at her as he decided how she should be dealt with.

He knew that the offence was minor and the girl hardly to blame but also appreciated how any leniency would affect his reputation. Better, he thought, to be severe rather than soft. He wandered over to where his equipment had been hung and lifted up his prodder and it's battery pack. He hadn't had the opportunity to try this out, at least not on the delivery end, and now could be the time.

"Your stupidity and carelessness gave me quiet a shock this morning Court, so I will now give you one or two in return. Remove your panties!"

With a look of startled fear on her face she stepped out of the garment and, looking around, placed them on an adjacent table. Stewart checked the device for the tell tale red light to ensure that it was fully charged and then told her to bend over facing away from him with her legs wide. He then used the prodder to flip the short skirt up over her back so that she was exposed.

He had to tell her to bend her knees somewhat so that she was in a semi squatting position before both her anus and labia were fully exposed to his view as he crouched behind her. He located her brown puckered anus with the tip of the prodder and pressed enough so that its tip was forced slightly into the orifice. The girl's acceptance of the intrusion was proof that she had yet to feel its effect. He pressed the button.

Even at the shock level allowed for junior staff it still gave a hefty jolting sting, especially to any sensitive area such as the anus. Court almost leapt in the air giving a strangulated squeal but soon came back to the original position albeit with some nervous twitching of her buttocks.

He administered three shocks in total and it was to the prisoner's credit that she resumed her position for the second two. Stewart was tempted to try the prodder on other areas but realised that he would have ample opportunities for that later with any female prisoner that he chose. Leaving her in the same exposed position he picked up his strap to finish the punishment. Three crisp ones across her tightened buttocks caused more involuntary movement and left her in no doubt that he, like most of the staff, was to be feared. He then allowed the girl to replace her panties and continue her duties.

He dressed in his new uniform and strode down to the staff quarters for an early lunch before he prepared for his first squad parade. By one pm he was sitting in his new office with a pile of personal files in front of him and switched on his VDU that accessed the information that was stored on the Centre computer. Firstly he flicked through the front pages of each file to ascertain the basic details of his squad.

They had been at the centre for just a month so should have a decent level of discipline by now he thought. Their ages ran from nineteen to thirty six and all were on a six-month sentence. Each female had a set of photographs that depicted her full face and then four naked, taken from the front, each side and back with the prisoner standing with legs wide and arms outstretched to the side. From the absence of marks these were obviously taken just after their arrival. One was black, one Asian Indian, one Chinese and the rest white. Two or three were somewhat overweight and Stewart was pleased to note that all but two or three were well endowed in the chest department.

It would be his first job to select a squad leader so he looked through the files again and liked the look of Sarah Dickinson, a twenty eight year old blonde. She had held supervisory positions in an IT company before her fall from grace. Her punishment record showed only relatively minor transgressions and all her punishments were well taken. Whether she would be capable of dishing out authority in a Correctional Centre would have to be determined but she looked as good a candidate as any of them.

One girl would have to be watched like a hawk. Another female in the style of Millard-Stokes stared at him from the photograph in her file. She was just twenty and had already received two formal thrashings. Bringing up her record on the screen Stewart looked at the post-punishment digitals. The first showed the results of twelve hard strokes across her plump backside and the second eighteen- some ten days later. Naturally no record existed of any informal punishments that she had received but the photographs revealed marks from what must have been such inflictions. Clearly a prisoner who would need the strictest treatment he thought for himself.

Towards the end of the afternoon he walked around his new domain on a final tour of inspection. The dormitory was ready for the prisoners with the beds in position down either side of the room with the sheets and blankets stacked on each ready for making. The retaining rings were fixed to the two rails at the top of each bed and the one hook at the bottom. The floor made of plain wood strips was still dusty and awaiting the labours of the prisoners who would eventually bring it to a gleaming shine.

The toilet and shower block was in a similar state awaiting their efforts. Stewart noted that the four normal toilets were lacking seats as he instructed. Even so, they would be more comfortable and less embarrassing to use that the four Asian type ones along a wall. He tore of a length of toilet paper and rubbing it with his hand approved the coarse cheap texture. He must remind them, he thought smiling to himself, of how many pieces they would each be allocated for every 24 hours as part of his economy drive. Five should be enough if they were careful.

The punishment room was ready with the equipment awaiting the first victim. Stewart, taking a plastic rod from it's rack and swishing it experimentally through the air, deeply regretted that his own powers of punishment were limited to his strap, but thought that with staff as helpful as Miss Rathbone, he would have no difficulty in introducing a little flexibility into the system.

His thoughts were disturbed by the sound of marching feet and glancing at his watch realised that the time had come to meet his squad. He strode into the bare parade room to find a duty wardress lining up twelve female prisoners in two lines of six. As he entered she called them to attention.

"Mr Stewart, here for what they are worth, are your new charges".

Stewart walked to the front to an audible gasp from the squad and a snapped "Silence!" from the wardress. They had not realised that they would be in the charge of one of the few male warders. As if life in the Centre was not bad enough, they would now have to face the added humiliation of being under the total control of a male officer…and all that might entail.

The two ranks stood rigidly at attention, staring straight ahead. Their school type uniforms had obviously been recently pressed for the inspection in the desperate hope that they could make a good impression. At the wardresses invitation Stewart walked the line standing in front of each nervous girl examining her in detail from head to toe. All of them held their shoulders well back and he could see the protrusions of several nervous nipples through the materials of the regulation bras and shirts. The wardress produced a notebook and pen making him realise that he would have to find some faults…which he did.

A mark on the toe of a highly polished shoe, a button undone on a shirt, a tie with a faint mark from some food, a skirt hem not exactly parallel with the floor, a hair out of place, a minute hole in the back of a stocking, a twisted bra strap just visible under the shirt…all resulted in an irritated question to the offender:

"Name?"

And, the scribbling down of the error. In no time eight of the squad had collected errors, errors that would require dealing with. He finished his tour and stood in front of them.

"Not a good start, you all knew that you would be facing an inspection and yet several of you still failed to take the necessary care. If I carried out a full inspection of your underwear and general bodily standards, goodness only knows what I would find."

Despite their rigid position, that last remark caused a look of horror to pass over their faces as the implication sank in that this man could and would be carrying out the most intimate examinations of their bodies.

Before they had time to remove it, the wardress spoke again:

"As Mr Stewart knows, it is traditional that when a squad is handed over to a new staff member the previous wardress lays on three with her strap and the new… warder in this case… also lays on three. As your previous wardress is absent, I will observe that tradition for her".

"When that tradition has been followed, we will then have to deal with these stupid errors, each of which will require a further three strokes. Mr Stewart will lay three strokes on each prisoner; those who have committed two errors will then receive a further three from me. Each time I point at a prisoner she will march forward, bend over fully reaching behind her to pull her panties down to her knees. She will then grasp her legs as low down as possible and brace herself."

The squad were allowed to stand at ease but warned that they were to watch each punishment and not divert their gaze. In no time the first recipient was bent over facing away from them with her buttocks tight and bared. Unhitching her strap the wardress carefully but firmly laid her three strokes over the lower section of the girl's bottom. Each stroke had her move slightly in response.

Panties pulled up, she returned to her position and was replaced by the next candidate. Several girls displayed the marks of recent punishments. One in particular was the twenty year old who had already aroused Stewart's interest in connection with her poor record. Her name was Thorpe and her buttocks were heavily bruised from what must have been a serious application of the cane. Stretched tight by her position the bruises would make this simple strapping exceedingly painful, but as Stewart knew well, such a fact was no excuse for leniency.

"When did you receive these marks Thorpe?" he enquired.

From her bent over position the girl stuttered out that she had been formally caned four days ago and received an unofficial two days ago. When asked by the wardress how many strokes she replied eighteen then twelve. The wardress muttered that these will feel like gentle slaps in comparison, knowing full well that across the bruises, they would feel like hell.

She selected the lower section of buttock where it joined the thigh as this was always sensitive and had clearly been the aiming point for many of the strokes. She laid on three hard ones and was pleased to note that when the girl stood, tears were forming in her eyes.

The rest of the "farewell" strapping continued with the usual inevitability until the last girl had returned to her position. Stewart then announced that he would now administer to "welcome" strap.

He knew that this was his chance to establish his authority and if he displayed the slightest kindness, all would be lost. He just hoped that his specially weighted strap would be noticed.

It was.

Every prisoner was taken by surprise as the first stroke sizzled down. Stokes only just managed to keep in position as the strap slapped into her sore and throbbing rear. At the end of the "Welcome" several of the females were visibly shaken and Thorpe reduced to snivelling.

"Now for the corrections," announced Stewart,

As the two staff decided earlier, Stewart would give the first three and the girl who had earned six would receive three more from the wardress to keep within the three-stroke rule. He was particularly interested in how Dickinson would take hers. Her offence had been pure invention when Stewart complained that her hem was uneven but he wanted to see if she displayed any rebellious streak.

She was tall with delightfully long legs and as she bent her hair hung down almost to the ground. The previous six strokes stood out on her otherwise unmarked bottom as Stewart laid on three as hard as he could, looking for her reaction. She certainly gasped and moved her feet slightly on the second stroke, quickly apologising and shuffling back in position. The third must have hurt like mad across her taught and burning cheeks but as she stood up the expression on her face was of simple acceptance.

There was no need to offer a prize to see whom the winner of six strokes would be. They left Thorpe until last. As she came forward her eyes were very much on the strap held by Stewart puzzled by how much a light strap could hurt. She was quick enough to bend over and lower her panties but Stewart insisted that she force her hands down her legs even lower than she would normally to really tighten her nates. He slipped his hand over them feeling the radiant heat and tightness of the skin over the firm muscles. Stepping back, he brought the strap down.

Thorpe almost jumped out of her shoes and yelped loudly. Before she had time to recover he brought the second and third stroke lashing down. As the new pain reached her mind, he shouted to stretch even lower and remain in position then handed the strap to the wardress. She soon realised the reason for the effectiveness of Stewart's strap as she handled it almost affectionately in both hands. With a conspiratorial smile to her male colleague she placed her feet well apart and brought the strap down yet again. It proved to be too much for Thorpe who leapt to her feet clutching her buttocks. A shocked silence went round the squad as the enormity of her refusal to remain in position sunk in. They knew full well that this could result in a group punishment for them all. Stewart broke the appalled silence:

"We now have two situations to deal with. Firstly, Thorpe's refusal to accept punishment. Secondly the need to award a group punishment to you all for one of your squad's refusal. I will now have to make a telephone call."

He left the now despondent squad in the presence of the wardress whilst he went to his office to, as he later put it, "phone a friend".

It was the duty Sergeant who answered. Stewart explained the problem and was soon reassured that the guardroom staff would take care of it. He then went back to the parade room and spoke to the squad.

"We will firstly finish the six strokes for Thorpe, then we will administer the six that she has earned for you all as the group punishment. The rest of you will then receive your six and finally, Thorpe will report to the guardroom where they will deal with her refusal to accept punishment."

It would be a long night for them all and one that Thorpe, in particular, would remember for some time.

To be continued.