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The Foundation
21
Public Exposure
“I can see her cunt.” The man wearing the headphones draped around his neck leant down to inspect the whore’s tight white underwear. The convict offered him a mild smile and thrust forward her vagina, as if to ease the man’s irritation.
“Are you sure?” Pamela Clayton pretended to peer at the convict’s pubic mound.
“I know a cunt when I see one, and I’m looking at one right now.”
“It’s only the impression of her genitalia,” Pamela lied. The vagina was shaven, but the scanty cloth could not obscure the two bulging lips.
“No, it is her … genitalia. You can see the cameltoe. She can’t appear on afternoon television wearing that outfit.”
“What about their breasts? Mr Atkins, you can see more flesh on a public beach.” Pamela and the producer both examined the dark blue singlet barely covering the upper half of the woman’s breasts with the address of The Foundation’s website running from erect nipple to erect nipple. The whore thrust her chest forward, as if to advertise The Foundation’s services to Atkins, running her hands along the underside of her breasts and cupping them as a present for him.
“You can have the free advert, but we also need to secure those sling bikinis. I’ll not have one of those huge breasts tumble out into view on my show. There may be children watching.”
The appearance of Carmel De Bois on the Samantha Tannon Show had caused major concerns for the producers, most notably the role of the bondage whores on a family show. The Foundation’s management had insisted upon at least a dozen convicts on the stage, and the rehearsal brought another round of skirmishes with Atkins, who insisted upon the girls standing out of camera shot during the interview. He was adamant that the girls were to remain still during the broadcast and there were to be no pelvic thrusts. Pamela, to earn a few close shots of the girls, compromised by changing the white thongs for safer black outfits.
Eventually, a troubled peace was established between Pamela and Atkins, fearful of a very expensive lawsuit from an outraged viewer. The convicts would wear the short tops and black thongs while the sling bikinis would be secured to the nipples by clamps. There would be twelve convicts on the stage, but they would be out of shot and would remain still throughout the interview. They shook hands on the agreement in a symbolic gesture of amity.
“Now, to seal the deal, we’ll take two whores.”
“Of course, Mr Atkins, take your pick.”
The producer strolled along the line of women before tapping a tall brunette in a sling bikini on the shoulder. He touched the arm of one of the blonde whores in her black thong and asked her to step off the stage.
“A blonde and a brunette, to suit all tastes.”
Atkins insisted upon binding the two whores despite Pamela’s promise that they would indulge in any act without hesitation.
“I know, but I think in chains they’re more … alluring.”
“I am sorry that our whores are insufficiently attractive for you, Mr Atkins.”
He only smiled as the shackles were fastened to the wrists and elbows. Pamela draped the keys over the necks of the convicts.
“Please don’t lose the keys. It’s ten dollars to replace each lock.”
Atkins took hold of the binding of the bikini costume and drew the straps tight between the whore’s buttocks, forcing her to part her legs as she uttered a muffled gasp of pain. He then left, holding the lacing in his fist as he led the girl away, the blonde in the thong drawn by the leash attached to her neck.
Pamela studied the whores on display, followed by Tanya tapping her baton.
“You sluts will smile ‘til it hurts, and when Miss De Bois walks down those stairs you will applaud as if your life depended on it. Now, practice your performance, and no mistakes, or it will be a month in the Consequence House.”
The whores rehearsed their entry, standing either side of the steps and unleashing a torrent of applause as Wendy treaded carefully down the stairs. Only after the third practice was Pamela convinced that they knew their positions and their roles and sent them to the prison van to await her call.
Meanwhile, Carmel sat in the large chair as the two ‘cosmetic consultants’ smoothed her cheeks with powder.
“You have great skin, Miss De Bois, but out on stage in front of the cameras the definition will disappear. You’ll have a moon face and that just won’t do.”
The sound of grunts and gasps drifted along the corridor. The studio’s workers were clearly enjoying The Foundation’s gift of two whores.
“Those whores are taking a terrible pounding. When I left they were trying to get a baseball bat up her arse. That must hurt.”
“It’s meant to hurt,” Carmel explained. “The purpose of these bondage whores is to allow men to indulge their darkest thoughts, to act out their basest desires.”
“Actually, it was the girls with the baseball bat, up the backside of that pretty brunette with long legs.”
“That’s to be expected,” her partner explained, shading Carmel’s eyes with thick black pencil. “If you’re cute with big tits you’re gonna get your arse ripped apart by those production girls. Jealousy, nothing but jealousy.”
“How can you be jealous of a bondage whore? They’re treated like animals, sex slaves, beaten and tortured just for kicks.”
“Would you be happy walking in there to find Doug mounting one of those whores?”
“No. It would be the same if I caught him wanking. Why not just do it with me?” The sound of the abuse grew louder.
“Someone’s giving her a good shafting.”
“Lucky girl.”
Twenty minutes later, Carmel walked down onto the stage, the flight of stairs decorated on either side by convicts loudly applauding her appearance and offering effusive smiles for the camera. A few minutes later they would passionately greet the arrival of Pamela, Tanya and Wendy in their uniforms, acclaiming the three women who had brutally tortured, humiliated and degraded them for the past year, transforming them into demeaned whores condemned to a life of sexual slavery.
Once the three prison officers were in place by the stairs the interview began with Samantha leaning forward in her familiar interrogatory pose. However, there were no harsh questions, and only a few awkward moments when Samantha addressed a handful of hesitant convicts at the back of the stage. The host also turned her attention to the guards, provoking raucous shouts from the handful of men in the audience. Wendy attracted special interest from the spectators, and her comment that she was serving her country by disciplining these criminal whores brought forth a wave of patriotic applause. The show ended with the twelve whores standing at the front of the stage, hands on hips before an approving audience.
An hour later, Samantha left her dressing room to bid farewell to Carmel and the three guards, bringing along the bound whore who had allowed Samantha to visit both her holes with an assortment of vibrators. The whore was now devoid of clothes as she tottered behind the celebrity, the largest tool still sunk deep into her anus.
“I’m sorry, it seems to be stuck.” Samantha offered only a meek smile as she turned the whore to show the offending bright green plug.
“Don’t worry, Miss Tannon,” Carmel replied. “We’ve lots of experience of extracting our toys. Even our girls, bless them, can only take so much.”
“Shameless. They use the word, but this one really has no dignity at all. Victoria and I had her performing the most … disgraceful acts, and all I heard was how much she loved all this. You are to be applauded for your efforts. I can’t imagine it’s easy getting them to sink so low.” She placed a hand on the exposed plug and twisted the tube, provoking a whimper from the whore.
“Miss Tannon, we work hard and we know what we’re doing. I can assure you that it takes months of consistent effort to take this specimen and transform her into a base bondage whore. If you would …”
“A whore is a whore is … a whore.” Carmel turned to see Bethany Carmichael standing by the stage door. “Anyone can turn these pathetic criminals into obedient whores.”
“Bethany, my dear, I was not aware that we had the pleasure. I thought you were roving somewhere in … Idaho?”
“Victor asked me to see him about an … interesting proposal.”
Carmel noticed the tension between the two women as Bethany strolled across the hall to examine the bound whore, writhing from the plug buried in her anus.
“You can easily get these wretched sluts to do anything.” Bethany was looking at Samantha, a glance of contempt and disdain, so she missed the agitated glares from the three guards and the Director. This was not the first time the reporter had questioned the talents of The Foundation’s staff.
Samantha chose to ignore her reporter and turned to the guards in their tight outfits.
“Did you know that we’re taking as many calls and email messages about you girls as we are about the whores?”
“I think it must be all those submissive men who want to be dominated by strong women,” Pamela replied, though she was flattered by the comment.
“It’s a shame there are only female prisoners available. Is there any chance that you might find some male criminals worthy of the same experience? I doubt I’m the only woman interested in seeing some male beef out there on the studio floor, wearing not much more than a smile.” She noticed Pamela and Carmel exchange a look before both women smiled.
“Miss Tannon,” Carmel replied. “We’ve been looking at the prospect of expanding our repertoire of artists for some time. We current have a few male guests at our studio who, we feel, may wish to extend their stay with us.”
“You can earn a lot of money if you can get your hands on some high quality hunks. I’ll be one of the first in line. I hear that Ramrod Ramon is spending a lot of time at The Foundation. I’m a devoted admirer of his work.”
“Senor Hernandez will, hopefully, be permanently joining us soon, but there are some other gentlemen who will also be serving The Foundation.”
“Don’t forget me when you decide to offer their services.”
“I promise you will have a special invitation. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we’ll get those whores in the van and we’ll go home.”
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