Pentonbridge Pig

Chapter 18. Correction Concludes

"Right pig, station seventeen is a compound station. The inmate receives physical punishment applied by the technician and the inmate itself. The gel I am applying to your breasts allows conduction," Rosen explained as she stepped to the naked girl's side and began massaging her right breast. 

Emily gasped not only at the coolness of the gel but at the intimacy of the assault. Her soft, malleable breast was being squeezed and caressed, as the sticky substance was applied across the entire surface of her sensual mound. Her nipples tightened and Emily's cheeks blazed with the humiliation. It was because the gel was so cold, but she knew this excuse would mean nothing. It wasn't an excuse if it was the truth, she continued on her internal monologue, but she failed to convince even herself. 

Without a word Technician Rosen moved to her left breast and liberally covered it with the sticky substance. Emily wrung her hands desperately, though they obediently stayed in the small of her back. She had to remain in position and accept the attentions of the technician. She was dying to reach up and wipe the uncomfortable substance from her body and with each passing moment the compulsion became stronger, nearing the levels of mania when she was brought back to her situation by the technician's coldly clinical voice. 

"Arms in front pig." 

Emily did as she was told and caught a glimpse of the bizarre garment she was to wear as it was slid up her outstretched limbs. It was clearly a bra, the attention her breasts had received had made this evident without seeing it for herself. The was a small hole in the middle of each cup and arrayed around this, on the inside of the bra, were a series of concentric circles that seemed to be formed of copper wire. The straps that were fastened behind her were of a stiff leather and pulled each cup tightly in to her breast.  

Emily squirmed as the bra was seated, the soft flesh of her breasts forced into contact with each cup. It was comfortable enough, though the straps had been fastened a little too tight, pinching her skin at each side. This didn't seem right. As painful as it was to admit, the previous corrections had been straightforward corporal  punishment, even if the apparatus used to secure her was unconventional. Of course she was sure it was illegal but who would ever know? But this? She could say nothing but the nagging apprehension that was growing deep in her belly made her more and more anxious with each passing moment. 

A sharp pain erupted in her right nipple. Emily glanced down as best she could in her strict restraint and saw what looked like a pair of scissors attached to the tip of her nipple. She quickly recognised the medical clamps she had seen on the plethora of TV shows set in hospitals, and marvelled at how the small plastic pads at the end of each prong viciously squeezed the delicate bud of her nipple.  

Technician Rosen ignored the distressed girl's gasps and pulled the nipple through the small hole in the centre of the bra, ensuring the entire areola was drawn into sight. The process was repeated with her left nipple and Rosen quietly stepped out of her view once again. Just what the fuck was going on? Emily glanced down her body as best her bondage allowed, to see the lurid sight of each pink nipple protruding from the middle of each cup of the black leather bra. The nipples had swelled slightly as the hole through which they had been pulled was too small and they looked, to the mortified girl, like two alien growths sprouting from her chest. 

Emily watched in despair as Technician Rosen slid a small metal cap over her right nipple. The cap consisted of a central circle from which radiated numerous small wire spokes that cut into the tumescent nipples. The cap was clipped to a metal eyelet on either side of the exposed circle of flesh. A long insulated cord ran from the centre of the cap and was left to trail into Emily's peripheral vision. As the second cap was seated over her left nipple the fear of what was to come began to creep in upon her.  

Until her nipples had been manipulated she had stood immobile, dazed and unable to comprehend what was being done to her. Her brain had been shocked into motion by the casual way her nipples, a delicate sensitive part of all women, integral to their sensuality, had been so clinically handled. Now, the despondent prisoner of D-wing knew that something more than her sensibilities was about to be shocked.  

Emily's lower lip trembled at the thought of what was to come. She had never been shocked with electricity in her life. Well she had received those tiny static shocks from the car door when it was windy and they were bad enough. She clenched her hands into tight balls, praying that whatever was to come would be over with quickly. 

"A conductive brassiere has been fitted to your torso. Each cup contains sixteen separate wires, connected to each other creating a continuous conductive circuit. This circuit will be in contact with the entirety of your breast. The breast remains one of the best sectors for electrical stimuli. The current will enter your harness at six contact points: one at each nipple, and a further two at each breast, through which it will then be distributed through the circuit within which each breast is confined." 

Emily's trembling intensified as her impending torture was explained to her in detail. She silently begged for the technician to stop, to just be quiet and let her crawl back to her cell. She didn't want to hear any more. Her body ached in more ways than she could have ever imagined but her mind was frozen in the moment. Her nipples felt strange, as if they had swollen three times their size. It felt a little like the end of her period only intensified. She wanted to reach up and snap off the cap that squashed her puffy nipples and relieve the painful pressure.  

The exhausted girl clasped her hands firmly together as if this was the only way to prevent her from making such a cataclysmic mistake. She had no idea what would happen to her if she interfered with her correction in such a way and she was adamant that she did not want to find out. 

"This way pig," said Technician Rosen casually, as she detached Emily's collar from the metal pole.  

Emily trotted obediently behind her tormentor, feeling the dangling, insulated wire bump against her legs as she walked. Emily risked a glance at her body as she hurried across the room and was dismayed and humiliated by what she saw. Her chest looked like something from a science fiction movie, the cords dangling from each nipple undulating like some alien tentacle. Her belly glistened with the slime from her mouth and nose and the deep purple bruises on the inside of each thigh made her legs feel as if they were not her own. 

"To the right pig. No step back to the left, small step, now one back. Good. At attention pig," said Technician Rosen, a slight hint of exasperation in her tone. Emily snapped to attention, scared by the first sign of emotion from the imposing woman. She looked up as the technician extended a metal pole down from the ceiling. At the end of the pole was a rounded plastic tube that tapered to a point. A matching pole hung from the ceiling on her other side. 

Emily stood quietly, like a forgotten spectator, as the technician attached the cord from her left breast to a slot on the lowered cylinder. The small metal eyelet of the cord was slid over a matching metal pin and a small wingnut secured it in place. The tightness in Emily's belly continued to grow. Standing here, passively waiting for her torture to begin was starting to unravel the already frayed edges of her mind.  

"Now," said Technician Rosen as she finished securing the other cord, "reach up and touch the bottom of each unit."  Emily dutifully did as she was told and touched the bottom of each tapered cylinder. She found a small amount of give as her fingers pushed upwards, depressing the bottom of the unit a quarter of an inch. "As was discussed earlier, station seventeen is a compound station. The inmate will receive lashes with the 36 inch lace, this will satisfy the external component. The inmate is also required to keep both buttons depressed. If it fails to do so the contact is broken and the current will instead be sent into the harness. This station is designed to allow the inmate to feel a part of its correction. The station also allows the inmate to become an integral cog in the machine of its discipline." 

Emily's eyes widened in fear as the technician continued her horrific explanation. "A stroke will only be landed once both buttons are depressed. To prevent the inmate from attempting deception a small light," indicated by Technician Rosen, "will illuminate when such a state occurs. Right now pig, I have no doubt that the majority of that has gone in one ear and out the other but do you understand your role? You depress the buttons, if you do not a current will be affected to your breasts. Indicate your understanding." 

"Yes Technician," mumbled the dazed girl, still not quite able to fully comprehend the gravity of her situation. 

Technician Rosen immediately spun on her heel before swiftly returning with a strange contraption, sprouting all manner of black straps. She placed the leather hood on Emily's shoulder and reached for the unit to her left. "Depress the button, good. Now keep it so," instructed Rosen as she slowly raised the unit, sliding the metal pole back towards the ceiling. Emily slowly rose until she was standing on her toes. "Good, other side." 

Emily was soon stretched out as if crucified, her arms extended, creating a Y shape with her body as if she was exalting the heavens. Technician Rosen made a few small adjustments on either side before twisting both poles and securing them at the desired height. Tiny tears formed in Emily's already puffy eyes. It had been all she could do to keep the buttons depressed but she was also going to be whipped. There was no way she could avoid having her breasts shocked, a goal she had formed as the station had been explained. She knew it had been a ludicrously faint hope, but she was ready to grasp at any straw. 

The black leather harness was taken from her shoulder and opened in front of her, allowing Emily full view of the infernal hood. She could see it was a solid piece that would cover her entire head, removing any chance for her to see or hear anything while it was worn. A piece of plastic that looked for all the world like a football player's mouthguard protruded from the inside. Emily demurely and obediently, opened her mouth as the hood was raised. She was allowed to lower her arms while the hood was fitted, a concession provided more for the technician’s benefit than hers. 

The plastic mouthguard was forced inside her mouth filling the moist cavity with its foul plastic taste. The flared lip fit between Emily's teeth and lips, allowing her to close her mouth and seat her teeth firmly into either side of the moulded guard. A thick, flat projection crossed her mouth, pushing her tongue down forcefully. She could barely flex her tongue and as the hood was drawn over her face and underneath her chin, she realised she would not be able to open her mouth at all.  

In barely a second the frightened girl was plunged into darkness, soft pads pushing into each eye socket, preventing her from even batting her lids. The hood slid down over the crown of her head and was roughly secured by the series of laces at the back. As the hood tightened over her head, cutting out all light and sound, she began to panic. Her breathing became short and laboured. She could only breath through her nose and the air allowed through the two small holes situated beneath  each nostril was not enough. She could feel the pressure across her entire skull and tried to open her mouth to scream. Even to the hooded girl her scream sounded like nothing more than a muffled moan.  

Just as Emily was about to begin tearing the horrid hood from her head, her left hand was guided upwards. Her fingertips brushed the smooth plastic button and she immediately pressed upwards. She felt the small button move a fraction of an inch and stop. Her right hand followed a few moments later.

Emily stood on trembling tiptoes, her arms stretched above her head. She sensed a touch on her head and felt, rather than heard, the chain that had hung above her head, attach to the metal ring on the crown of the hood. She had wondered what the chain had been for. 

The realisation of just how dire a position she was in hit her like a physical force. She was completely blind. If she lost her contact with the button how would she ever find it again? She could flail blindly for an age before she found it again, all the while her tender breasts would be blasted with electricity. 

The attachment of the chain, obviously to help her stay in position, though not necessarily helping her to stay upright, had been the catalyst for the revelation. Her chest heaved with the paniced breathing she could not slow, only causing her to feel the restriction of the conductive bra more acutely. 

Emily had not stopped shifting her weight on her painfully stretched toes. The strain in her already tired calves was draining her final reserves of energy. In mid shuffle the lace, that had been mentioned but not shown, whipped across her belly. 

A barely heard moan came from the naked, hooded girl, followed by a sharper more intense exhortation. Emily’s left hand had dropped marginally at the surprise of the first blow, allowing the current to flow into her left breast. The lace had stung like a million bee stings but the pain of the electricity coursing through the tender mound on her chest was unbearable. 

Nothing would stop the pain except for her fingers back on that button. She fought the surging agony and pressed her fingers upwards. Her hand had mercifully only moved an inch and she was able to stop the flow of electricity after one short burst. Emily huffed through the small breathing holes in the nose of the mask, desperately seeking air, each breath hard fought.

She had to focus on her breathing, if she got out of control she would be left dancing a deadly jig, unable to find the buttons to turn off the current. She had eight more lashes to go, she tensed her jaw around the thick plastic gag and waited for the continuation of her torment.

Technician Rosen glanced at the light above Emily's head. The small red bulb was lit, indicating Emily had successfully recovered and depressed both buttons but it was a good policy to wait a few moments to be sure the inmate could maintain their composure. It was the only way they would learn. Her right hand swung slowly back, the small wooden handle, gripped loosely in her hand. The looping lace that extended 36 inches from handle, looked like a skipping rope fed back to the one handle.

Rosen inspected the first lash mark on Emily's belly as she prepared for her second stroke. A thin line a few inches long showed across her flank, opening into an oval shaped loop that sat almost perfectly around the inmate's dainty bellybutton. The technician made a decision for the next stroke and swept her arm forward in a powerful arc.

Emily squealed into the hood as the second blow flicked across her hip, the looped end impacting painfully on her bared mons. As the stroke landed, Emily forcefully pushed the buttons upwards, desperate to keep them depressed. She poured all the pain and anguish she felt into those buttons and was rewarded by a welcome absence of agony. 

Her plan worked for the next 6 strikes before a particularly viciously aimed blow wrapped around her inner thigh. The already abused flesh multiplied the pain to a level she could not absorb. Both hands flew to the damaged area. Her arms instantly flailed back into the air as the dreadful electricity blazed in her breasts.

Emily felt as if a thousand tiny blades were stabbing the soft flesh of her breasts. After two seconds of frantic flailing she lost control and her hands scrabbled at the delivery system of the pain. Her hands fumbled with the bra, attempting to pull the infernal garment from her body through sheer force alone. 

Her efforts were for nothing and she knew she needed to find those buttons. The pain had become a constant but had not lessened. Each breath became harder to draw as the mucus now running freely from her nose began to congeal around the small breathing holes. She had only moments to find those buttons or she was truly doomed.

She waved her arms blindly through the air above her head and by sheer luck her right arm hit the unit. She grabbed the plastic cylinder as if her life depended on it, quickly finding the base and pressing the button. The loss of current to her right breast clarified her mind and she soon found the unit on the left and depressed its button bringing a surcease to the painful current.

Emily's legs trembled uncontrollably as she struggled to hold the position. She could barely breath now and she knew this would be the end. She had no idea how many strokes remained but she knew she could stand here at this fucking station for a minute and no more. She was at her wits end as she felt the final, unbeknownst to her, lash land across her midriff, just below the leather bra.

The distraught girl felt a hand attempt to draw her left arm down and she fought with all her remaining strength to keep her fingers in contact with her lifeline. She must keep that button down. It was a losing battle as even at her most prepared, her strength would have been no match for the technician's.

Emily almost collapsed in relief when no pain arrived. She lowered her right arm and stood quivering, waiting for the hood and bra to be removed. Her arms hung limply at her side as she focused on drawing each ragged breath through the partially obstructed holes.

Something hard flicked the knuckles of her right hand and her numbed mind acted to the implied command, slowly pushing her aching arms into the small of her back. The chain was detached from the hood and the exhausted girl almost collapsed. Emily had not realised how much support the chain had provided her during the final, soul-shattering punishment.

The desolate girl stood obediently as the hood was unlaced and removed. The first clean gasp of air she managed once the gag had been removed from her mouth was like manna from heaven. She blinked away the tears that had pooled in her eyes, the harsh light of the room blinding her almost as efficiently as the darkness of the hood. A soft radiant heat burned in her face. The hood had been unbelievably hot and her entire head felt as if it was on fire. When she could finally see, Emily looked up straight into the face of Guard Jennings. The blood drained from her and her legs quivered with something other than exhaustion.

"Hello cuntface," the grinning Jennings greeted the dishevelled girl. "I see you have been your usual retarded self, unable to keep yourself out of trouble."

"Jennings," interjected Technician Rosen, "I allowed you to stay but keep out of my way until the inmate is signed out."

Jennings flicked her hair in mock disdain and stepped back to allow Rosen access to Emily's body. In her usual clinical manner the dreadful bra was removed in short order. Emily shrugged as the loops were finally slipped down her arms.  She was afraid to look at her breasts but the curiosity was too much, she needed to know the extent of the damage. She had beautiful breasts, they were something she had always been proud of and she feared they had been burnt or marked for life.

She lowered her head and looked hesitantly at her chest. The beautiful smooth curves of her breasts remained intact and unblemished. Emily could not quite believe the complete lack of marking on the tender mounds. They remained covered in the sticky gel and her nipples were red and swollen but her breasts were still her own. Fresh tears rolled slowly down her cheeks as the relief flowed over her.

"Pig, come and sign out," ordered Technician Rosen, holding out a clipboard. Emily obediently trotted over and reached for the clipboard and pen, only to have it snatched away. "Pig do you understand why you were sent to this room for correction?"

"Yes Technician," the young girl replied with complete sincerity.

"Do you accept the punishments administered were accurate to those requested?"

"Yes Technician," Emily whispered, humiliated at having to answer these questions. She had not requested to be tortured. She had not deserved it. None of it was her fault. It wasn't fair but she could not let her frustration or despair show. It would only be used against her and she had vowed to no longer supply fuel for the rampant sadism that was directed towards her.

"Sign."

Emily dutifully signed the paper and handed it back to Technician Rosen. The board had barely left her hands when Guard Jennings prodded her in the back with her long black shock baton, urging her towards the door. 

"Move it pig, playtime is over," hissed Jennings as she ushered Emily out of room 303, a room she would not soon forget.