FEMALE CORRECTIONAL CENTRE.
Chapter 1.
Stewart had always been a successful manager of the firm at which he worked.
Unfortunately his manner of dealing with the female staff left, in their
opinion, much to be desired. His attitude led to his downfall when new laws were
introduced against sexual harassment. Female sexual harassment that is. Within
days of the new law being on the books the 38-year-old Stewart was brought
before the magistrates on a charge concocted by a group of females who worked
for him. All the evidence was there of "inappropriate touching", "lewd comments"
and "suggestive behaviour". The Lady Magistrate took only minutes to find him
guilty and sentence him to six months correctional training. Interestingly, the
new laws permitted sentencing him to serve the time in a women's jail where it
was felt that he would be under the closest supervision of the sex that he had
offended against.
He was transferred the Female Correctional Facility under the escort of two
young uniformed policewomen. The driver, the elder of the two, was around 24
tall and slim with her dark hair in a severe bun. The other was a bubbly
fair-haired girl of around 20 with a full figure. She sat in the back next to
Stewart who had his hands uncomfortably handcuffed behind him.
30 minutes into the drive he complained that his restraints were uncomfortable.
He was told to lean forward against the safety belt, the escort next to him
reached behind his back, and hit down on the ratchet of the 'cuffs with her hand
so that they tightened appreciably.
"When we require any comment by you...we will let you know. In the meantime
shut-up" she snapped and pushed Stewart back against the seat.
During the drive he learned much of the methods in use at the facility, from the
conversation between the two guards. He had of course read in the papers and
seen on the TV news about the newly established female correctional centres with
the rigorous regimes. Somehow, the fact that spartan conditions, rigorous
military style discipline and corporal punishment were the techniques employed
in the new jails had hardly interested him, but now, to his horror, he was about
to experience the new system himself.
The two policewomen discussed how the initial recruitment of the wardresses had
been from the military correctional facilities. Females up to the age of forty
years with experience of inflicting harsh discipline, marching drill, forced PT,
clothing inspections, room inspections and body searches were selected and given
further training in all aspects corporal punishment. They then recruited younger
staff from the age of 18 years and trained them in the skills they would need.
All were given ranks, from Junior Wardress and Senior Wardress to that of Chief
Wardress and the top rank of Governor. The Governor did not wear the dark grey
uniform of hat, jacket with rank bars, short pleated skirt and knee boots.
Instead she preferred a business suit. It seemed that the object of the centre
was to teach total obedience to authority and the inmates were specially
selected from those females aged between 19 and 45 who were sentenced to jail
terms for offences that involved any lack of respect to the authorities.
Stewart heard how the rules that were laid down were deliberately numerous and
detailed to provide a challenge to the inmates and ample scope to the staff to
find fault. Dress regulations alone took up two pages of small print. For every
subject on the training syllabus and every event in the day at the centre the
prisoners clothing was stipulated down to the smallest detail. The type and
colour of the girl's bra and panties, which skirt, type of blouse, bare legs or
stockings, footwear, cleanliness and condition of clothing and so on. The
policewoman who was driving said how on her last visit she had witnessed 20
female prisoners undergoing physical training. They were all wearing just a
simple white vest, short white skirt with small white bikini panties underneath
and trainers. One of the junior wardresses was in charge giving the orders.
After only ten minutes most of the inmates were gasping and sweating heavily.
She even began to feel sorry for the girls particularly those with the larger
breasts, as when exercises were performed such as star jumps, it was obvious
that brassieres were not the required dress for this lesson!
"And, after 40 minutes of that, just imagine the average female trying to pass a
cleanliness check on the panties" she concluded.
The other policewoman, a large breasted female herself, shuddered at the news,
then, more to comfort herself said that they only had themselves to blame and no
one expected it to be a holiday camp. The other guard agreed and said that the
last rule listed under "Dress Regulations" stated quite clearly that any
wardress could at any time carry out a spot check of a prisoner for both
correctness of dress and cleanliness of underwear.... and was only to be
expected at a military style facility. If the prisoner couldn't follow those
instructions what could they follow? Then added with a giggle that on a hot day
like this sitting for hours on a leather car seat, she might herself have a
problem passing a panty inspection even without 40 minutes punishment PT under
some bossy eighteen year old bitch!
"What happens when one of the prisoners fails a panty inspection?" the younger
girl asked, "I suppose they get extra work or something?"
"You must be joking " replied the other policewoman " They are charged with the
offence, brought before a disciplinary committee and sentenced to a
thrashing...usually with a strap across their naked buttocks".
"Good grief" she retorted with a gasp "What happens if they commit a serious
offence against the rules?"
"What do you mean by serious?" asked the driver "In having dirty underwear they
have already disobeyed one order. From what she had been told they have an
ascending scale of punishments that include formal thrashings with the cane so I
suppose a dose of the strap is regarded there as pretty minor ".
About two hours from starting out they pulled into on the large motorway
service areas for a toilet break. The policewoman driving had mentioned her fear
of having a prisoner escape custody and the repercussions that would follow.
Both had decided not to let "This bastard" out of their sight. The policewomen
slipped their batons back in to their belt loops, placed their uniform hats on
their heads and led the handcuffed male passed the restaurant area and a 'bus
load of jeering school girls and into an empty disabled toilet that could easily
accommodate the three of them.
"You go first", said the younger of the two guards. She then roughly turned
Stewart to face the door, drew her baton out of the loop on her belt and pressed
it across the back of his neck forcing his face against the white wall tiles. He
heard the sounds of a skirt being raised and then of panties being lowered
followed by the quiet hiss of a bladder being relieved. Following the sound of
the toilet paper dispenser being pulled, the sounds then reversed themselves.
He had no idea of how much longer the drive would take and the sounds of running
water made his own bladder feel even fuller.
"Ppplease Miss" he stuttered. "May I be allowed to relieve myself".
"For heavens sake man can't you hold on for another two hours?" said the driver
poking him in the back with the end of her baton.
"Better not risk it" commented the other guard. "We certainly don't want him
pissing himself.... have you got the gloves ?" The driver searched in her
handbag and handed over a pair of latex surgical gloves to her companion.
"Stand still, and don't you dare move" she said. With one guard holding his
handcuffed arms the other unzipped his flies undid his belt and pushed his
trousers down to his knees. She then snatched his pants down and casually caught
hold of his penis using it to pull him over to the pan. She used both hands, one
holding his foreskin, the other round his testicles. Savagely she shoved his
foreskin fully back and pointed the tip towards the target. "Get on with it
then" she said. Blushing scarlet, Stewart relaxed and the urine flowed. When he
had finished the pants were pulled up and then his trousers. When the belt and
flies had been fastened the guard removed her gloves and threw them in the bin.
The driver, having relieved herself first offered to collect sandwiches for the
rest of the journey. The younger guard unlocked Stewart's handcuffs, pulled him
over to the disabled rails around the toilet then handcuffed him to the lower
rail with his back to the pan, with him half squatting to take the strain off
his sore wrists. She locked the door behind her departing colleague and calmly
proceeded to use the toilet for all the world as if Stewart was merely a dog
chained to the rail. The sounds indicated to Stewart that it was more than the
girl's bladder that was needing relief. In his cramped and low position it was
only seconds before his nostrils confirmed what his ears had told him. The
toilet paper dispenser finally stopped rattling and the girl stood up, arranging
her clothes. As soon as she had washed her hands she disconnected Stewart form
the rails, quickly refastening the handcuffs and led him outside where the other
girl was waiting.
"Sorry I took so long in there " she laughed "That curry I had last night
finally caught up with me, you were lucky to be out of the toilet doing the
shopping!". Batons swinging and metallic equipment rattling on their belts they
led Stewart back to the car, each holding one arm up just below the elbow in a
fierce uncomfortable grip. As they settled in the car Stewart failed to move
fully to his side of the rear seat. The young girl calmly drew her baton and
rapped him hard across the knee with the words "Move it, its bad enough having
to sit next to scum like you without having your knee touch mine!". Knee and
wrists throbbing, the journey continued.
......to be continued
