Officer Strong : First Weekend 2

by Inmate

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© Copyright 2004 - Inmate - Used by permission

Storycodes: FM/f; bondage; semi-consentual, prison, chastity, XXX

(story continues from )

Officer Strong : First Weekend (II : Saturday)
by Inmate
Officer Strong : First Weekend 2 by Inmate

After the strains of his day inmate 26 had finally fallen into bits of deep sleep   At some point in the night, he awoke to the sound of new prisoners being led into their cells.  How many others?  He tried to recount the number of cell doors being slammed shut, or gauge the sound of chains across concrete.  How many new inmates had been sealed in for the night?  

He realized that the belly chain was still on him, and that his lead was still tethered to the cell wall.  He realized that even if he were to free himself from his chains, he was still in his locked cell, at the end of a locked cellblock, underground, somewhere within one to two hours of his home.  Escape was not an option.

And that the chastity ring was still locked on to his penis, keeping him from enjoying his stay too much.  It was all still real.

In the morning he could awoke to someone calling out in the hallways.  “13 secure,” rang the voice, a male voice.  “23 secure.   21, 11 Secure” his voice bellowed as it came closer down the hall.  “3 secure.”

26 saw a male guard, in full uniform, peer into the cell across from him.  Looking back towards the end of the hall, the guard hollered “24 secure.”  Then, turning into 26’s cell, he completed his count.  “26 secure.”  

So that was the commotion.  The inmate roster for the day.  It seemed there were now 7 inmates in Officer Strong’s prison, the opposite of a weekend furlough.

The guard approached 26’s cell and leaned forward against the bars.  He wore tall leather boots and two pistols on his wide belt.  He  faced menacingly into the darkness of the cell, then let slip a slight, wicked grin.  “On your knees, 26.  Assume the position.”  Having no idea who this person was, he had no choice but to obey.  He crawled from under his thin blanket and knelt facing the wall, his nose touching the stone.  He heard a key turning in the lock, and his cell door sliding open on its rails.  The unmistakable sound of boots on the cement floor approached him.

The guard stood there for a few moments.  26 began to grow fearful, worried more at the unknown than the known.  Silence is a powerful instrument of control.

“Good boy,” said the guard, “I see the Warden didn’t waste any time with you.”  The guard approached nearer now, his gloved hand encompassing 26’s neck and forcing his head against the wall, slowly but with pure control.  The guard leaned into 26’s ear, “Just hope you don’t slip up when she’s not around.  I have different ways of punishing punks like you.”  The guard got up and began to walk slowly out of the cell.  

“And if you don’t believe me, just ask some of the other stupid shits like yourself who were dumb enough to land in here.”  The door slammed closed and 26 could hear the guard walking out through the end of the hallway, the entry door bolted behind him.

After a moment 26 crawled over to his bucket, the only toilet he had used since his arrival.  There was no toilet paper, of course.  In the wash pan he cleaned his face as best as the belly chain would allow, followed by stretching and moving around the radius of his tether.  He tried to get a glimpse across the hall at inmate 24, but 24 was fast asleep, or pretending to be.

Breakfast arrived shortly, the same slop as before, cold oatmeal and smashed fruit.  He assumed the position before the guard appeared, and turned around only after the guard had walked far away.  This time the tray was farther away, so he had to use his feet to reach it.  It tasted good, cold as it was, to get some food into his system again.  He was sure to clean his tray and make his cot before the ten minutes were up, pushing the tray as close to the door as he could before, hearing the guard returning through the cellblock, he resumed the position.

“Chain!” rang out the guard’s voice.  He heard a long chain being laid on the floor of the hall between the cells, then the sliding of a cell door, the sounds of chains being fastened, then another door opening, followed by the same sound.  Eventually the guard appeared at 24’s cell, where 26 could see the guard open the door, only to have 24 crawl out of the cell backwards, until he was out of sight.  He heard more chains being connected.  Finally the guard returned to 26, opened the cell and unlocked the lead chain from the wall.

“Hands and knees, 26.  Crawl out backwards and towards the front of the hall.  MOVE!”

26 complied, of course.  Once he was out of his cell, the guard stood in front of him, night stick in hand, eyeing 26 with that sly grin again.  “Halt.”  He yelled.

The guard then walked around 26, where he attached 26’s leg irons to a thick chain using a heavy padlock.  The guard then walked to the front of the hall.

“UP!”  He yelled, as all the prisoners rose in unison, heads pointed down.  26 realized all seven of them were now chained together at the ankles.


They followed the same path, through the hall and the torture room, up the stairs, and into the shower building.  Since they did not have their trays with them they proceeded directly onto the tiled area.

Officer Strong was there to great them, smiling at them all and examining them like slaves at auction, each a piece of equipment she owned.  The guard, assisted by inmate 13 (who was chained at the front of the line), attached the gang chain to ringbolts in the floor before Strong whipped them up and down the with powerful, cold spray.  Sponges of soapy water were passed through the line, each inmate doing the best job possible to clean himself while restrained.

26 now realized that each inmate was restrained or dressed uniquely.  Some wore prison-issue black and white pants.  Some wore belly chains and leg irons, some (like 13) wearing just the leg irons.  Some wore heavy collars.  And some seemed to bear bruises or scars on their backs.  He could not help but wonder what these stories were.

Then he realized that one of them was a woman.  Judging from her place in line and the morning’s roll call, she must have been inmate 23 or inmate 21.  She was about his age, tall and slender with long dark hair.  Her restraints consisted of light metal collar and wrist cuffs, though there were no chains on them in the shower.  Like the others, her ankles were secured to the floor.  Was it possible that he was beginning to feel aroused at seeing her chained up with him?  Or did he imagine her chaining him?

“26!” yelled Officer Strong.  He realized that he had been staring at 23 for too long.  Immediately he cast his eyes downward, not daring to meet her glance, and finished washing.  

“I see you’ve met inmate 23.”  Said the Warden.  “That will cost you later.”

She hosed them down as before.  When she turned off the hose, the inmates turned around and knelt on the cold tiles, their hands placed in whatever position their various restraints would allow, their noses touching the floor.  26 followed suit, keeping his hands as close to the small of his back as he could in his chains.  The guard walked around them and unlocked the floor bolts.  No one else moved.

“Inmates,” began the Warden, “you have a busy day today.  13 and 3, you will complete the work on Cell 4.  It will have an occupant tonight.  If you are lucky it won’t be you.”

He wondered what that meant.

“11, 23, and 24 will be on grounds duty.  Officer Mark will issue overalls in case of any neighbor activity.”

Her voice got louder.  “Any attempt to contact a neighbor will be punished at Level 4.”  she screamed, waiting for the echoes to die down before she continued.

“21 and 26 will clean my stables and tack.”

And with that she left.  Officer Mark first unchained 13 and 3, who seemed to know where they were going.

Officer Mark then threw down three pairs of coveralls on the floor.  11, 23, and 24 each stood up.  They were all restrained by handcuffs with 12” chains, and leg irons as well.  Each obediently took a few steps forward and locked their leg irons into a ringbolt against the wall, using open padlocks already in place.  They each then locked their handcuffs to ceiling chains above them.  

Once Officer Mark was convinced they were secure, he approached them and unchained their leg irons.  Putting a set of coveralls on the floor in front of each of them, they stepped into the open legs, followed by Officer Mark reattaching the leg irons.  One by one he unchained them from their handcuffs, leaving the open cuffs swinging in the air above them as they put on their overalls.  

Officer Mark then unlocked the padlocks keeping these three prisoners in place, each one in turn.  But before he walked away, he re-applied the padlocks to the leg irons to shorten the chain by a few links, reducing their steps from 14 inches to 10 or so. Then they three walked out of the showers in unison.

Officer Mark then approached 26.  “First work detail, eh boy?  Glad it’s on my watch.”  Turning to 21 he said bluntly “Keep an eye on this one.  Brand new.  If he runs, I’ll put your ass in the pit.”  21 never looked up, simply walked towards the door.  26 was smart enough to follow.

26 wished he had been with her, 23, instead of the stables.

The stables held 8 stalls.  Oddly enough, it had the same layout as the cellblock, though the stalls looked bigger than the cells.  There were 3 horses in the stables when 26 and 21 arrived.  Warden Strong was there bringing out her own magnificent horse.

“26, accompany me.” she commanded, handing him the bridle and walking out of the stable.  26 lead the horse and followed her.

“You were wrong to stare at her this morning,” she began, her voice soft and pleasing to the ear.  “You will have to be punished, as a lesson to the others, of course.  But don’t worry, I’m sure you will enjoy it.  And if not, well, that’s why we have restraints, now isn’t it?”  She laughed.

“Hands and knees.” she said.  Dropping to the ground, 26 felt her using his naked back as a step as she mounted her saddle.  He knew not to get back up yet.  “I am pleased with your progress so far, 26.  You will be an excellent addition to my prison.”  She let the thought sink in to his weakening mind.  Her voice changed to a stern and cold note.  “But 23 is mine.  Keep your eyes, and anything else, off of her.”  With a crack of her whip, on his back, she rode off.

Officer Mark approached the stables as 26 and 21 were beginning to clean.  He removed 26’s wrists from the belly chain (one at a time, of course) secured them in a pair of work shackles with 24” chains, as with the previous day’s work.  The leg irons stayed on, though he was given slipons to wear to protect him from the straw.

“If it were up to me, I’d make you go barefoot, shit.  But the Warden said she’d rather have you work like this.”

Many times that morning 26 tried to engage 21 in conversation.  21 was always weary of this, and looked around nervously before signaling that they were not supposed to speak.

Finally, while they were sweeping out the last stall, 21 motioned for 26 to move closer to him.

“I have been here for 8 months,” he began, “and believe me, no matter what she tells you, no matter what she promises, do not come back here, ever!”

He continued sweeping the stall away from 26.  Looking back he said only “Only the ones with pants are allowed to speak to each other.  They are too far gone to think of escape!”  21, of course, was wearing pants, his prison issue stripes.  “Too bad she already has you in the chastity ring, but don’t let her fool you – better to wear that forever than to come back here!”

Warden Strong rode past the stables at a canter.  21 retreated to the other side of the stall.

26 continued to sweep.

The day went by better than the previous one.  The stables had their own water supply, and after seeing 21 drink from the taps, 26 felt comfortable doing so as well.  And, although it was a bit humid today, at least he was not out baking in the sun like yesterday at the septic tank.

The 3-inmate team come by for a few hours, along with Officer Mark, to make some repairs on the outside of the stables.  The building looked as though it had recently been renovated.  26 realized it was all inmate labor.  Not a bad deal, if you can find the inmates.  Like Strong could.   Voluntary slave labor.

26 did his best to concentrate on the stables, but every few minutes he found himself stealing glances over at 23.  She was sweating through her coveralls already, her hair traced with sawdust from the beams they were working with.  She really was beautiful.  But each time he found himself staring he suddenly remembered Strong’s words, and his fear of the unknown reprisals took the better of him as he returned to shoveling manure and raking new hay into the stalls.

Lunch was delivered by Strong.  She rode in to the stables and corralled all 5 of them into one stall.  The stall was in a corner of the stables, and was completely enclosed, unlike the other stalls which had one side which could be easily be climbed over.  She dropped off a bag with some sandwiches and fruit before locking them into the stall and leaving Mark to supervise.  

In the heat of the day everything tasted wonderful.  This was civilized fare to the starved inmates.  26 was beginning to enjoy his surroundings.  He realized that he had even relaxed some – the most since his arrival on Thursday night.  This, he realized, was what he had wanted form his chosen incarceration.  If only he could get out of the chastity ring long enough.  And the chastity ring was making itself known with 23 in the stall.

It was late in the afternoon when Officer Mark came running in to the stables, jumped bareback on a stead and galloped out in a flash.  Neither 26 nor 21 had any idea what was happening.  But by then their work was mostly finished, with 21 showing 26 the finer points of polishing saddle tack.

As the dust from Officer Mark’s ride cleared in the low-angled sunlight of the door, 26 could hear 21 mutter his breath, “Now there will be hell to pay.”

Officer Mark rode back in some time later, with 24 chained behind him.  His overalls were stained with grass and mud, and the end of his chains were in Mark’s hands.  “Brush my horse and give her some water,” Mark yelled before turning to 24, “and I will get you ready for tonight’s punishment.”  24 looked both terrified and hopeless. 

“Good news, 26!” said Officer Mark.  “Tonight you will witness a Level 4 punishment.  The offense is attempted escape.  Good time for you to learn a lesson, boy.”

He wrapped the chain around 24 and forced him to the ground.  “Crawl ahead, shit.  Let’s pay a little visit to the waiting room!”

24 dropped to his knees, sobbing, and began to scream. “No, NO!  OFFICER MARK, PLEASE!!!”  But Officer Mark was quick to anger, and even quicker with the stun gun he was carrying.  Curiously, 26 noticed that Officer Mark was no longer carrying his pistols.

“You two, pick this shit up and carry him with me.”  they were ordered.

They picked up 24 and followed officer Mark to the “waiting room.”  It was a small side room off of the showering platform.  There were some small glass-block windows high up in one wall.  Various restraints, X’s and padded horses filled the small space.  The three placed 24 on the X-frame, and secured him tightly with straps at his ankles, knees, hips, waist, chest, neck, shoulders, elbows, and wrists.  Officer Mark placed a gag in his mouth and locked a hood over his head.  Then they left him there, sobbing and waiting.

They were showered and returned to their cells.  Those inmates who wore clothes were given clean pairs before returning.  They were led back to the cell block chained together again.  26 felt this unnecessary, as his body ached from the day’s labor.  He could no more easily run away than fly, especially back in his belly chain and irons.  24 was not with them.

Dinner was served as usual, by inmate 13 again.  He gave 26 the same look as yesterday.  “You stupid shit.”  But 26 could not see it, as he was kneeling against the wall.  But he knew. Sometime after dinner he heard someone approaching.
It was Strong and Mark.  “26, position.”  He complied.

“Bring him,” said Strong.  Officer Mark entered the cell and locked a leather collar around 26’s neck.  “On your feet, shit.” he said, forcing 26 up and forcing him to walk ahead, down to the punishment room.  Officer Mark left the door open, “so the other shits can hear you cry,” he explained.

He connected the collar to a chain in the ceiling, then placed his wrists into a spreader bar, one by one, also locked above his head.  His feet were spread similarly.

“Your offense was minor, but you must be taught obedience nonetheless,” informed Strong.  “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Warden Strong.”  He was blindfolded.

She played with him at first, slowly caressing his naked body with the coils of her whip.  He felt the braids snake around his balls and up his crack, then around his throat and down his chest.  She knew how to wind him up.

The first blow was like a shock, and he could not prevent the yelp from escaping.  The next three were similar in harshness, but less surprising.  Still, he could barely keep his silence.  

On the next four blows he cried out in earnest, as she moved down to his thighs and ass.

The final two shots landed on his chest and abdomen.  His moans were terrible.

Officer Mark took him down and returned him to his chains, then to the cellblock.

Once back in the block 26 saw that the other inmates were chained outside their cells.  Leg irons went from one ankle, into the cell and past a few bars, then onto the other ankle.  The inmates’ backs were to the cells, so they were facing outward.  Their hands were cuffed behind them, inside the cells.  Officer Mark ensured that 26 was restrained in a similar fashion.  

All were naked.  Well, he couldn’t say all, as not all the inmates were there.  13 and 23 were absent, and 24 had yet to return.  

The missing soon appeared, as 13 and 23 literally dragged 24 into the hall.  24 was grunting or moaning,; 26 was sure that it would have been much louder had it not been for the gag.  They chained the naked wretch to the outside of cell 4.  Officer Mark applied the stun gun again to 24’s abdomen, quieting him temporarily.  He then chained 13 and 23 to their cells like the others.  Retuning to 24, he lashed the inmate’s arms, legs, chest and neck to the cold bars using leather cords.

“CELLBLOCK SECURE FOR PUNISHMENT!” yelled Officer Mark.  He stood at attention in cell 4’s open doorway.

Momentarily the Warden came returned.  Her knee-high block boots clung to her white riding pants.  She wore a uniform top with a Corrections insignia.  Her belt carried pouches for a multitude of gear whose purposes 26 could only imagine.  With an air of great power, which she wore even more confidently than normal, she stood in front of 24.  Her beauty was astounding.

“Inmate 24,” she began, in a voice loud enough for all of them to hear clearly, “you have been found guilty of attempted escape.  You will be punished according to the regulations of this facility.  Accordingly, you will be sent into Level 4 confinement.”  24 let out a whimper, barely able to raise his head from his exhausted position.

“As you know, the inmates here are all kept under my control voluntarily.  As such, any attempt to escape would jeopardize the privacy, and therefore the safety and security, of my inmates.”  She grasped his chin and pulled his face closer to hers.  “And nothing is allowed to jeopardize the security of my inmates, 24, as you very well know.”  Her voice became quieter, and more menacing.  “After all, if any of you were ever to escape, then our little prison here would no longer be in my complete control.  And you know how much I like control, don’t you?”

She slapped his face with tremendous power.  His lip trickled blood.

“Therefore, as attempted escape is one of the most serious infractions possible at this facility, prior to your Level 4 incarceration I will also extract a Level 4 ‘insurance policy’ from you.  Just so we understand each other in the future.”  

24 looked on with helpless terror as Officer Mike removed the syringe from his belt.  The leather lashings held 24’s arm absolutely immobile as the Officer proceeded to fill 4 small glass vials with 24’s blood.  Each was labeled, then placed in a small case in the cell.

A pair of electric clippers came next, trimming 24’s hair down to the scalp in a matter of seconds.  Some of these trimmings were also labeled, in a bag, then placed in the case we well.  24 wept openly.

“I now have plenty of your DNA samples on file, inmate.  Let this be a lesson to you : if at some point in the future you should so much as breathe a word about our facility to anyone in the outside world, your genetic material will show up at some local, heinous crime scene, and you will pass the rest of your miserable life in a real prison, and not safely in solitary either.  And you would much rather spend it with me, wouldn’t you?”  She laughed.

“A pity,” Strong said, “as I find it hard to believe that a man with that haircut can convince the bank to approve a second mortgage.  After all, you did schedule a meeting there for Monday afternoon, didn’t you?  Didn’t you, little 24?”  24 sobbed as he nodded his head.  “Of course you did,” the Warden continued, “but don’t worry, because as you know a Level 4 punishment will keep you here for an additional week.”  24 screamed into his gag, his face purple with blood, his breath coming in short spurts, nostrils flaring.  “I have no idea what you’re going to tell your boss.  Big man like you not showing up to the office for a week.”  The steel and leather restraints were cutting in to his body, but his attempts were futile.  

“Don’t worry, we’ll place in a call for you.  Besides, if we didn’t the police might be looking for you, and that would risk the security of my facility, wouldn’t it?”  Her gloved hands moved up and down 24’s body, caressing him as the teardrops streamed out from under his blindfold.  “I think we’ll tell your secretary that you’ve had a little breakdown, and that your doctor has recommended a week of observation at a private psychiatric facility.”

The Warden leaned fully into 24’s body, pressing herself against the helpless man and grinding her hips into his pelvis.  “The good news is that they won’t come looking for you.  The bad news is I doubt you’ll get that promotion to VP next month.”  24’s moans of despair echoed throughout the hall.

“One last thing before you go‚Ķand I’ll be back to say goodbye in a few minutes.” 

She left the cellblock as Officer Mark unchained 13, who assisted him in removing 13 from his bonds, then re-chaining with his back to the outside.  13 was returned to his place.

Strong appeared again with her cane.  It looked lightweight, but that would only give it more curve, and therefore more force at the end.

“24, did I say one last thing?  I meant 50.”

24 shook violently as he struggled to free himself.  “But first, a lesson to the rest of you, to dissuade you all from the very thought of escape.  Remember that your fellow inmates will be punished as well.” as she applied 5 strokes of the cane to the other inmates’ chests.

5 strokes.  Each stroke, landing on the chest, is an unbearable agony.  But that is why they have the chains, now isn’t it?  The pain is unimaginable, far beyond the whip’s effects.  And yet there is another blow to come, and another, and another!  The agony cannot be described.  

By the time she was finished with 26, no one really cared what happened to 24.  All they wanted was to crawl back in to their own cells and escape (escape into a cell – how odd) from the terrible cane.  

But for the pain they all endured, Strong inflicted 10 times the amount on 24.  Some blows fell in rapid succession.  It seemed as though 24’s lungs would burst, so strained were his agonizing cries for mercy.  He found none, and by the 30th blow he merely hung limply in his bonds, the tears unchecked, as Strong brought down the cane with all her might, her eyes bulging and fixed on any part of 24’s body that did not yet bear her mark.  Looking up carefully, 26 noted that even Officer Mark began to turn away from the spectacle, wincing.

After the 50th blow, 13 was released to assist Officer Mark in taking 24 down from the wall.  The pain of being removed must have been tremendous.  His hands were cuffed behind him with heavy, hinged cuffs.  His ankles were secured with irons, padlocked together so he could not walk.  A hood was placed over his head, the nose open as well as a small hole at the mouth, but otherwise sealed.  It locked on with a padlock at the heavy attached collar.

They dragged him inside cell 4.  26 could no longer see the action, only hear the sounds of chains and a heavy metal-on-metal sound.  24 screamed once more, the sound more audible now without the gag.  He could hear some machinery, like a pulley, then a thunder-clap of steel on concrete.  Some more heavy metal, then the closing of a cell door, then silence.  

13 was lead to his cell, then locked in.  Strong departed.  Officer Mark systematically unchained the prisoners once by one, placing them back into whatever restraints they normally wore before locking them in to their cells.  23 looked up at 26 as she crawled back to her cell.  The look pierced him.

26, as always, was the last.  Officer Mark first unchained one hand, then secured it in the belly chain cuff before unchaining the other hand.  Then he unchained one ankle, snaked the chain out of the cell, and re-attached it.

“Let’s go, 26”

26 returned to his cell and assumed the position.  Officer Mark chained a lead chain from the wall to the leg irons.  More movement now than before, 26 thought.  Though he realized that after the whipping and the caning he would not have had enough strength even to crawl back up to ground level.

“You’re learning quickly, shit,” Officer Mark said as he slowly began to caress 26’s ass with his gloved hands, prodding him intimately with his nightstick.  26 began to shiver.  

The gloved hand now approached 26’s mouth.  A finger forced it’s way in.  26 began to suck on it, which only invited it in deeper.

“Good boy, 26” came the voice, as his leather-clad crotch pushed its way against the back of 26’s head.  “You’re real fine.  Too bad I have to go.”

After the cell door crashed closed behind him, 26 could only hear, “But maybe another time, shit,” followed by the turning of the heavy brass key in the lock.   

Another night passed.