Poetic Justice

by Lobo De La Sombra

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© Copyright 2005 - Lobo De La Sombra - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; FF/f; M/f; prisoner; cuffs; chains; gag; collar; transported; captive; toys; reluct/nc; X

“A prisoner transfer?” Officer Rebecca Stillwater was shocked. “I’ve never done a transfer before. Not solo, anyway.”

“Oh, I know that,” replied Captain Giles. “But I think you can handle it. Besides, this prisoner is one I know you’ll take special care to deliver.” With a smile, he handed Rebecca a thick file. Printed atop the front was the name Jennifer Stark.

At the sight of the name, Rebecca smiled. Stark had been her toughest arrest yet. A burglar who didn’t mind having some fun with anyone unfortunate enough to be present when she broke into a home. Assuming, that is, that the unlucky one was a woman. At the time of her arrest, it was figured she’d robbed 32 homes and raped 17 women.

“You did come up with the plan that landed her,” Giles stated, “and did the undercover work to make it happen. So I thought you deserved to be the one who escorted Miss Stark to her new home.”

It had been Rebecca’s idea. A small but very nice house near the edge of town had recently been impounded on a drug bust. After gaining permission to attempt her plan, Rebecca had made a show of moving in, using furniture being held as evidence for other cases. Sure enough, less than a week later, Stark had broken in. This time, however, she was the one surprised, and after a fierce struggle, Rebecca had her arrest.

“Pick up an unmarked vehicle before you leave tonight,” Giles told her. “Tomorrow morning, you are to transport Miss Stark to the State Women’s Facility, see her processed in, then return. One more thing. Stark has proven herself to be a very troublesome prisoner. She is to be kept restrained and silenced at all times. And don’t let her out of your sight. She’s already come close to escaping three times. So keep an eye on her. Any questions?”

“No Sir,” Rebecca replied with a smile. This was one order she was going to enjoy obeying.

Next morning, two women stepped from the jail’s rear door. Similar in size and build, the main things that set them apart were their hair and apparel. Rebecca looked smart in her uniform, while Stark shuffled along in her gray uniform, hands and feet shackled and linked by a short chain, a leather panel covering her mouth. Stark’s raven locks formed a sharp contrast to Rebecca’s flowing auburn waves as she was led to the unmarked car.

Opening the door, Rebecca pushed Stark onto the rear seat, then carefully fastened the chain between her ankle cuffs to an eyebolt set into the floorboard. The seat belt and shoulder harness went across her bound wrists and arms, then tightened to secure her to the seat. Finally, a stout clip on the seat back was attached to a ring on the back of her gag, holding her head back. Smiling, Rebecca closed the door, then climbed behind the wheel.

“Are we comfy back there?” she asked cheerfully. Muffled sounds that could only be curses answered her as she started the engine. “Good. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us, and I wouldn’t want you getting too uncomfortable.”

About half way to the Facility, Rebecca saw she needed gas. Pulling into a station, she filled the tank, then pulled the car to one side, near the restrooms. Releasing Stark from the car, but not from her restraints, Rebecca led her inside. Leading her to one of the stalls, she pushed the prisoner inside, then stepped back. Stark, turned and glared at Rebecca, then quickly slammed the stall door closed.

“What’s this?” Rebecca teased. “Getting modest on me now? Well, hurry it up. You’ve got an appointment to tour your new home today, and I wouldn’t want you to be late.”

Rebecca turned away, smiling at the jangle of chains from behind the stall door. While secure, the restraints Stark wore were not exactly designed for convenience when it came to answering calls of nature. Still smiling, she stepped across the room to wash her hands. Leaning down, she splashed some water onto her face, then stood and looked in the mirror, only to see Stark standing behind her with an evil glint in her eye. As Rebecca began to turn, Stark wrapped one arm around her throat, choking her. Rebecca’s struggles ceased when Stark’s other hand, balled into a fist, smashed into her temple. She went limp, her body sagging in the grip of her former prisoner.

Rebecca woke to find her situation greatly changed. To her horror, she was now the one in prison gray, shackled, gagged, and chained to the back seat of her own vehicle. Behind the wheel, Stark now wore her uniform. At the sound of her muffled cry of protest, the raven-haired beauty turned and smiled.

“Bet you wonder how I pulled this one off, don’t you?” she asked. “Both my thumbs are double-jointed. Which means I can fold them both flat against my palm. Makes it much easier to slip out of a pair of standard cuffs that way. And, lucky for me, you had the keys to the rest. I do wish we had time to play, but a job is a job.” An evil grin made Rebecca shudder. “And I do have a prisoner to deliver, don’t I?”

Rebecca stiffened. To be outsmarted by this thief and rapist was bad enough. To be delivered as the prisoner she was supposed to have been safeguarding was infinitely worse. Oh, she could clear things up as soon as the gag came off, but she would come out looking like a complete idiot. Frantic, she struggled, but the restraints were too securely applied. No doubt about it, she was stuck here till someone released her. Someone, she realized with despair, like one of the guards at the Women’s Facility.

Smiling at the muffled sobs coming from behind her, Stark started the car and drove away.

The State Women’s Facility was a large, modern complex, close enough to a main road for easy supply and transport, but far enough removed from civilization to ensure privacy. Near the back of the complex was the maximum-security wing, where the worst of the female prisoners were kept under strict isolation. It was to this wing that the unmarked police car delivered its prisoner.

As soon as the car stopped, two guards appeared. Accepting the keys from the driver, they removed the prisoner from the back, leading her through a strong steel door into the wing. A smiling officer followed, ready to sign over the prisoner and collect the restraints once they were replaced by those used here. After asking the officer to wait in the first room, the guards led the prisoner into a second room and closed the door.

When the door reopened, the prisoner’s appearance had changed greatly. Gone was the gray uniform. Naked, she shuffled into the room, her ankles closely hobbled by leather cuffs connected by a very short chain. Cuffs on her wrists were connected to a sturdy belt around her waist. A wide leather collar encircled her neck. She wasn’t gagged, but though her mouth moved, no sound came out. Nodding toward the collar, one of the guards grinned at the waiting officer.

“Neat, huh?”

“Very. How does it work?”

The guard turned the prisoner to point out a small battery pack on the back of the collar. “There’s a small grid in the front. It sends small pulses into the throat, paralyzing the vocal chords. Harmless, and it saves us the trouble of trying to feed gagged prisoners.”

“Cool. How long can she wear it?”

“Indefinitely. So far, there’ve been no signs of any long term damage being done.”

“Great. Where can I get a couple?”

“Sorry,” the guard replied with a grin. “State property.”

The officer grinned in response. “Well, can’t blame a girl for trying. Now, show me where to sign, and she’s all yours. I need to get back.”

In her restraints, the prisoner sagged, mouth still working, trying to force out the words that would end her nightmare. But no sound emerged as she watched the officer collect the discarded restraints and leave. Alone with her guards, Rebecca wept.

Miles from the prison, Jennifer Stark abandoned the unmarked car. With nothing to replace it, she kept the uniform on. As she walked away, there was a smile on her face.

What a stroke of luck! Not only was she free, but that interfering bitch of a cop who’d arrested her was now sitting in prison in her place. And with that collar on, she’d never be able to tell anybody. And if anybody asked, the guard would report that Jennifer Stark had been safely delivered by one Officer Rebecca Stillwater, who had then left the Facility to return to her normal duties. Everyone would be looking for a missing cop, not an escaped prisoner.

Stark’s musings were suddenly interrupted as a strong arm wrapped around her waist from behind. Before she could react, a damp cloth was pressed over her face. One involuntary gasp brought with it the smell of chloroform, and the world faded to black.

* * *

Stark awoke to find herself in a small, dim room. Naked, chained spread eagle against a cold wall, securely gagged, she could only struggle helplessly and wonder what had happened. Her struggles were cut short when a door across the room opened and two women entered. At the sight of them, Stark’s eyes widened.

That both were beautiful was obvious. That both were extremely well formed was equally obvious, as both were dressed alike in matching black leather corsets, thigh high boots, and nothing else. One blonde, the other a flaming redhead, they moved to stand on either side of their helpless prisoner.

“In case you’re wondering,” said the blonde, reaching up to stroke one nipple, “you are here for a reason. We’ve been hired to, shall we say, entertain you for a while. You see, some friends of Jennifer Stark want you out of the way for a while, so they can figure out how to get her out of that prison. In the meantime, we get to do whatever we want.”

“And have no doubts, we know exactly what we want,” the redhead added, slipping her hand between the bound girl’s thighs. “We’ve got all sorts of clips and clamps and other toys we just can’t wait to try on you.”

“And a special surprise,” the blonde went on, holding up a thick black collar with a small battery pack attached to the back. “Our employer was able to get one of these stolen from a shipment headed for the prison. So you get the same silent treatment as Jennifer. Can’t keep that lovely mouth hidden behind a gag, now, can we, Officer Stillwater? We’ve got much better uses in mind for that tongue of yours.”

As the collar was wrapped around her neck, Stark struggled briefly, then sagged in defeat. If only they would let her speak, just for a second, she could tell them she was Jennifer Stark. But the collar would keep her silent, unable to correct this terrible mistake. Instead of being a free woman, she was now just as much a prisoner as she was to begin with. Then, watching the blonde strap on a huge dildo, while the redhead uncoiled a long whip, she began to wonder if maybe she would have been better off in prison.

In the warden’s office, the new prisoner sat slumped in a chair. By tradition, all new inmates were allowed one interview with the warden before they began their sentences. Standing behind her desk, the warden watched the new inmate as she spoke.

“Jennifer Stark, you are here because you have been convicted of several severe crimes. During your stay here, you will at all times be restrained and silenced. Any failure to follow the rules will result in sever punishment. This will be the first and last time you will be allowed the use of your voice until your release, so I suggest that whatever you say be worthwhile.” The warden then nodded to the attending guard, who removed the silencing collar from the prisoner’s neck.

For a moment, the prisoner silently worked her jaw, as if reminding herself how to speak. Then she looked at the warden with a bright smile.

“Thank you, Madam Warden, for this opportunity. I would like to use it to ask one favor of you.”

“What favor?” the warden asked, somewhat suspicious.

“Fingerprint me,” was the surprising reply. “If you do, you’ll find the prints identify me as Officer Rebecca Stillwater. I was overpowered by Jennifer Stark as I was transporting her here, and forced to trade places with her. Jennifer Stark is on the streets, a free woman, while you hold a police officer prisoner in her place.”

Stunned, the warden simply stared for a moment, then grabbed her phone to order a fingerprint kit delivered to her office.

* * *

In a cozy bar, two off-duty police officers relaxed over drinks.

“One of these days, Becky, you’re going to learn to listen to orders,” Captain Giles chided softly.

“I know, Stephen, you don’t have to rub it in. Thanks to me, Stark is free as a bird somewhere, and probably having the time of her life.”

“And what do you think I should do about this failure to follow orders?” Giles asked, a smile beginning to form. Rebecca smiled back as she finished her drink.

“I think I need to be punished, Sir,” was the smiling reply. Reaching to her waist, Rebecca handed him her own cuffs, then stood and turned away from him, hands behind her. As the steel encircled her wrists, she stretched her fingers back, lightly stroking his crotch.

“Oh, and Stephen,” she purred, “I actually wouldn’t mind if you rubbed something else in. Repeatedly, if you felt the need to.”

Smiling as she was led helplessly away to whatever erotic fate her Captain and lover had in store for her, Rebecca couldn’t help wondering if, somewhere, Stark might be enjoying herself this evening.

In an old building less than a mile from the bar, a naked, raven-haired beauty writhed in her bonds. Ravished repeatedly by her captors, forced to satisfy their lusts while allowed no satisfaction of her own, the helpless woman struggled vainly, her mouth silently forming over and over the words that would free her. Words nobody could hear.