Five
I was soon returned to the work group and was careful not to outpace my fellow
inmates. This brought the wrath of the guards down upon me and I was
continually taken aside and whipped for not working harder. Each day was a
lifetime of anguish and the evening brought the inevitable visit from one or
more of the guards.
I was surprised one day, when one of the guards came to me and told me that I
had a visitor. I was to return to the prison immediately. When I arrived back
at the prison walls, the matron was there to greet me and warned me that I was
to say nothing about my treatment. I assured her that I was not anxious to
experience her methods of penance anymore.
She handed me my soiled work shirt to put on. It was the first time I had worn
any clothing of any sort in more than two weeks. Gratefully, I pulled it on
over my shoulders and buttoned the one remaining button. Then she led me into
the visitors room where my father sat with a man I did not recognize.
"Kathy! My God, you look terrible! What happened to your hair?"
"I. . .I cut it off, Dad. It was too much to take care of here in prison.
Don't worry, it'll grow back."
"Oh, Kathy! You poor soul!" Tears streamed down his cheeks and I glanced away
for fear that I would be crying soon myself. "Your mother is worried sick about
you."
"Its OK, Dad, I'm alright," I said with as much conviction as I could muster.
'Who's that with you?"
I pulled my shirt together in front as I saw the man staring at my tits.
"This is Ramon Sequentes, a lawyer I've hired to get you out of here. Ramon is
familiar with the judge who sentenced you and thinks he can get him to commute
your sentence."
"How much did you pay him, Dad?" I asked with much misgivings. Ramon Sequentes
didn't look like he could get honey out of a jar.
"Don't worry about that, sweetheart," father replied. "Whatever the cost , we
want you back with us."
"I will need to come visit you to get further information on your crimes," Ramon
Sequentes announced.
'I bet!' I thought to myself. Probably spend half of what my Dad paid him to
bribe the matron to put him in my cell for the night.
The guard tapped me on the shoulder to signal that my time was up in the
visitors' room. I stood and bent over to kiss my Dad on the cheek. As I did, I
whispered, "Don't pay this fool any money; he's a fake. I'll just serve out my
time and be home before you know it."
With a smile that belied the terror I felt in returning to my cell, I waved
goodbye to my father. Little did I know that a heart attack would take him
before I ever saw him again. Unfortunately, he didn't take my advice.
* o0o-
The matron intercepted me as I was being returned to my cell.
"What did you tell them?" she demanded, her eyes burning holes through me.
"Nothing, matron," I replied earnestly. "I told them that everything was OK."
"You lie!" she exclaimed. "Take her downstairs!"
The guard grabbed my arms and turned me around. Half dragging, half pulling, I
was taken to a flight of stairs leading down below the prison. After several
flights we came to a narrow hallway that led to a heavy wooden door. Inside the
door, I gasped as I surveyed the array of devices designed to inflict torture
upon any helpless victim brought there. I began to struggle but it was useless.
Ripping off my shirt, the guard threw me down on my back atop a table that was
nothing more than an examination table for OB/GYN's. After fastening my wrists
above my head to the upper corners of the table, he lifted my legs into the
stirrups at the lower end and secured them there with straps. I was breathing
heavily when he finished and still struggled but the only movement I could
effect was minimal. With my legs spread apart and my sex completely exposed, I
feared the worst.
The matron appeared, hovering over me with the most sadistic smile I had ever
seen. "We have a little game we play with recalcitrants like you." She laughed
sinisterly as she reached beneath the table. As her hand reappeared, she was
holding the dreaded electric wires with alligator clips at the end which she
proceeded to attach to my nipples. I winced at the initial pain but was not
surprised to see my nipples harden in response. My stay in the prison was
turning me into a pain slut!
"You remember the shock treatment you received before, don't you?", the matron
asked rhetorically as she fastened the last clip to my nipple. I nodded
briefly, my eyes fixed on the two wires connected to my tits. "These will
remind you of your failures," she added, cryptically.
The table tilted slightly, raising my head a bit and as I stared down the length
of my body, I saw the guard wheeling a large container mounted on a stand toward
the lower end of the table. Invisible to me was a length of rubber hose
descending from the bottom of the container equipped with a plastic nozzle at
the tip. The purpose of the container became clear when the matron reached down
and shoved the nozzle up my ass.
"We start with a small amount of water; perhaps a quart. You will hold it until
I give you permission to release it. If you expel it before I say you can, the
consequences will be immediate and severe.
Each stage will require more water. Failure will mean that we start all over.
Do you understand?"
I nodded once again, although I was baffled by her comments. Stages?
Consequences? What was she talking about.
My confusion ended when I felt the water begin to flow into my bowels. The
discomfort was slight at first and I squirmed a bit as my gut began to swell.
"That's the first stage," the matron announced, shutting off the flow and
removing the nozzle. "You will hold it for five minutes."
The five minutes seemed like five hours as the water seemed to expand inside me.
A special additive apparently sensitized my inner muscles, causing them to
cramp. When the matron nodded, I immediately shot a stream of brown, lumpy
fluid out my ass with a loud grunt, accompanied by a fart. All sense of
indignity had long since been dispensed with, as far as I was concerned. My
only thought was to relieve myself of the painful tightening in my bowels.
Immediately, the nozzle reentered my ass and water began to flow once again.
This time I watched in agony as my belly began to swell larger and larger. When
I thought I would explode, the matron withdrew the nozzle. "Five minutes!" she
ordered as I broke out into a sweat. My body began to quiver and shake as I
fought to retain the enema. After what seemed an interminable period, she
nodded and I once again spewed the contents of my bowels, accompanied by loud
farts and gasps from my lungs. I realized I had been holding my breath for a
long time and my chest rose and fell as I gasped, filling my lungs once again
with precious oxygen.
"Please," I whispered; my throat raw. "No more, please! I didn't tell them
anything! You must believe me."
As I was mewling my pitiful pleas, I heard a door open and close. Stunned, I
saw the face of Ramon Sequentes appear between my spread thighs. His inhuman
grin told me all I needed to know: My "lawyer" was in cahoots with the prison,
just as I had suspected.
"How is she doing?" he asked, casting a glance at the matron.
"We just finished with two quarts. She has yet to fail."
"Good!" he exclaimed. "I'm in time for the good part."
I could imagine what the good part was going to be as the nozzle went back into
my ass and the water began to flow. As I shook and trembled, my belly began to
swell to unbelievable proportions. I began to sob in desperation while I fought
to retain the water. When the matron announced the time, it seemed like her
voice was coming from a thousand miles away. The room was a blur and the only
thing my mind could grasp was the incredible pain in my gut and the intense
desire to rid myself of it. Finally, my resolve gave away to my body and the
water exploded from between my legs. Instantly the electric current surged
through my tits, sending my body bouncing up and down on the table and my tits
flying every which way. My eyes rolled back into my head and my mouth opened
wide in one, long hideous scream. I must have fainted, because I awoke with the
matron waving smelling salts beneath my nose.
"A poor effort," she pronounced, peering down at me disapprovingly. "Now, we
start over."
