The Tour

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

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The Tour

(****, F/F+, Intense, nc prison discipline, severe)

A juvenile takes a tour of a strict prison. (Approximately 4,585 words. Originally published 2000-03.)

I'm a good girl. Really, I am. I've just been in a spot of trouble lately. I hung out with the wrong people, that's all. A few of us were stopped by a cop while cruising one night, and Jamie slipped her "special" smokes into my handbag. The cop found them, and next thing I know, I'm in court before an ancient judge who I swear hasn't smiled in this century. He refused to listen to my arguments and protests, reminded me of my arrest last summer for shoplifting a swimsuit, called me a "delinquent," and sentenced me to six months in Juvenile hall.

Juvie's not so bad. That is, if you like being told when to shit and having to ask for permission to fart. They regulate your entire life. If I keep my nose clean, I'm outta here in two months. Ain't no way I'm screwing up, either. Not after yesterday.

They bussed a whole gang of us girls out on a tour of the new women's prison yesterday morning. The Abbyville Penitentiary for Women is the official name, but everyone knows it as the Abyss. The Abyss is supposed to represent the future of prisons, part of the state's push to make prison an uncomfortable experience. Well, let me just say that for once the government's succeeded at something. If the tour was supposed to make us Juvie's think twice about the direction of our lives, it worked.

They woke us up at five in the a.m. By five-thirty we were on the bus, though most of us weren't awake yet, and all of us were grouchy as we'd been allowed no shower or breakfast. There were about twenty-five juvies, plus Madame Kiraly, head of Juvie, and her two assistants, Gloria Browne and Carly Myrick. The trip up was uneventful, except for several girls who woke up needing to pee and Kiraly wouldn't stop the bus.

"You should have gone before we left," she said sternly.

"But we didn't have to go then," whined one of the girls, a bitchy coke-head named Cheri. I laughed, watching her pout and writhe uncomfortably in her seat for the next hour.

We arrived at the prison shortly after 7:30. We were briefly greeted by the prison warden, a stern, imposing woman who might have been attractive if she'd stopped glaring at us like we were pickpockets caught red-handed. She introduced us to her second in command, a Miss Wu, who was to be our guide. Miss Wu was a gorgeous oriental girl, no more than five-four, but she spoke and acted like she was seven-foot-eight.

"All right, ladies, welcome to Abbyville Penitentiary. To begin your tour, we're going to start at the showers. Last breakfast is at eight, and the 7:30 group is in the showers right now. You will follow single file and observe."

She was carrying a leather riding quirt which she used as a pointer, and we all followed her inside a long, low-lying building with the silence of the dead. I supposed you could say we were a bit intimidated. Cheri even forgot that she needed to pee.

I had assumed group showers at Juvie had prepared me for those at the Abyss, but I was wrong. Way wrong. For one thing, we don't have wardens watching and judging our performance.

There were four of them, all stout angry women, and they all carried heavy leather straps. A door to our right, just a few feet from where I stood, suddenly opened and about four dozen naked women filed in, hands on their heads, sullen looks of resentment and embarrassment on their faces. One of them appeared to notice us, her head turning slightly.

"Keep your eyes front, slut!" barked a guard, and let fly with her belt. I watched in disbelief as the leather wrapped around the woman's hip and caught her full across her bare ass. She yelped and quickly faced away from us. Her pale ass quivered with a bright red blotch across it.

"Okay, first group in the showers!" shouted a guard, and water began spraying from the shower heads along the far wall.

There were only about a dozen heads, so the rest of the women stood and waited their turn while the first ones walked forward into the spray. The water, it seemed, wasn't heated. The women gasped and moaned, but no one complained. It was obvious why. The four guards were free with their straps, taking any excuse to snap them across any exposed skin they could find.

Everyone gets at least a few licks during her morning shower, Miss Wu explained to us quietly. "It helps keep them under control."

Several of the women got more severe punishment. One nervous woman dropped the bar of soap. Immediately one of the guards was behind her, ordering her to kneel with her hands behind her head and pick it up with her mouth. The guard was brutal with the leather, lashing her buttocks at least a dozen times while she struggled to catch the slippery bar with her teeth.

Another woman apparently spoke, for I suddenly heard a guard reprimanding her for talking. He gave her six or eight juicy stripes and she was very quiet after that.

Several women failed their cleanliness tests. As each stepped out of the shower, she had to be inspected by one of the guards. The guards were thorough, not only checking to see if she'd washed behind her ears, but between her legs and even her asshole! If a woman failed, she was lashed and sent to the back of the line, where she had to stand, cold and dripping wet, her bare ass red, and wait to take her icy shower over.

One of these was the woman who'd looked back at us. She stood no more than three feet from me, and I watched her, suddenly realizing with horror that she wasn't much older than me, maybe eighteen or nineteen. I stared at her buttocks in fascination. Not only was she quite attractive, with a full, round bottom, but I couldn't get over the brutal welts on her butt. The stripes were wide, pink at the center and dark at the edges.

What would it be like to be stripped naked and whipped like that, I wondered. Slowly my eyes traveled upward, admiring the sleek body of the girl, when I got to her face and saw she was staring right at me. A slight grin played around her lips and she winked at me. I blushed and looked away, terribly embarrassed to be caught so blatantly.

When it came time for the girl's second shower, all four guards "assisted" in her cleaning and discipline. One held her arms above her head and fondled with the girl's breasts, cruelly pinching her nipples. Another knelt before the girl's spread legs and shoved a hand half-way up her cunt and rooted around for a while. The other two stood on either side behind the girl and took turns lashing her legs and ass with those leather belts and laughing at her little cries and gasps.

Finally the girl was done and allowed to leave. She glanced at me as she went out, and though her expression was solemn, her eyes were filled with glee. I stared after her with stunned disbelief. I didn't know what to make of anything.

My attention was commanded by the sharp voice of Miss Wu, who snapped her quirt against the wall and ordered us to strip. "Into the showers, girls!" Terrified by what we'd just witnessed, we all quickly obeyed, even poor Cheri, who was crying openly and whining about needing to pee.

Our shower was nothing like the ordered bathing of the prisoners. We were teenage girls, used to joking and fun, and in the release of tension that followed witnessing adult women being openly whipped, we were even louder and more boisterous than normal. We crowded in, all two dozen of us, shoving and fighting and screaming at the icy water. It felt good, though, and helped me wake up.

Miss Wu watched us with eagle eyes the whole time, her neutral expression not angry or pleased. She held her quirt alertly, as though she might be forced to use it, and my belly trembled inside at the thought of that thin rod lashing across my poor heinie. She never used it, however. I found out later that since we weren't official prisoners she wasn't permitted to beat us.

The showering went well until Cheri lost control and began to pee. Once she'd started, she couldn't stop, and when Suzanne noticed it, she made a big fuss and everyone backed off, leaving Cheri standing under a shower head peeing away.

Miss Wu's face was calm, but she was furious. "If you were a prisoner here you'd be flogged for that!"

Cheri was pale and weeping already, and this news made her sob.

Cheri wasn't punished, however. Madame Kiraly assisted her out of the shower and to the restroom.

"What disrespect!" muttered Miss Wu. "She ought to be made to clean the showers with her tongue."

We were given standard issue orange jumpsuits to wear for our prison visit. It was demeaning. We all looked alike, and we really felt like prisoners. We were ushered down several long corridors and finally led into a cafeteria. Here we were allowed breakfast, if it could be called that. Lukewarm coffee and equally warm milk, plain bread only faintly toasted and cold, and a bowl of what we were told was oatmeal, but had the consistency and smell of someone's vomit.

"It's very nutritious," Miss Wu informed us with a smile. "Eat every bite!"

I noticed the prisoners ate their meal with gusto and I wondered how they could stand it. Later, I saw one of the guards bend a protesting woman over the end of a table and pound on her ass with a big wooden paddle. He made her drop down her jumpsuit so she was completely naked except for the orange material around her ankles. The paddle was thin and very loud, and the whole place went silent while the woman was spanked. The whispered word that went around our table was that the woman hadn't finished her breakfast. I don't know if that was true or not, but all of us gobbled down the rest of our food in hurry, let me tell you!

After breakfast we were given ten minutes to use the facilities, and then we were off to observe the prisoners in school. Yes, the Abyss has its own school, and all prisoners are required to attend. Miss Wu spent a half hour explaining the education system to us, detailing the available courses, how the prisoners had to pay for their schooling via a work exchange program, the strict academic performance standards, and the consequences of failing to meet those standards. The latter consisted of physical discipline, of course, and we were made to watch while two young women were called in and punished for poor grades on their weekly exam.

These two women were frequent offenders and they were in for a serious dose of punishment. Both were ordered to remove their jumpsuits and stand naked before us. Then Miss Wu herself began the punishment by taking each girl over her lap for a long and thorough spanking with her hand. At first I was amused at the thought of such mild discipline, but damn, that woman could spank hard! I counted around two hundred spanks to each bottom, and by the halfway point the girls were teary-eyed and writhing in pain. Their bottoms were a brilliant hue of red, and looked a bit swollen when she finally stopped.

Then it was the paddle. One of the guards stepped forward with a big paddle like the one we'd seen used at breakfast, and she gave each girl thirty wallops. The girls were howling by the time the paddling was over.

Two more guards pulled a long table from the corner and set it up in the middle of the room. Both girls were required to lay on the table on their backs with their ankles lifted up to their faces. This pointed the girls' asses right at us, and it was astonishing because we could all see the slits of their pussies and even the dark dots of their assholes.

Miss Wu delivered a thorough whipping then, right across the girls' exposed thighs, buttocks, pussy lips, and assholes. It must have hurt like hell because the girls sure screamed. Partway through one of them accidently let go of her ankle and one leg slipped down for a few brief seconds. Miss Wu was merciless, whipping the girl harder and informing her that because of her mistake this whipping wouldn't count -- she'd be back for another one next week!

After watching the spankings, Miss Wu took us to a classroom where we sat in on a geography course. It seemed rather basic to me, but many of the adult women in the room were obviously struggling. Over the course of the next hour, three women were brought forward and paddled right in front of everyone when they missed answers to easy questions from the teacher. When we'd come in there were already two women standing at the blackboard with their hands on their heads and their jumpsuits around their ankles, their bare bottoms blister red. I was surprised that none the new women joined them, but it seemed that was a punishment for a second offense. One girl earned herself a second, much harder paddling, and then she was made to stand at the blackboard with her jumpsuit down.

Next was economics, with a similar number of women being paddled and made to stand bare-assed in front of the room. All of us Juvies were utterly bored, but there wasn't a peep of protest or complaint.

After all the brain work it was a relief to go to physical education. We were allowed to stretch and participate in the warm-up exercises, though thankfully, we didn't have the same penalties the prisoners did. One woman, a bit on the heavy side, apparently wasn't showing enough effort in her jumping jacks. After a second reprimand, she was led to the front of the whole group, stripped naked except for her tennis shoes, and ordered to lead everyone in jumping jacks. She had huge breasts and I watched them bounce with fascination and a touch of envy. The woman wasn't fascinated -- she was leaping at a jack-every-two-seconds pace as Miss Wu stood behind her saying "Faster! Faster!" and licked the backs of her legs with the riding quirt.

The nude woman wasn't allowed to dress for running. As she took off slowly down the track I realized why Miss Wu had lashed her legs instead of her bottom: everyone had to do ten laps, and the last five girls were promised a severe spanking. The heavy girl was already in last place and the race had just started.

After the laps and spankings were finished, we all went to the weight room and watched the prisoners do various exercises. Each prisoner had a workout routine with specific goals and requirements. Some girls worked on increasing muscle by lifting weights, others kept fit on rowing, skiing, or bike machines. A dozen guards patrolled the area, watching, assisting, and quickly punishing failure. Checklists were consulted, weight amounts were confirmed, and reps were counted. Failure was not pleasant.

Lunch was similar to breakfast, but consisted of lukewarm water, a soggy sandwich with a slab of a gray meat-like substance, a green salad with no dressing, and a decade-old cookie that tasted like dust. Like everyone else, we all ate every bite. Afterward, I was never so glad to be given the chance to go to the ladies room.

The afternoon was more classes: mathematics, science, and English. The stuff wasn't too difficult -- high school level, mostly -- but the pressure and atmosphere of the classrooms made every question or exam like a Jeopardy final. Prisoners were spanked at the slightest cause, and every class ended with two or three girls at the blackboard, ass crimson, jumpsuit down.

During the afternoon classes we encountered a couple interesting prisoners. One was a pretty Hispanic girl not much older than me. She wore a strange set of bulky gloves. Miss Wu calmly explained that these gloves were made out of sandpaper, with the sand on the outside, and she stopped the girl in the hallway and ordered her to show them to us and explain why she was wearing them.

The girl's cheeks went crimson but she nodded, gulped, and spat out the following tale: "A week-and-a-half ago I was caught pleasuring myself in bed at night. This is forbidden. As punishment, I have been ordered to wear these gloves for one month. I am not allowed to remove them for any reason, even to take a shower or do my toilet. Every time I touch myself I am reminded of my error."

"Excellent," said Miss Wu. "Now show them what you did to earn those gloves."

The girl's eyes went huge. She stared at Miss Wu for a moment, then slowly began to unzip her jumpsuit. With the gloves, this was awkward for her; no doubt she was frequently punished for being late or slow.

Finally nude, the girl placed her feet wide apart and began to finger her crotch. From the look on her face this wasn't exactly pleasant, but her body responded anyway. Soon she was swaying and moaning, her hands rubbing frantically. Tears flooded down her face. She finally came with a deep sigh and several violent thrusts. Miss Wu thanked her and told her she could go. I've never a seen a girl more embarrassed. She practically ran from us, still crying.

Later, in the English class, a woman was led to the front of the room for a paddling. (I'd missed what she'd done to earn the spanking, which wasn't unusual -- so many punishments were for such minor infractions I couldn't even tell what the prisoner had done wrong. And I'd thought we had it strict at Juvie!)

Anyway, when this woman walked to the front of the room I remember thinking there was something weird about her walk or her hips or something. When she took off her jumpsuit my mouth fell open like a car's glove compartment door that won't shut. The prisoner was wearing a pair of diapers!

Miss Wu, who was standing at the side of the room, stepped forward and explained to us that Ms. Ruppert had peed on herself during a whipping, and as part of her punishment she was required to wear a diaper for the next few weeks.

"She'd better be dry," warned Miss Wu as the teacher began to remove the large white diaper from the prisoner. She faced us. "If she needs changing, she's to _immediately_ go to the nearest guard and asked to be changed."

Fortunately for Ms. Ruppert she was dry. The paddling that followed was a bit harder than previous ones, but worse was what happened afterward. She had to lie on her back on the teacher's desk, legs in the air, while Miss Wu wiped down the woman's crotch with a damp tissue, sprinkled on a cloud of baby powder, and then neatly pinned the diaper back together. The woman blushed furiously as she pulled her orange jumpsuit back on and waddled back to her chair.

Five to six is normally a free period for the prisoners, but today there was a special assembly. Miss Wu told us there were about two of these a month; this one should have been held a few days earlier, but had been postponed since it was to occur so close to our visit.

What had happened was that three girls had tried to escape. It was a feeble attempt, as so many of these things are. They hadn't even made it out of the courtyard. So not only were their sentences doubled, but they were to be publicly punished. Offenses that merited public punishment were stealing, attacking a guard, fighting, possession of illegal substances (drugs or weapons), and refusal to comply with a punishment.

Today's ceremony promised to be particularly severe, Miss Wu told us gleefully, and we all trembled and sweated and fidgeted in our seats. We were in the front row of a large auditorium. It was used for plays, educational lectures, and general assemblies. The stage was just in front of us, about three feet off the ground, and twenty or thirty feet deep. Two guards rolled out a wooden contraption on wheels. It resembled a sawhorse, except the bar was padded with bits of carpet and there were black rings of cloth at the bottom of each leg.

The prisoners in the auditorium were very quiet and orderly, exactly the opposite of assemblies at my high school. It was eerie and still, and the sharp taps of the prison warden's shoes as she marched across the stage echoed throughout the room.

"Today we punish three prisoners who had the gall to attempt escape," roared the warden. "Their attempt, like all such attempts, failed miserably. Remember this, all of you. June Deveraux, Holly Cox, and Marie Escobar, come forward!"

From the wings of the stage emerged three prisoners in orange jumpsuits. Two were youngish and looked ready to piss blood they were so scared. The older one's face was expressionless.

"Strip!" ordered the warden, and immediately the three began to unzip their suits and hesitantly step out of them.

The younger girls were very pretty, though the cinnamon-skinned girl had several ugly (I thought) tattoos on her arms, back, and hip. The older one wasn't bad looking, but she stood so impassively she looked like a store mannequin. I stared at all three in horror, for their pussies had been shaved bare!

One of the younger ones, Holly, was ushered to the sawhorse. She began to cry as they bent her over it and strapped her wrists and ankles to the legs. She was obscenely spread, legs wide, everything revealed between her jutting cheeks. From where I sat, so near the stage, the girl was a mere ten or twelve feet away. I could clearly see the puffed lips of her sex and even the furry rosette of her asshole.

The warden brought forth a long slender cane and swished it through the air a few times. The crying of the girl over the sawhorse increased.

"These prisoners have been sentenced to our most severe punishment," said the warden. "They are to be caned and whipped!"

All day I had been watching punishments of various intensity: hand spankings, paddlings, whippings with leather belts. They all seemed dreadfully severe to me, never having been spanked in my life. But everything I'd seen paled with that first stroke of the cane.

The warden stepped back a bit and ran at the girl, the cane way behind her. She lashed it forward with such a snap it made my head spin. The sound of the cane striking the girl's plump buttocks was like a firecracker going off. Holly let out a shriek that brought tears to my eyes and sent shivers down my spine. Even bound to the sawhorse she writhed, her body rippling in a way that was agonizing just to watch. A horrible red stripe ran right across the middle of her ass.

The warden didn't give the girl much time to recover, but stepped back a few steps and took another run. There was another crack, another shriek, and a second red stripe. Four more times this was repeated, then she took a break, panting heavily.

Holly, the girl over the sawhorse, was screaming constantly, and straining at her bindings. The upper part of her ass was a river of red. The half-dozen stripes were so close together they were nearly one mass of swollen crimson tissue.

With a deep breath, the warden took another run and began again, this striking low, near the girl's thighs. Her scream was hoarse and painful. Five more times the warden struck, until the whole of the girl's buttocks, from crown to crease, were a raw, pulpy mess.

The warden sighed and nodded to Miss Wu, who stepped forward carrying a long strip of leather. She began to flog the back of Holly's legs. The girl wailed faintly. Her body shuddered with heavy sobs. Miss Wu laid down two dozen stripes across each round thigh, then stopped.

Poor Holly looked hideous as they released her from her bonds. She couldn't even stand up she was so weak. Marie, the other young girl, watched her with a pale, sick look on her face.

They dragged Marie to the sawhorse next, and the same whipping was repeated. Marie was a little quieter than Holly, but her ass was smaller and plumper and some of the the cane strokes overlapped, causing blood to ooze. Twice the warden was forced to pause the caning while a guard mopped the girl's ass with a wet cloth.

Miss Wu's whipping was methodical, painting red from the back of the girl's knees all the way to her cunt. She laid on every blow as hard as she could, and poor Marie screamed something awful. I could hardly bear to watch, but I couldn't take my eyes off her. It was hideous and yet fascinating.

The third prisoner was apparently the ringleader, for the warden gave her two dozen strokes of the cane: eighteen across her ass (which was almost big enough to handle that many without overlapping) and six across the back of each leg. She laid them on hard and fast, and though the woman was stoic for the first half-dozen, she was soon screaming and moaning like the others.

Miss Wu's whipping was also extended: three dozen for each leg and a final dozen across the woman's swollen ass. These last caused the skin to break and her chubby cheeks oozed as the strap cut again and again. I figured it was over at this point, but Miss Wu wasn't finished. Holding the bloody strap, she took a deep breath and swung it upward, between the woman's legs. The woman screamed hideously and her body vibrated as though she'd been plugged into an electric socket. Five more times Miss Wu struck, leaving the woman howling and spasming with pain.

Then it was finally over. The session had taken nearly an hour. After a few parting words, the warden released everyone to dinner. The three whipped prisoners were led off to the infirmary. No meal for them.

The prisoners that missed dinner were rewarded, if you ask me. Our final meal consisted of a slab of chewy shoe leather meat-stuff and something white and mushy that tasted like stale cotton, all smothered with a greasy, watery gravy, several bitter half-cooked Brussel sprouts, a bowl of runny red gelatin that had no taste at all, and a dollop of bitter-tasting chocolate pudding that reminded me of diarrhea. I ate every bite.

Then we were back on the bus and leaving the Abyss for good. That last is something I promised myself fervently -- I am never, _ever_ going back there as long as I live.

The End